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zackcrazyvalentine · 3 years

Note

can I get some more octavinelle with pregnant!mc? how they would react around mc and when the baby is born if they would cry or anything

in case I'm violating any rules or the requests are closed feel free to delete this! I'm just a big jade simp and I love my octatrio a lot too!

Requests are currently closed.... but.... I'm a sucker for domestic stuff and an Octavinelle stan, so I'm gonna do this anyways asddf

This will be the one exception [note post writing everything: YEAH this will definitely be the ONLY exception.... this is looooong]

Tried to keep everything as gender neutral as possible: when referring to pregnant partner and the babies alike

🐙 Azul Ashengrotto 💜

When you're pregnant

Proud papa!! Azul definitely cried from happiness when news of your pregnancy reached him

Was also a nervous wreck, however. He's very insecure about his abilities to be a good father and role model his children would like to follow and look up to

You know him, he's studious and booksmart. Ashengrotto will take to reading many parenting books and blogs entries to prepare himself for the arrival of his baby

Definitely had you both enroll in classes in a local hospital so you know how to act and what to expect when time for labor arrives

Health and being healthy is important to him. For you he will put up with eating all sort of balanced meals, regardless of how much he dislikes them (so you're not alone while keeping up a diet)

Always accompanies you to your gynecology appointments. Cried every time your baby's heartbeat was heard through the echo/ultrasound machine

We know how he is, grown up Azul probably has a business of his own and it takes a good amount of his time to attend. Still, he will take time to call you through the day to make sure you're fine

Probably had either of the twins look after you in days he really couldn't take time off his job. Jade being the more helpful one with chores and emotional rants (you've both probably sniffled at natural documentaries), while Floyd is perfect for food prep and hysterical laughs over fail videos

Every night, before going to bed, he spends time talking to your baby bump, places some kisses on it too

He goes sooooo soft in those moments before sleep takes you away, his love lulls you to refreshing rest

Always makes sure to give you a kiss and a rub goodbye to your bump when heading off to work

Really enjoys watching you cook. the pregnancy glow looks beautiful on you when doing mundane tasks, he thinks

Maternity pictures? He's a little reluctant, but if you really want to... *end up carrying a small copy of his favorite pic in his wallet* *sends a copy of the whole pack to his mother and grandma* *frames his favorite and puts it on his office*

When you're in labor/the baby arrives

SCREEEAAAAMS!!!!

But after a nice yell of surprise, fear and nerves, he's ready to go and put your plan of action learned in those classes ready!

He's collected for the most part, but every time you scream from the contractions, he screams too because "he can feel it"... but it's really just his nerves getting out of hand

However, once you get to the hospital, this man will burst in and yell loud and clear "SOMEONE HELP ME, MY SPOUSE IS IN LABOR!!!" because the ride was so stressful he can't hold it together anymore

Be it through natural labor or C-section, Azul will want to hold your hand and be there for you through it all.... He might get light headed at times, but again, he'll push through anything to make sure you and the baby are fine

If he somehow manages to translate his grip strength to his human form now that he's older, he will be squeezing your hand just as hard as you're squeezing

Is a mess of tears once your child's first cry echoes through the room. It feels so relieving and miraculous.... You're now parents to your first little baby!!

Can't help to smile so tenderly at his chubby little angel. Runs a finger delicately against their cheek and sheds more tears at how warm and soft and alive they are

"My precious little pearl... What a blessing you are, little one, already making us so joyous. Welcome"

Azul holds his child so gently. If you had a glow while pregnant, Azul has a glow as a new father. You swear you can see a golden halo around him whenever he's pampering and carrying your child

Reads them a bedtime story every day. They may not understand him, but Azul wants to acquaint them to his voice quickly

Since he has paperwork to do at home, there have been times the octomer left you to sleep while he attended the baby's necessities. It relaxes him, and the rocking to get them back to sleep refreshes him. How can one not be powered up after seeing a plump little munchkin sound asleep with a smile on their face?

This private moments with the baby get him emotional, has probably cried during all of them. He just feels blessed with a mountain of happiness when he sees his baby sleep so comfortably, knowing they're surrounded by love and care.

Is curious to see if his baby will manifest a merfolk form later in life, or manifest any sort of magical powers.

BONUS: It was during a family vacation to the beach during their 2nd year in primary school where your child manifested their mer-form. They were ecstatic!!

🐬 Jade Leech 💜

When you're pregnant

His expression was as collected as always, but his heart jumped into outer space when he got the news of your pregnancy. Held you close and kissed you with so much passion and love, you saw a new Jade that day.

He thinks you don't notice, but the loving gaze he shoots your way when doing the most random things around the house is so soft, your heart stops every time (think of his lab coat groovy, that smile)

Like Azul, he's very keen on keeping you healthy. Along with a proper diet, he makes sure you take your daily supplements

But he turns a blind eye when you wish to indulge a liiiittle too much on that snack you adore

With his big appetite, it doesn't come as a surprise that he willingly subjects himself to your strange cravings

Jade is another one that accompanies you to each and every doctor's appointment. Is well read of what to expect in every month mark, so he asks the most questions to clear up any doubts you may have.

His eyes filled with tears when hearing your baby's heartbeat for the first time. Held your hand tightly and kiss your forehead so many times while you were in the ultrasound room

While he's patient, sometimes your mood swings also get him in a sour mood. Thankfully, he has a way to destress with his job and terrariums. It's not long into the day when he calls to apologize for any dumb things he said, and to make sure you're doing fine

Floyd sometimes tags along to your home. It's always 50/50 on what it'll be: nice funny harmony, or utter disastrous chaos that leaves you sobbing in your husband's arms.

Perhaps the one thing Jade dislikes of your pregnancy is ho hard it is for you to find a position to sleep in because your constant tossing and turning interrupts his sleep every time

Jade speaks to your bump in whispers. Likes to lay his head on your lap and talk to the baby. He tells stories of his childhood, tells the little one how much they're loved, and sometimes indulges in singing

He also likes to play classical music for your bun

The one thing he adores? Feeling your baby kick, it always lights up his face with a bright pointy smile

If you want maternity photos, Jade is quick to convince! He acts like it embarrasses him, but he does secretly want some nice pictures to commemorate this period in your lives (plus, Mama Leech wants some to display in her home!)

When you're in labor/the baby arrives

His mind is running a mile a minute. Excuse him is he calls you "hospital" instead of your name, everything's flashing before his eyes quicker than he can register.

Would crash the car into the entrance from how fast everything's happening, but he doesn't. He does carry you to the front desk and hurriedly pants "Spouse, baby, NOW! HELP!!"

For x or y reason, Jade ends up waiting to hear the news of you and the baby. He's not in the room with you. The whole time he's left alone, he's bouncing his feet and pacing back and forth. In a short moment of clarity, he dials up Azul and notifies him of the situation, asking the octomer to pass the information to his twin and parents.

With how long births are, it shouldn't be surprising to see Mama and Papa Leech, Floyd and Azul arrive at the hospital. However, with how worried and stressed he is right now, it does catch Jade by surprise.

This moment of uncertainty, of not being by your side, is the one time where the eel lets his emotions and thoughts go unfiltered.... which may provoke his twin a little. But it's exactly these small quarrels that snap sense into him and remind him that he should focus his attention on doctors and nurses for any possible news about you. They also help refresh and keep him awake

His mother and Azul are the most helpful, calming him down and quelling his anxieties about your and the baby's safety

The moment he sees the familiar face of one of the doctors that entered the same room as you, he's up and speedwalking to them.

As soon as the merman gets permission to see you, he's already making his way to you

Finally, he can rest and let it all out. There's visible tears flowing out his eyes and sobs coming out of him while he holds your little bundle of joy. Not even a thousand kisses are enough to show his gratitude to all that you've done for him

He was already in love with your baby the moment he laid eyes on them, but once their tiny hand wrapped around his finger.... HE WAS DONE FOR, THIS BABY WOULD BE SPOILED BY PAPA FOR ALL ETERNITY. In fact, it was this moment the one that made him ugly cry

His instincts got the best of him. Jade literally snapped around to bite his father and Floyd when they got a too close to the sleeping baby. By a miracle he allowed his mother coddle them for a split second. Can you blame the poor man? He's sleep deprived and stressed, cut him some slack

Once he got some rest, Jade was embarrassed by his words and actions, but oh well... The past is in the past

He adores spending time with your baby. Every time he's in charge of bathing them, he does the cutest babytalk. He lives to see them giggle and relax in the water

Feeding time is also one of his favorites, and you also enjoy it too. Jade is just wonderful when taking care of the baby, your heart swells and a smile reaches your lips (partly because he turns so silly to make the little one eat)

He is helpful when attending the child at night, but whenever he had a stressful day at work he pleads you to go and calm them down

Talking about stressful days, feel free to send him some selfies and pictures of your baby through the day. They surely will cheer him up a little while he works.

When your child starts attempting to talk, Jade will go along with it. He nods and answers attentively to anything your baby says

BONUS: At around 5 years of age, your kid turned into their merfolk form in the middle of bath time. They cried from panic while Jade had a proud smile on his face

🦈 Floyd Leech 💜

When you're pregnant

He takes a minute to process the news. Frankly, he's nervous about this big leap, but he's sure he wants to have kids with you. His excitement may be subdued at first, but you will see him throw more smiles and tender gazes your way within the following weeks

If you notice him spacing out during the first weeks, urge him to speak out. It will take many tries to get him to open up, but one night he goes to spoon you, hand carefully caressing your tummy. "I'm unsure... isn't this... too fast?"

Understand that his doubts are more about feeling unprepared (specifically him, he has no clue how to even begin preparing), not about not wanting to have kids. "Accidents happen, Floyd, we can't control every variable in our lives. We have one another, I'm certain that together we can do this."

"Plus, we can always consult your parents." Cue a groan from him, but soon after there was a smile

Slow but steady, Leech begins researching and reading up about parenting and pregnancy. Lemme tell ya, he's not looking forward to the mood swings. Sure enough, when they arrive, he handles them very poorly. At the end of every day, however, he hugs you close while in bed and asks for forgiveness through kisses to your back

He sometimes gets bored by all the technical talk your gynecologist speaks, but follows their orders to a T. They're the professional, he barely knows the surface of what your body's going through.

After being told that was the baby's heartbeat, Floyd's wide mismatched eyes remained glued to the monitor showing the silhouette of his little bun. Chills coursed through him and his eyes watered, heart leaping with joy.... It felt so strange, but he didn't wish this magical emotion to stop

He probably buys you one of those pill organizers with pretty colors so you know and he knows if you've taken your supplements

Whenever he has a very shitty day at work, being greeted by you waddling up to him due to your feet hurting from carrying the baby once he arrives home is the best. It makes him chuckle, but he soon drops down to place a kiss to your tummy to dispel any irritation you may feel his way after his small laugh

About work... Azul kinda lets him do as he pleases, he's aware there's no changing his decision. If he wants to skip half the shift to keep an eye on you, he allows it. But Floyd must heed important calls whenever he's summoned urgently.

Will ask to bath together. Intimate, soothing, and relaxing. Bathing with you while hugging you from behind to feel the bump reassures him you're both doing a good job so far, that there's nothing to fear

It's mainly in the few seconds before bedtime that he drops onto your lap to chat with the little one. Likes to hum melodies to the bump

He has a little game where he'll poke at your belly and wait to see if the baby kicks the spot he prodded

Sometimes, Azul pops up for a visit. Very calming to have the grey haired to talk to about emotional messes. Jade sometimes calls to make sure you're both fine and have everything you need. If he visits, they're short and to the point.

Maternity photoshoot?? Nah, he'll pass.... but if you are stubborn and very insistent, he relents. You better not send them to his parents behind his back (but you totally do, of course).

When you're in labor/the baby arrives

You want chaos? Because you definitely got chaos! Don't get me wrong, Floyd is actually doing a tremendously amazing job carrying your bag and yourself to the car. He's actually driving superb while reminding you to take repeat the breathing exercises you were taught. It's just...... the other people's slow pace and stupidity the ones making him yell profanities

Absolutely throws his signature crazed look at the first nurse he finds when asking, no, demanding help

That crazed look was reason enough to keep him out of the room you'd be in, his consequent aggressiveness after given the news is an even grater reason. If you can muster it, tell him you will be okay and to trust the doctors.

Sits on the closest waiting space to your room. Probably goes up to a bending machine and punches it a couple times to release some of the tension (he got a free snack, too)

Now it's when the nervousness settles in. He's so afraid at having you and his child away from him, he's worried about everything. May shed a couple tears of frustration, fear, and stress. His instincts tell him to protect you even if he knows there's nothing to protect you from, you're in a hospital for goodness sake!

That's when he calls Jade for comfort, and soon after dials his mother. It's her voice the one that helps him break through the confusing fog in his mind to go back and sit as close to your room as he can

Probably ends up stress eating everything in that vending machine he punched as he waits for any news about you and the baby He's munching on the last bit of a candy bar when a new one crosses his field of vision. It's Jade, with a bag full of treats, and some much needed water. Azul's beside his twin

It feels strange, but Floyd feels very vulnerable and needs the familiarity both of them bring. He lets his head fall on Jade's shoulder, which the twin takes as cue to hug him by placing an arm around his shoulders. Azul kneels in front of him and asks "How are you feeling, Floyd?"

"Scared.... and alert. Like I need to protect them, but... I know they're safe." He probably ends up crying a little more right then. After being calmed down by Azul, he probably sleeps for 10 minutes

Wakes up to find his mother replacing Jade by his side, and his dad is also with them now. Definitely feels much better after some shut eye and after seeing he's now surrounded by familiar faces

When he hears his name be called out by the doctor, he's immediately shooting up and throwing questions at the doc. Thankfully, the professional firmly states everything went swimmingly and he can now see you.

Will you look at that? TWO little babies are waiting to meet him!

You're holding one, and the second cutie is placed in his arms and.... There come the waterworks again It was such a natural reaction, he had no time to try and suppress it. Not like he would've wanted to, but the way you "aww"ed at him made him feel a little embarrassed

The twin in his arms reached out and tugged his black strip of hair after it tickled their face, Floyd couldn't help giggle

He can't lie, his arms were shaking the whole time he held the little one. He was scared of hurting them...or dropping them

He wonders how everyone missed the elusive second baby, but he's so happy!! He has two cute kids!! Oh, you're such a wonderful and strong parent! You carried their weight combined and powered through the pregnancy just like that!

He really wants to climb into your bed and hold you so close, but he knows you need rest. Settles for peppered kisses all over your face while uttering "I love you, thank you" in between

While his instincts do tell him to chase away the "dangerous" males away from his newborn kids, Floyd does let his father get close and look at the babies along with his mom. Jade and Azul are a different story, however, he growled at them.

Like Jade, Floyd loves spending time with his twins! His top fav is bathing the twins because he's always eager to see if they will turn into merfolk (spoilers: they do!! And quite early! A few months after their 1st birthday!)

Another thing he loves doing is laying a blanket on the floor and watching his cuties play with their toys and giggle at each other

He tried their baby food once and decided to make homemade baby food from then on. He says he wants his little ones to taste only good things since those prepackaged stuff taste terrible. Just keep an eye on his spice use.

Night necessities are your task though, he does not take kindly to being interrupted in his sleep

He likes reenacting baby photos of him and Jade with his babies

Once his kids get the hang of their mer-form, most of your vacations will be under the sea~

#zask #zack writes #soul cuddle #domestic #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #leech twins #octavinelle #octavinelle x reader #tw // pregnancy #cw // pregnancy #gn reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader

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hertzwritings · 2 years

Text

Untangled Wires

A/N: The lovely @thorinoakenshieldfan asked for a continuation of Crossed Wires, and how could I say no? Maybe this will be a three-parter mini, if you guys feel for it. ;)

Feedback feeds the soul, my darlings and requests are always open!

MASTERLIST

HENRY CAVILL + CHARACTERS MASTERLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairing: Henry Cavill x reader

Warnings: Language, fluff

Untangled Wires

You hadn’t heard from Henry since the fateful day, where you almost broke your ankle. Not that you really expected it, because he was, well, him and a part of you was pretty sure that he only asked for your number because he was a polite man.

It had bothered you more than you’d liked it to, but there was nothing you could do, other than accept it and try to move on, which included blocking literally everything related to comic con and Henry himself on social media.

It hadn’t taken long before a video of your fall had landed on Twitter, and his heroic rescue of you, which meant a plethora of comments, tweets and people trying to dissect whatever happened behind the closed door, he had carried you through.

It also meant that you were being blasted, which you did not like at all.

She probably fell on purpose. Jesus, he must’ve needed a chiropractor after carrying that whale. Oh my god, she looks a little like… And so forth. It was unnecessarily rude and as much as you prided yourself on being comfortable being you, this was just too much of the internet.

And now it had been two weeks or silence from him, so you had concluded that it probably wasn’t as big of a deal to him.

And so it shouldn’t be to you.

You rummaged through your closet, trying to find that one goddamn cardigan that somehow always got lost, when the doorbell rang - you frowned and let the several shirts in your hands fall to the floor, as you walked to the front door and opened it.

You were met with the sight of the biggest bouquet of flowers, you’d ever seen in real life, in front of you. A delivery man stood behind them, barely able to grasp the edges of the vase, and his head poked out from the side.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” He asked. You nodded. “Great. Can I just get you to…” He handed you the flowers and you took a few steps back as the heaviness of the flowers truly hit you. “I need you to sign.” he said tiredly and you grunted as you managed to wrangle the bouquet inside and onto your kitchen table. It looked almost comical as it stood in between take out boxes and scattered papers.

You signed for the flowers and told him goodbye, before turning to the giant vase and frowning.

You had never gotten flowers like this before.

Full of lilies, tulips, baby’s breath and dahlias, it filled the space up with the scent of soft flowers, and you admired it - delicate petals and the soft red, whites, pinks and yellows made your kitchen brighter.

You searched for a card or anything, that made it clear who sent them, and finally found a small, white, handwritten note in the middle of the bouquet - a perfect, neat, slanting font stood clear against the white of the paper.

Hope your ankle is doing better. Xx Henry

Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to figure out how the hell he had gotten your address, because you were pretty sure you hadn’t told him, but as you were about to panic over the fact that the Henry Cavill might be a crazy stalker, your phone rang. Your boss.

“Hey, boss.” You answered. “Did you get them yet?” Her voice was shrill and you grimaced as the speakers of your phone almost gave out. “Get what?”

“The flowers, for heaven’s sake!” you sat down with wide eyes. “Did you give him my address?” You asked, slightly confused.

“Yes! He called for you, but I told him you were working from home, and he asked where home was and I told him. I mean, we all saw the video, so I thought it might be okay.” You sighed and rubbed your eyes. “Yeah, well, next time just check before handing a stranger my address.” You said - you had a hard time being mad about it, but you would have been terrified if it had been anyone else but Henry. She was about to say something, but your phone beeped with the familiar sound of someone else calling. You checked quickly. You didn’t know the number.

“I’m going to have to call you back.” You said. “Sure thing. Remember the deadline for the photos…” “Gotta go!” You hung up and answered the second caller.

“Am I interrupting?” His deep, soft voice sounded from the speakers and your face flushed instantly. You stuttered a bit, trying to gather yourself and give him somewhat of a decent, human answer. “I just realised how god awful it must look to send you flowers, when I theoretically haven’t gotten your address.” He said. You grinned. “Yeah, a little. Uhm…” “I’m sorry.” You shook your head, but remembered in the same second that he couldn’t actually see you. “Yeah, no, it’s fine. They’re beautiful. I would’ve probably been more worried if there wasn’t a note attached.” You said with a smile. He chuckled and your breath hitched at the sound. “I’m also really sorry I haven’t had a chance to call before now, I must really seem like a terrible asshole slash stalker at this point.” He fretted. “Uh, no, actually, I thought I either had a fever dream and/or you might’ve just been polite, asking for my number.” you admitted. It was quiet for a second, before his voice rang out again.

“I would never ask, if I didn’t want to get to know you.” He finally stated and you grinned, your cheeks hotter than the sun.

“Cool.” You were quiet on both ends - you admired the flowers for a bit, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“They’re really beautiful. The flowers, I mean.” You said. “I remember you mentioning lilies as some of your favourites.” He admitted softly. You were surprised that he had even remembered a throw away comment you had made seconds before leaving his private room. “I can’t believe you remembered that.” You said with a smile. “I remember pretty much everything you told me.” He replied and you felt your heart stutter slightly.

“Erhm, so, I’m currently filming which means I can’t actually ask you out for the date, I wanted to, but I was wondering if you’d maybe like to FaceTime every once in a while, until I’m done filming?” His voice was full of hesitation, as if he was concerned you’d say no. As if.

“You want to look at my ugly mug until you get back home?” You asked, laughing, and laid down on your couch. He chuckled. “I don’t think it’s ugly.” “That’s only because you haven’t seen me in the mornings.” You retorted and he laughed fully this time. “I’ll be the judge of that.” He said. “But, er, would you like to?” He asked again, and you could’ve slapped yourself. Of course, you forgot to fucking answer. “Oh my god, I'm an idiot.” You groaned. “Yes, I’d like that. If you’re okay with the fact that I look like a rat in a trash can at most times.” He chuckled and the familiar sound of a FaceTime call rang in your ear. “I think I’ll live.”

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

Four weeks of pretty much video chats every single day, since the first call from him. You had grown to really anticipate the calls, seeing his face light up in a smile whenever he saw you. Sometimes you’d talk about your days, or share details of your life to get to know one another, sometimes he’d read out loud for you in his breaks. He had told you exactly what Warhammer was, and you’d admitted to him - after he had started describing and explaining World of Warcraft - that you had actually played for several years, and he wouldn’t let up until you’d agreed to a date where you’d play together.

You had once fallen asleep in the wee hours of the morning as he read The Witcher out loud to you, and he had stayed on the phone all through the night, sleeping face to face with you.

“Filming is almost done, you know.” He said as he propped his phone up, so he could lean back and get his makeup done. You grinned. “Has it been good?” You asked, filling your cup of coffee and sitting down in front of your phone, that was currently stacked precariously on top of a wobbly stack of books. He smiled softly.

“Yeah, really good. I can’t wait to get home, though.” His voice was smooth, but you didn’t miss the way his lips twitched into a smirk for a second, and you bit your lip as your cheeks grew hot. “You gotta stop doing that, darling.” He said with a grin. “Do what?” you hid your face behind the coffeecup as you took a sip.

“Blush like that. It makes it impossible not to fall for you.” He said brazenly and you blanched, not really knowing what the hell to do with your own body. He didn’t say that, you must’ve misheard him. No way. “Uh, can’t really help a biological reaction to your damn compliments and face.” You exclaimed with a wink. “Ah, so you do like my face?” He said, winking at you. You rolled your eyes at him. “Who wouldn’t?” You heard a slight snicker from the left side of the screen, and Henry’s face turned to whoever stood there, with a smile. “I’m sorry, you guys are just such a cute couple.” A female voice said and you felt butterflies in your stomach - you weren’t actually dating, but still. Henry beamed, the point of his fangs flashing against his bottom lip. “She’s the one who makes me cute, trust me.” He said, pointing at the screen. A blonde woman with the nicest smile, you’d ever seen, peeked in from the side. You shook your head. “He’s such a liar, it’s only cute because he’s british. It makes everything cuter.” You said with a shrug. The woman chuckled and waved before returning to work on Henry’s face. He raised an eyebrow at you. “Is that so?” You nodded seriously. “Scientifically proven, you know.” You stated confidently. He guffawed, his eyes glinting. “Sure it is.” he grabbed the phone and thanked the woman before leaving the chair, and walking into the sunlight, smiling brightly at you.

“I’ll talk to you tonight, love. Gotta go film myself punching some people.” He said with a smile, and you tried not to have your heart jump out of your chest at his casual love.

“Okay. talk to you soon. Please don’t break your face.” You remarked. He winked at you.

“For you, I’ll try.”

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

Time went by incredibly fast and slow at the same time, and evening fell finally, covering your apartment in a soft lull. Your phone laid on the table, ready for you to pick it up the second it rang, but the ringing never came.

His name didn’t pop up on the screen.

You felt as if your stomach had been filled with lead and you bit the inside of your cheek - half worried that something happened to him, half scared he’d just gotten tired of you finally.

You groaned and forced your eyes from the small, stupid screen and paced the apartment, finally deciding on filling a glass of wine and sitting down, turning on your TV to something you’d probably forget to watch.

You hadn’t expected the doorbell to ring, and you knew you weren’t expecting people or a delivery, and you stood, confused, for a brief second before slowly making your way to the door and opened it.

Your face broke into a smile so wide, it hurt your cheeks as you saw the vision of a man in front of you, dressed in a green button down and a pair of black jeans, a slanted smile on his lips, eyes full of mirth and hands full of flowers. Lilies.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, taking the flowers from his hands before he wrapped his arms around you in a tender hug. He smelled like pinewood and rosemary. He pulled away slightly, his arms still around you and smiled brightly.

“I thought it was high time for that date, love.”

PART THREE

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TAGLIST:

@acaceta @summersong69 @luclitltlepond @keiva1000

@a-skov @thatonechickhere @summersong69 @themanfromu

@spookyboogyuniverse @one-sweet-gubler @timetraveller4

@angelmather1 @kebabgirl67 @yourlocalhoney

@girl-with-an-orange-cat

#henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #the witcher #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x y/n fanfic #henry cavill x yn #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x you fluff

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jungkxook · 3 years

Text

—out of the blue. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: youtuber/gamer!jungkook + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 5,204

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: catching your boyfriend bleaching and dyeing his hair for a livestream is definitely not what you expected — but it certainly has its perks.

⟶ warnings: established relationship, some attempt at humour, .2 seconds of sort of sub jungkook (you just like seeing him on his knees), you call jungkook a good boy, shower sex, hair pulling, oral sex, face riding, standing sex, breast play, cum eating, doggy style, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: because blue haired jungkook has me feeling all sorts of things. also dedicating this to the lovely ryen @kithtaehyung because blue haired jungkook is getting her too and i hope this helps!! and thank you to the wonderful @gamerkooks and @stanrandomthings for always giving me inspiration for gamer jungkook <3

“What the hell are you doing?”

Jungkook has less than a second to react when he hears you bursting through the door of his bedroom, a guilty expression plastered on his face as if you’ve caught him in the midst of a much worse act than what he’s already currently doing ━ but the flustered scowl deepening your countenance is enough for him to certainly feel that way, because how else is he supposed to casually explain why he’s currently sitting shirtless in front of a camera?

Admittedly, the sight is odd enough, and there’s a split moment where your incredulous look is enough to make him feel as if he’s wronged you, and your six month long relationship with him, entirely before he remembers that he didn’t actually do anything wrong like cheat on you, but is actually just trying to dye his hair.

He’s sat in his gaming chair, camera and lights set up around him, and the monitor of his desktop all recording his face to the hundreds of thousands of viewers currently watching his livestream. He had told you well in advance about his aim to do a twenty-four hour live broadcast for his subscribers to both raise money for a donation and to countdown to his next subscriber milestone with the help of his friends ━ and had even asked you to help him plan the event, discussing it animatedly with you for the past month on various occasions ━ but mainly just because Jungkook is crazy enough to sit through a twenty-four hour stream and call it fun.

You had known most of how the entirety of the day would go. Starting from noon the previous day to now, almost an hour before the stream ends, thus far he’s done various gameplays from Minecraft to Overwatch to Among Us simultaneously with his friends who had offered to marathon with him the twenty-four hour event; had a period of time in which Jimin and Taehyung were over and cramped in his room to answer questions and talk to viewers but mostly just to create absolute chaos. You had been there for most of it, though you’re still trying to figure out if it’s a blessing or a curse that you were suckered into paying rent for your three bedroom apartment by Taehyung more than a year ago, and subsequently falling madly in love with Jungkook and forcing you to aid in his antics. You’ve been in a handful of his videos before, appearing in Twitch and YouTube streams, and in the background of vlogs in his channel and the channels belonging to the other boys; and, on that day for Jungkook’s twenty-four hour event, you had joined him at the start before being dragged away for work and then tried to pull an all-nighter with him until you crashed on the couch in the living room, and checking in on him occasionally to give him food and water and to just generally make sure your boyfriend isn’t dead.

Now, with the remaining final hour dwindling down, you had been in your room trying to finish last minute essay writing for school, with your phone propped up on your desk and Jungkook’s livestream playing as background noise to your studying. One minute, he had been playing a round of Among Us, and the next, when you had glanced up, he had the bottle in hand and the detrimental blue dye coating his hair in slick globs. It wouldn’t have been so shocking, had you not seen Jungkook an hour ago when he had his natural dark hair still, and now he had somehow managed to sneak in bleaching his hair in the time you had left him. Maybe it was your fault for not catching it sooner, if only because you had sheepishly taken a small nap amidst your studying only to wake up to a nightmare.

Which is where that leaves you currently, dishevelled demeanour standing at the threshold of his door after chasing over to his room, watching as Taehyung helps Jungkook sufficiently ruin his beautiful hair which you love so much.

“Uh… Dyeing my hair?” Jungkook finally answers, dumbfounded. He’s fortunate he had pulled off his shirt to avoid getting hair dye on it, an old towel now draped around his shoulders to catch any excess mess. He adds brightly, “We asked for suggestions on how to end the stream and someone said I should dye my hair, so Tae got the stuff.”

“You bleached your own hair?” You retort, exasperated. “When the hell did all this happen? I’ve been next door to you the whole time! What if your hair falls out? You should’ve gotten a professional to do it, not Tae━”

Taehyung looks inexplicably offended by your slandering remarks on his (lack of) hair styling skills, retorting with, “Yo, what the━?”

Jungkook blinks, as if just being made aware of what he’s actually doing.

“My hair’s gonna fall out?” he gaps. “Guys, what the hell? Why’d no one tell me?”

He looks from you to Taehyung then over at the comments on his livestream which are currently flooding with the sole topic of you. His eyes snag the first few that appear to him in the frenzied influx of words:

uh oh jungkook’s sleeping on the floor tonight

oh shit run bro

f in the chat for jk’s hair

get him y/n!!!!

“Dude, she’s just being dramatic,” Taehyung waves you off. He ducks out of the way when you reach out to Jungkook’s bed for a pillow and chuck it at the older boy’s head.

“And when he’s bald, then what━”

“No!” A helpless Jungkook exclaims suddenly. He gestures wildly to the stream, “Don’t give them ideas. The edits are gonna start pouring in.”

“Jeon, look, it’s too late to go back now,” Taehyung says. “You’ve got half your head covered in dye and three minutes to go with the stream. How bad can it be?”

A groveling sigh eclipses your lips as you push yourself forward. “Then at least let me help before you ruin it completely.”

Jungkook’s fortunate, to say the least, though he’s left wondering if you’re truly upset with him.

He finishes the countdown to the end of his twenty-four hour stream with you and Taehyung putting the last remaining globs of dye on his hair, a heartfelt goodbye to his viewers who marathoned the stream with him, and a promise to update them on the status of his hair when he washes the dye out.

And, just as soon as he’s shut his camera off, the mundane world returns to him.

It’s no longer millions of anonymous and faceless viewers watching him from the other side of their screens in the tiny bubble that is his room, but just you and Taehyung and the older boy’s frisky little Pomeranian dog and the threat of a wallowing regret as Jungkook thinks to himself, what the hell did he truly just do to his hair?

At some point, Taehyung retreats to his girlfriend’s house taking Yeontan with him, leaving you alone with Jungkook and he basks in the sudden cozy quiet after twenty-four hours of madness as the adrenaline rush begins to fade and mellow out. Back aching, joints cracking and popping as he stretches and moves, and eyes burning in the similar way they do from having stared at a screen for too long, but tenfold, he craves nothing more than to find your sweet and comforting touch to end such a long day.

He finds you in the living room already scrolling through your phone and your Twitter feed to read and marvel at all the comments and memes made by his viewers during his stream and his heart threatens to burst through his chest because you’ve always been so supportive of him and his fans, and they’ve always adored you and your endless interactions with them. So, surely, you can’t be mad at him for bleaching and dyeing his hair. Right?

As his arms come to wrap around you from behind, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck, he hears you bemoan, “You look like a Smurf came on your head.”

Wrong.

Well, not entirely, he guesses. You do lean into his chest, practically melting against him. A sluggish grin tugs at his lips and, instead, he chooses to ask, “Shower with me?”

“Aren’t you tired, Koo?”

“Baby,” he deadpans, and your heart flutters just a little bit, “by this point, I’m running solely on Red Bull and coffee that I’m positive I could fight the gods with my bare hands and win. In fact, I’ve had so much caffeine that I’m fairly certain I’ve ascended to the astral plane. Besides, I need to wash this dye out, and I could use some help. Sleep can wait.”

“Help,” You snort. “You’re such a liar. I already know what you want.”

“To spend time with my beautiful girlfriend? You’re right.”

“I’m not sucking your dick.”

He pulls his head back to look at you. Though he tries to look offended, there’s the tiniest of smirks on his face. “Wasn’t gonna ask you!”

You turn to properly face him in his arms and shoot him a dubious glance. He leans down to press a chilling kiss to your jaw, then nudges his nose against you in the same spot so that you’ll move your head. You do so, despite your prior scolding, and let him kiss the underside of your jaw down to your neck.

“Okay, fine,” You huff finally.

You relent, miraculously, but Jungkook had already guessed you would the moment he had found you in the living room and he couldn’t be happier.

He cherishes the moments alone with you, has come to know them well as he falls into a comfortable routine with you away from prying eyes over the last few months. Because sometimes, as he comes to learn, it’s hard to establish a relationship when his job requires him to be in the spotlight often. What is authentic and what is simply fabricated for views is difficult to discern, and yet you’re patient with him. Not everything to him is money and views and numbers, or what his next big plan is, or how you could potentially help him in some way (despite knowing that any video featuring you seems to skyrocket his views and land his videos on the trending page of YouTube more often than not because he knows everyone loves you more than him). You know when he’s his online persona and when he’s simply just Jungkook, and while there’s hardly any difference between the two, his online personality surely has to maintain a level of privacy and happiness that may not always be true.

At least with you, he can just be himself. He can finally be at ease.

Showering together is just one of the many acts of normalcy he cherishes with you. So, he turns on the shower and lets the bathroom get all warm and balmy as you undress. He’s the first one inside, hissing in delight as he lets the water run over his sore muscles, washing out the dye in his hair firstly so as not to get it on you and fortunately not making too much of a mess of blue dye in the tub. You’ve joined him in an instant when he’s nearly done, squeezing into the space in front of him as you shut the glass door behind you, the pane already beginning to fog and slick with droplets of condensation. He pulls you into him once more, nestling his chin on your shoulder as his hands come to wrap around you. They slide across your front, all wet and soapy, briefly gliding across your breasts, palms brushing against your nipples before traveling down to your navel.

“Congrats, baby,” You coo gently. “Twenty-four hours.”

He murmurs into your hair, “Missed you loads though.”

You turn to look at him finally, and it’s hard not to stare. Your eyes land firstly on his abdomen and the toned muscles there, trailing up to his arm and the pretty tattoos that decorate every inch of his skin, to his soft pink lips and his big eyes. Then, there’s the matter of his hair. The water has done most of the work in washing out the dye from his hair, now falling across his forehead and into his eyes and cheekbones, and it’s only then that you fully register the dye has worked as you struggle to find any remnants of his once-ebony-then-blonde locks. The blue hair is an obvious stark contrast to his natural hair and, you think, it is pretty, accentuating his radiant skin and making his eyes pop.

“I didn’t think you were actually serious all those times you said you wanted to change your hair.” Your lips are pursed as you survey him now, your fingers twirling a strand of his tresses around and around as you inspect it.

He smiles, catching your hand and pressing a quick peck to your knuckles. “Neither did I,” he admits sheepishly. “It sort of just happened.”

You pout. “I’m gonna miss your natural hair.”

“Do you really hate it blue?”

“I don’t hate it. Was more scared you’d ruin your pretty hair and make it all fall out.”

At this, Jungkook flashes you a cheeky smile. He holds his head a little higher. “So you still think my hair is pretty?”

“I think you’re a dork,” You clarify. “And, aside from the fact you almost gave me a heart attack, I’d say the blue is so pretty. Beyond pretty. Kinda hot, if I’m being honest.”

Because you’re not really mad, but it’s fun just to tease Jungkook and see his reactions. At the very least, he can sense this, as it’s apparent with the way his smile stretches even wider on his face.

“Hot, huh?”

“Mhm. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

He feigns a look of mock hurt. “Oh no. You must be really mad. Want me to make it up to you?”

“How are you gonna do that?”

“Well, what do you want from me?”

You take a moment to think it over, but the answer is already obvious enough. It’s one that even he knows, and one that has won you over the moment Jungkook was freed from his stream. You hum aloud, “You, on your knees, head between my legs, like a good boy. Think I can get a better viewpoint of your hair from down there anyway before I judge it.”

“Like a good boy?” A dark smirk tugs at his face. “So now who’s the needy one?”

He lowers his head so that he’s leaving a trail of sloppy wet kisses down your neck to your collarbones. As you let yourself get carried away for a moment, you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him backwards until you’re pressed up against the glass door. He ducks even lower, kissing just above your left breast and then catching your nipple between his teeth. You swallow thickly, rubbing your thighs together, reminding yourself to respond to him.

“It’s not my fault when you were busy for the past day,” You pout. “And the blue hair really is sexy.”

“Aha!” he straightens up in front of you suddenly, a crooked smug smile on his face. “So I’m not just hot. I’m sexy.”

“You’re literally always sexy. And beautiful too. It’s almost unfair.”

“That’s even better.”

You tug your fingers at his damp locks. When you speak, your voice is a mix between urgency and a whine. “Jungkook. I could’ve already gotten off with my hand at this point.”

“Ouch, feisty!” He pokes his fingers at your sides. Then, nipping a little more firmly on the soft skin of your breast, murmurs huskily, “Alright, alright. But only if you call me a good boy again.”

Part of him is taunting you, but there’s a small sliver of intrigue that makes the thought in his head and the pretty words on your tongue excite him to no end.

Still, you choose to entertain him, maybe a little drowsily and entirely consumed by him, “I will if you let me ride your face.”

A rumble of a chuckle resonates from him. You find him on his knees in the next moment, wedging himself between your thighs. He nudges one of your legs and you follow the wordless command, hitching one thigh over his shoulder as you settle back against the glass door of the shower. He kisses at your hips as he dips his head lower and lower to where you want him, before swiping his tongue at your cunt, tasting all of you at once.

“Mmm, Koo━” A soft whimper sounds from you, making his head swim.

He wastes no time in lapping at your folds, tongue delving into you deeper and deeper as he cranes his neck. The wetness that pools between your legs and on the tip of his tongue is a sticky mess that he basks in just a little longer.

“Fuck,” he groans into your pussy, “you taste so fucking good. Missed this so much.”

His hands are big as they come to hold you close, cradling your ass, your thighs, your hips, anything to pull you into him while simultaneously pushing your thighs further apart.

You manage to find your voice and quip weakly, “Missed me or having your head between my legs?”

“You, definitely,” he murmurs. He busies himself by reaching out with his thumb to press circles against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, hips rutting into his face. “All of you.”

“Jungkook━ Fuck━”

He burrows further into you, humming in response. His nose brushes against your clit, the muscle of his tongue a pleasant wet that makes you warm all over. You give another experimental swivel of your hips, grinding against his tongue just right. He pinches at your hips as if to probe you onward, and then you do it again, and again, desperately rocking your hips back and forth against him. Your fingers reach out to grab a fistful of his hair, clutching it so tightly he hisses. But you’re right. The blue locks look dazzling between your legs, being pulled by your hands as you push him further into you.

His eyes meet yours from below your waist, hooded and idle, enjoying the view as you squirm and writhe above him, shamelessly riding his face. Grinding against his chin, nose, and tongue, the slick wetness you leave behind glistens on his skin.

“Ah, Koo━” You cry out. “Fuck, I’m gonna━!”

Your orgasm hits you violently, sending you keeling. Your hips continue with reckless abandon, and Jungkook presses his finger against your clit a little harder, a little faster. The abrupt gushing warmth between your thighs sends your mind spinning, as the steam from the shower and your panting breaths begin to fog the bathroom. When your hips begin to slow, Jungkook laps at the rest of your leaking core before pulling away with a grin brandishing his shimmering face. He lets you pull him up eagerly, clumsy hands fumbling to hold either side of his face as you tug at him.

“God, you’re so hot, babe,” he sighs wistfully, smothering your lips with his for an all too chaste kiss, before leaning in once more to nibble at your lower lip.

“Wanna feel you, Koo,” You prompt urgently. “Want you in me.”

Jungkook hastens to comply, his hands falling to your waist. “Go on, then. Turn around for me.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You spin so that you’re facing the glass sliding door, your back to him. You watch him over your shoulder, momentarily admiring his well built stature, the tattoos that ink his body, and the water that shimmers on his skin. He has to push his wet hair up and away when it falls across his forehead and then he reaches down to grasp at his length, grip tight around his shaft so that he can pump himself sluggishly a few short times. It’s almost painful to watch him jerk himself off in front of you, the tip a burning red and glistening. He catches you staring and decides to catch you off guard when he grabs a hold of your hips with one hand. He yanks you towards him, your ass pressed firmly against his hips, making you jump from the startle, and grins when you look back at him.

Then, ever so slowly, he runs the length of his cock along your folds. Before you can brace yourself for the overwhelming rush of pleasure, he’s sliding his cock past your folds, burrowing into you deep. He curses behind you, his other hand flying out to steady himself by digging into your hip.

“Fffuck. Shit.” He dips his head so that his cheek is resting against your shoulder and sputters for air. “Jesus, fuck━ Been dying to feel you all day.”

He fits so snugly in you, so perfectly, just like always and you take him so well, coaxed by your own arousal. He ruts his hips forward into yours and you nearly fall forward before catching yourself by pressing your palms to the glass. Then, he’s grinding against you, small and precise thrusts that roll into your hips.

“Mmm, Jungkook,” you choke out. “You feel so━ So good.”

“Ah, shit,” he hisses. “Wanna wreck you so bad.”

He angles his chest a little more, pummels his dick into you in such a way that he’s hitting a different spot in you. His eyes stay fixated on the soft, round flesh of your ass and the way his cock slips so easily into you, brows screwed in concentration, jaw clenched. The slight bounce of your ass each time he rolls his hips firmly against you, the way you ricochet forward each time in tandem with his moves. You bow your head, pressing your temple against the glass door now tinted with condensation, only marked up by the imprints of your fingers grasping at anything. It’s almost sweltering hot in the shower now but you both pay no mind to it. He fucks into you with such languid, steady strides, cock beginning to throb and twitch in anticipation. You feel so wet, such a pitiless mess between your thighs already that it makes him growl.

“H-Harder,” You mewl. “Oh, Koo━”

He almost slips behind you in his eagerness to obey, awakening something animalistic in him, a yearning to just release all the tension in his core. This time, he adapts a measured pace, forceful thrusts that have you crying out in delight each time. One hand reaches up to grip at your shoulder to steady himself while his other slithers around your front to grasp at your breasts, all wet and supple, pinching at your nipples.

“So good,” he moans, pressing sloppy kisses just below your ear. His breath is hot as he pants behind you, sending tingles down your spine. “Fuck━”

His voice is cut off by a whine, hips bucking forward in an unsolicited manner as he feels his high drawing near. You lean your head onto his shoulder, stretching your arm out so that you can tug desperately at his hair. It’s a silent, simple command, but it’s one that he immediately understands even without you speaking.

“Wanna feel you━” You whimper. “Wanna see you.”

Jungkook nearly slips as he fumbles to pull out of you, hissing at the loss of warmth and friction. As soon as you’ve turned to face him, he wastes no time in closing the distance between you. He pushes his leaking cock past your folds once more and continues at the same pace as if he had never even stopped to begin with.

“Fuck,” he whines. “Not gonna last━”

You wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him even closer to you, as he presses you against the glass. He hitches one of your thighs around his waist, spreading your legs just wide enough to hit a certain spot that has both of you crying out. You’re clinging so tightly to him, fingers digging harshly into his skin in an attempt to alleviate the building pressure you feel. He knows you’ve almost reached your end when you resort to a gasping, moaning mess, writhing beneath his broad stature.

“Close, baby?” he hums.

You open your mouth to respond but can only muster a whimper. His pace treads over to heedlessly frantic, the sound of skin against skin and the lewd wetness filling the shower. Despite his hips pounding into yours so harshly, his fingers flutter so delicately under your chin, grasping it and moving your head just enough so that you’re facing him.

“Lemme see you,” he grunts. “Wanna watch you when you cum all over my cock. Always so pretty.”

“I━ I’m━ Fuck, Koo━”

But you can’t finish your thought.

You keep your gaze fixated on Jungkook’s, however exhausted and weary it may be. Your lashes flutter, brows knit together, and you suck your lower lip between your teeth, biting so hard Jungkook’s certain you’ll bruise it. Another few hard thrusts and then you’re reaching your high, overcome by such an intense burning that you can’t help but look away out of instinct. You cry his name, face contorting in pure pleasure, and chest arching to meet his. You’re clenching so tightly around him has him sputtering for air, nearly collapsing entirely against you. You’re near dripping around his cock which only means he almost slips from you with each draw of his hips that he makes. It’s why he sloppily rocks his hips into yours, desperate to reach his own high as well.

When you return to your senses, blinking away your blurry vision, you can make out Jungkook cooing into your ear, “That’s it, baby. Doing so well.”

You meet his gaze once more, only this time you’re perhaps even more tired. Hooded eyes watch him, silently probing him to his climax. He comes tumbling towards it, a few more short thrusts of his hips and, finally, he’s there. He slams his hips up into yours one final time, crying out, and then he’s releasing into you in an overwhelming abrupt gush. Only he can’t quite enjoy it because, out of genuine accident and driven by impatience to just get off, the last jerk of his hips hits you a little too hard.

It’s what causes you to slip backward and he, so lost in his own reverie, hardly has a proper grip on you or where he’s standing. When you lose your footing beneath you, slipping on the wet porcelain of the tub, and comes crashing down, he’s brought along with you. “Oh, fuck━!”

The both of you yelp from the surprise, your hands flailing out to brace yourself for the fall.

Fortunately, you land on him when you reach the bottom of the tub, courtesy of him grabbing onto you last second so that he can soften the blow upon impact.

Unfortunately, the breath is knocked out of him from the startle and from the sudden added weight of you on top of him with no warning.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he groans.

“In hindsight,” You wince as you shift your weight above him, “maybe having sex in the shower again wasn’t the greatest idea. Remember last time when we knocked the shower curtain down and I had to get stitches on my elbow? It’s why we got the glass door installed, and then we had to lie to Tae about it.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” He tilts his head back, rubbing a hand over his face. Then, he flashes you an all too charming smirk. “Was kinda worth it though.”

You giggle, sounding so sweet and angelic, even despite the way his cum still leaks from you. Somewhere in the fall, his dick had slipped from you and now lays softening on his stomach which, really, is probably the worst part of the accident to him. He already misses the warmth of you wrapped around him, your mingling cum a dirty mess around him. You prop yourself up on his chest with your palms, but before you can even think to respond, you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

A small mass of fur in the shape of little Yeontan has just poked his head through the crack in the door, oblivious to you and Jungkook’s compromising position. And then, shortly following behind him, is his equally oblivious owner who must have forgotten something in the apartment to bring him back so suddenly.

“Tannie, get back here━ We gotta go━ Oh, Jesus, what the fuck?” Taehyung appears at the door for a millisecond before noticing the situation he’s just stumbled upon. Thankfully, he acts fast, and clamps a hand over his tainted eyes, clumsily scooping up Yeontan in his other hand. “Can you guys please stop fucking all over this damn apartment? My son’s eyes are too pure for this!”

And then he’s retreating, but not before bumping blindly into the doorframe, grumbling along the way. It’s silent for a moment as you and Jungkook gawk at one another; then you hear Taehyung leave the apartment once more, and the both of you dissolve into a fit of unabashed laughter.

“Are you okay?” You ask once you’ve calmed down enough as he reaches out to shut the shower off. You plant a kiss in your boyfriend’s hair. “You hit your head coming down.”

Jungkook’s heart swells at your gentle touches and smiles. “I’m fine,” he promises brightly. “You?”

“Well, you did just thoroughly fuck me, so━” You shrug innocently. “I’m kinda still too giddy to even care.”

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” he says. “For almost giving you a heart attack with my hair and for almost putting you in the emergency room again just now.”

The mention of his hair draws your attention to it once more. It’s not as wet as before, damp azure waves falling into his eyes that you brush away gingerly.

“Yeah,” You snort, “but I’ve decided I like your hair. Like, really like it.”

“Yeah?” he grins wide. “What was the deciding factor?”

You pause, as if to think for a moment. Exhaustion riddles your body and you know sleeping curled up next to Jungkook is nearing your future, but for now you let yourself entertain the last remnants of whatever lewd thoughts are still on yours and his minds before they fizzle away completely. You can’t help yourself anyway. The blue really is nice.

“Definitely the view of you eating me out,” You say. “And can’t forget how pretty it looks when I’m pulling at your hair.”

“Say no more,” he beams. “Then I’ll make it up to you by making you cum on my tongue again and again and again.”

The last thing he hears before he grabs at your cheek to softly pull you down to him for one last kiss, slow and ardent, is a bubbly giggle from you that delights him to no end.

“That’s a good boy.”

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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hyunverse · 3 years

Text

more than friends | gojo satoru

✧ part two for friendzoned

✧ gender neutral

✧ genre; fluff

✧ requested by anon(s)

✧ note. i swear i'll put a "read more" line later. i'm on mobile rn 🗿

gojo satoru is late again. he arrives at jujutsu tech an hour late, a result of him stopping by a few shops to buy sweets. he could've teleported but for petty reasons, he didn't. "could use some fresh air", he'd reason.

you're standing by the field, monitoring your students' activities. you laugh as panda spin nobara around in the air, inumaki running after her flying body. they're currently hard at work, practising for the school event.

at the sight of you, gojo's reminded of your confession to him. he gulps, hoping the bitter taste on his tongue will subside. but it doesn't. the bitterness— harsher than the taste of dark coffee, doesn't leave his tongue. he hates that.

"they're working quite hard", gojo says, casually. as if acting like he's fine would somehow make things fine.

"yeah", you reply, doing the same thing he's doing. acting like the confession didn't happen. maybe if you tried hard enough it'll be like you didn't pour out your feelings at all.

gojo watches as you laugh at inumaki yelling "tuna, tuna" at the top of his lungs, chasing after nobara. he notices the way your eyes shine while you laugh and how you don't even try to hold back your giggles. gojo finds them cute. he wonders why he hasn't noticed those small details before. a voice in him screams, "it's because you're always saying you're attractive, you never notice others' physicals", making gojo frown. that's partially true and he doesn't like that.

"hey, we should get lunch after this", you interupt his thoughts.

the sorcerer looks up. looking into yours eyes, he tries to search for any sign of sadness, awkwardness— anything that'll show how you're affected by his rejection but he couldn't find any. shouldn't he be happy that you're okay? he knows he should, but something inside of him feels dissapointed.

"yeah, my treat".

six times. gojo had glanced at you six times now, all in a span of an hour. the fact that he even counted shows just how self conscious he's feeling at the moment.

you're twisting noodles around your fork, vegetables abandoned at the side of your plate. gojo, sitting right in front of you eats his mochi quietly. an abnormal silence— the man usually always has something to say. you don't complain though, you needed some silence after hours of training your students.

"hey, look at this video", you break the silence, sliding your phone across the table for him to see. hands on the table, your pinky grazes against his. like it's a reflex, you pull away your pinky, leaving gojo even more confused.

the skin contact between you went by so quick, gojo's mind starts to imagine. a picture of you holding his hand pops up in his mind, and he feels goosebumps all over his body. but the memory of you flinching and pulling your fingertips away knocks out all the images out of his head.

they're acting like i'm poisonous, gojo monologues. he watches from the side of his eyes as you put your hands down under the table, tapping your fingers against the wooden table. gojo pushes your phone back to you.

"let's go", he gets up, and you do too. he holds his arm up to you— a muscle memory. he always does that, it's been a platonic thing all these years.

unlike always, you don't link your arms with his.

day by day, gojo starts to understand his feelings. he had realized that they aren't platonic, but he only realized just how intense his feelings are one day at a meeting.

yaga sits at the edge of the table, scanning the reports in hand. you sit between nanami and gojo, legs crossed.

you've always been a professional shaman. you get shit done and you smile at your coworkers. you have fun, and you're dedicated to your work. "classic lovely y/n", people would say everytime one brings up your amazing mannerisms.

gojo knowing you for years is no stranger to those compliments. however, he draws a line when the "compliments" sound like flirting.

"you're a lovely individual, i'd love to work with you someday", nanami utters, before turning his attention back to yaga. gojo can see the blush creeping up your cheeks, and your fingers fiddling with your top.

"flirting in work now, nanami?", gojo wastes no time to call the male out. nanami looks at the sorcerer, an eyebrow raised.

"it's just a small compliment".

gojo grits his teeth. then why does the small compliment irks him so much?

nothing annoys you more than people ringing your door bell when you're sleeping, not even stubborn curses. still in your pajamas you somehow make it to your door (by somehow, you'd stubbed your toe against a furniture and you walked while holding the wall).

"y/n", a drunk gojo slurs. you rub the sleepiness out of your eyes, inviting him in once you've established that it really is gojo.

gojo walks into your house, crashing right onto your couch. the couch you used to watch movies with him on, sharing laughters and screams together. one time you watched the conjuring with gojo, he spent the whole time during the introduction bragging over how he wouldn't be scared but he'd literally jump at the slightest scary things.

"why are you drunk at 3 am, satoru?", you ask, tossing a mineral bottle his way, "sober up".

he groans and tosses the bottle away, leaning his messy head against the burgundy couch. the leather couch lessens the heat he's feeling on his body.

you chuckle before sitting beside him, closing your eyes shut, too lazy to get into bed. you managed to dodge any private interactions with him for the past few months but since he's knocked out, it should be okay, right? plus it's been so long, you're sure (sort of) he had forgotten about your confession.

gojo suddenly hums a song softly, a song you couldn't quite recognize. he pulls your arm and links it with his.

"you're so beautiful", he says. flat out. just those words. knocking oxygen out of your soul.

"satoru?"

"mhm. so pretty", he says again, making you look up at him to see him looking at you. there are some red hues in his eyes, clearly showing the fact that he's drunk.

that's why you're shocked; gojo satoru is an honest drunk. whatever that comes out of his mouth when he's drunk are truths.

"you think so?", you take advantage of his state. a nod of his head causes your heart to blossom.

"yeah like, i like you a lot. because you're like... really cute. especially when you smile. i really, really want to be more than friends".

#gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #apollo.html #gojou #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou fluff #gojo imagines #gojo satoru imagines

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itsallyscorner · 3 years

Note

Can you write a little mix member x avengers cast?? Maybe?

Hello love! Thank you for the request, I apologize for taking so long to work on it! I’ve written this as a headcanon, since I haven’t done any of those in a while. I hope you like it❤️

💌.

The Marvel Cast Finds Out You’re In Little Mix

Why is this lowkey a crack fic/headcanon😭💀

Alrighty so, I feel like they probably wouldn’t know you’re part of a band or who Little Mix is.

Since SADLY, the girls aren’t as big in the States as we’d like them to be:(

The people who definitely might know you are ✨The Brits✨ and Scarlett because she has a young daughter who probably listened to Wings or something—kids find everything on the internet these days.

Working with Marvel was your first acting gig; so none of them knew anything about you or if you’ve been in other films, etc.

Except for Tom Holland, who was lowkey fangirling at the fact he gets to work with one of the Little Mix members.

Side note: he’ll be deeply offended when he figures out the others don’t know about Little Mix or that you can sing.

The rest of the cast (RDJ, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Seb, Lizzie, etc.) had a hunch that you were some kind of writer.

You were always humming to yourself and writing in your notebook or typing down notes in your phone when something came to mind.

Though they didn’t pry at your business because—well, it wasn’t their business.

They could find out about your other job through many ways. Maybe you guys are doing promo and some interviewers mention the band and things about a new album, to which most of them were confused about.

“So (Y/n), I know this is your first time acting. How different was it from performing on stage and acting on camera?”

Everyone’s attention would be on you (this is a panel btw) Mackie’s looking at the back of your head in confusion, Robert fully turns in his seat to look at you, Lizzie is also curious, Evans is looking between you and the reporter—everyone is just confused.

“Performing on stage? Did you do Broadway (y/n/n)?” Evans asked. Tom (Holland) scoffed shaking his head, disgusted to be part of this group of uncultured swines.

You chuckled and shook your head, “No, I’m a singer. I’m part of a girlband.”

The whole cast gasped in shock. Mackie let out a loud “WHAT?!”. Robert leaned even closer to you trying to see if you were lying. Others whispered amongst themselves asking each other if they knew.

Tom (Holland) just sat back watching everyone’s reactions along with you. Amused at the amount of questions that were suddenly being thrown your way.

He’d also be quick to add, “NOT just ANY girlband, but the biggest girlband on the planet.”

For clarification, Tom’s a very proud Mixer.

Scarlett finally recognized you, knowing that she’s seen you somewhere before, but could never put her finger onto it. “Wait you’re from Little Mix!”

“THANK YOU! FINALLY SOMEONE WITH SOME TASTE!” Tom yelled, dramatically turning to Scarlett.

After the initial shock, everyone was very curious. They wanted to hear your music, wanted to know the other members, when your next tour was—they were very ecstatic.

When you guys finally reached London for the press tour, there was a lot of hype for Little Mix because you guys were going to finally reunite after months of being apart.

The girls were allowed to visit set, but since you guys were working on your new album, they were stuck in London. You were relocated to Atlanta, filming an Avengers movie and working on the album via FaceTime/Zoom.

You and the girls reunite the same night you land in London! As tired as you were, the five of you hung out in your hotel room.

You were all excited for the days to come. Not only were you doing promo for the movie but you and the girls were going to be performing again on night time talk shows and were having a Live Lounge session with BBC Radio 1.

The panel of the cast discovering you were part of a band went viral. Many of the fans couldn’t believe they didn’t know about your other job.

There were even edits going around social media of the cast looking clueless and or reacting to your ‘secret’.

Then there were ones like “Tom Holland being a Mixer for 10 minutes and 57 seconds straight”.

Your favorite one was where they zoomed in on everyone’s confused expression while that one Nicki Minaj song played in the background.

It was mentioned in almost every interview after it went viral.

“So none of you had a clue that (y/n) was also a singer? Like at all?”

“I didn’t even know homegirl could sing, matter of fact I never imagined her to be in a girlband.” — Anthony Mackie

“I had a hunch that she was a musician or artist, but no one ever listens to me.” — Chris Evans

“(Y/n)’s in a girlband? Since when?” — Paul Rudd

“After we found out, I listened to all six of their albums on the flight here.” — Elizabeth Olsen

“Of course I knew, my music taste is immaculate compared to the others.” — Tom Holland

“Shut the fuck up, Tom.” — Anthony Mackie

“I really enjoy Black Magic, it reminds me of Wanda.” — Paul Bettany

The cast was so eager to hear you sing and watch you perform with the girls.

They finally got to do that when you invited them to the Live Lounge session. They also got to meet the girls.

You were very happy at that moment; seeing the two groups of people you love meeting each other and getting along meant a lot to you. It gave you a lil warm tingle in your heart.

Since there were no fans in the studio, it was only you and the girls, the band, and a bunch of the Avengers.

While the cameras rolled and you guys were performing, they were crowded together behind the scenes. Some of them were sitting on the carpeted floors or standing against the walls.

They were absolutely stunned when they heard you sing. You had a powerful voice that ranged from high to low, something they never expected of you.

When they heard you and the girls sing or harmonize with each other, it was like they were all in heaven.

“They sound like angels.”

“My ears are tingling, but like in a good way.”

“Seriously, how did we not know she can sing like this?”

“Hear me out—this is a perfect reason as to why we should have an Avengers musical.”

“Chris if we hear you bring up a damn musical one more time I swear.”

“Their voices go so well together, how do they even do that?”

Scarlett would secretly film videos to show her daughter. I have a feeling that Evans, Tom, RDJ, Sebby, and Mark would record some parts as well and would post it onto their Insta stories.

When fans found out they were at the Live Lounge they freaked out.

Ever since they found out you were in a band, they’ve been the biggest fans and supporters of the group.

They’re always promoting your albums on their social media accounts without you even asking.

Privately and publicly praising you guys for performances or achievements.

Your two main groups clashed and now everyone was friends. It was definitely the most weirdest collision— Little Mix and the cast of the Avengers. But it worked out perfectly.

Everyone got along with each other and the girls would always visit you on set.

They’re always playing the band’s song in the background on set.

Most of them won’t admit, but they definitely memorized the lyrics to almost every song.

*cough cough* Mackie and Hemsworth

I feel like Samuel L. Jackson would join in on the action too, one way or another. Somehow he got looped in.

ANOTHER THING OMG, they would definitely stand up for you and the girls whenever Piers Morgan or some asshole hates on you guys or pulls a jab on you all.

Best beileve Evans will be calling him out publicly on Twitter.

“Why are you so worried about a bunch of talented women who are doing their job and bringing happiness to others? They’ve done nothing to you, you’re always the one making jabs at them. Leave them alone you fucking British meatball.”

I feel like Robert helped you and the girls find a better management company after learning about the unfair treatment you all faced under Simon’s care.

In conclusion: The Marvel cast would be ecstatic to learn about you being a singer and they’d become your biggest fans. They truly adore you and the girls for your amazing talent :’)

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roscgcld · 3 years

Text

HEADCANON + VARIOUS || daydreaming!reader turning into a toddler

request: Okay you know the turn into toddler on but with bimbo reader, she'd be so cute ❤️❤️as a toddler and they have an excuse to use the leash because children are fast

note: this was originally going to be an ask, but then I decided to write headcanons for our daydreaming!reader - so this was born lmaoooo. i hope you enjoy cx you can find all the original prompts for this under the hashtag daydreaming!reader on my profile!

also - yuta is going to be in this because let’s be honest - stressed yuta is lowkey really cute lol

pronouns: she/her

daydreaming!reader masterlist

let me say this - when she was first turned into a child, it was absolute chaos

the worse part was it happened mid battle - one moment she was charging to the curse with her katana in hand, next thing the rest of them knew she had shrunk and she was freefalling from the jump she launched herself into

yuji, who was the closest to her, widen his eyes before he ran towards his senior and caught her before she landed on the ground, holding her against his chest as he stares down at the girl with wide eyes; who blinked up at him as well

“Y-Y/N-senpai?” yuji mutters in shock as he stares down at the young girl in his arms, who just smiles back before she reaches up to cup her tiny hands on his sweaty cheeks.

“doggy.”

after the curse was exorcise, the rest of the first years gathered around yuji, since they were supposed to accompany their senior out to exorcise a curse in a nearby hospital

how are they going to go back to school carrying a child with them?

they did - and the first person they ran into was gojo, who waited by the door to greet his students; only to freeze when he saw the child staring back at him in yuji’s arms

“wait a minute,” gojo mutters as he pulls his blindfold down as he narrowed his sapphire eyes at the young girl, who just blinks and smiles up at him in delight. “holy shit - it really is her.”

the first stop they visited was ieiri, who held the giggling child in her arms after running a few tests. “it’s not permanent - it’s a cursed technique. I can’t reverse it since it’s not an actual wound, so the best remedy is waiting.” she stated as she bounced the young girl in her arms, who was busy playing with her hair in her tiny hands. “my guess is that it’ll last no more than 24 hours.”

24 hours wouldn’t be that hard, right? i mean, they already take care of her on the daily - what’s another 24 hours?

well - the fact that she runs on pure energy. fushiguro looked down as he pulled out a tissue from the packet he was holding in his hands for one second, and when he looked up again, she was missing

it took the three first years and their tall teacher a solid 10 minutes before they found her

she was curled up in inumaki’s arms, the cursed speech user just cuddling her without a care in the world while maki looked mortified that her already handful classmate was now a child

and she hates children with a burning passion

after getting the brief rundown by their teacher, they just watch how the little girl, who was now set down on her feet, ran about their legs as she giggles to herself; as if she was trying to traverse an endless maze. “what an idiot.”

the next person who saw her was yuta, who returned from a meeting with the higher ups

he had entered the campus, just in time to see gojo running past with a child on his shoulders, giggling to her heart’s content

that sight alone was confusing to yuta, but when gojo noticed him and came over with a grin, yuta got a good look at the child resting on his tall teacher’s shoulders

and then almost past out from the shock of seeing his fellow classmate blinking down at him, her small hands gripping onto gojo’s hair as she smiles down at him

after a cup of tea and a lengthy explanation, yuta watches the young girl play with the strap of his weapon’s bag that resting on the ground, making a noise

“at least now we have a reason to use the child leash.”

“..now that you’ve mention it - we should break it out.” maki stated simply before she got up and left, leaving yuta to explain to the confused group of people how him and maki had purchased a children’s leash to use on her whenever they go out to tokyo so they never loose her

they never really had a chance to use it; but since she is the way she is now, it was probably the better option then running around chasing her

so now there was maki, with one end of the leash wrapped around her hand whilst the other was wrapped around the young girl’s wrist as she ran about

feeding her was an absolute pain - it took a solid 30 minutes to get her eat half of the food since she kept getting side tracked and forget to chew her food. so it just sat in her cheeks as she played with yuta’s fingers or tried to catch a flying beetle

poor maki got the scare of her life when the little girl gifted her a squirming beetle that refused to crawl off her uniform; her grossed out expression evident as she flicked it off with her fingers

nobara and yuji were laughing their asses off as gojo recorded the entire incident. inumaki was biting his fist as he shook with laughter while yuta grinned and told the confused girl how she shouldn’t be picking up bugs at random unless she ‘wants them to give you an owie’

for once they had a relatively normal day - cloud watching, flower picking, feeding the koi fish in the pond on the school grounds, playing tag in the huge field. she forced everything to do the more mundane somewhat normal things as well, forcing everyone to take a well deserved break

by the time the evening arrived, many of the students and gojo were laying on the grassy field of the school compound, watching how the sky slowly started to bleed with different shades of reds and oranges as the sun started to set

“is it bad that i enjoyed this day?” fushiguro muttered as he closes his eyes, one arm covering his eyes whilst the other was petting his Devine dog that he had summoned to track the little girl down earlier

she had escaped to go and pick flowers in the wooded area, almost giving everyone a heart attack when they couldn’t find her.

“nah, it was nice.” maki said with a tired hum as she watches the clouds, her head laid against panda’s side whilst yuta laid on the ground beside her, watching the clouds with a content sigh. “who knew it took a brat to make us relax.”

said brat was fast asleep in nobara’s side, who cuddled the sleeping girl close. “well, whatever the reason may be - i enjoyed it a lot, and it will be fun to look back on in the future.”

somehow they managed to clean her from all the sweat and dirt before tucking her back in her room, and somehow had to read a few bedtime stories after she whines and refuses to go to bed until she was read to

by the time the others went to bed, they were pretty much dead to the world - having the best night’s sleep after having been worked to the bone by one child

when the next morning arrived, and maki saw a sleepy Y/N walking about tiredly as she tried to fill her bottle of water from the water fountain, she just sighs in relief

to the point where she goes over and hugs the sleepy girl, who just yawned and hugged her back with one arm while the other filled her bottle of water

“good morning to you too, maki.”

when she saw all the videos and pictures of what happened yesterday, she just smiles over at the tired students, clapping her hands softly in delight

“at least you guys had fun, no?”

her simple answer had everyone pausing as they shared a look with one another before they all just agreed, since yesterday was definitely fun

maybe having her as a child wasn’t that bad after all

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Corpse’s Girl

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?

Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤

P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘

Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.

He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.

“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.

I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.

“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.

I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.

“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.

The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.

“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.”

I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.

The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting.

“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“

He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”

I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”

“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.

“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.

He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“

I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“

He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”

I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“

He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”

I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.

Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.

“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.

I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.

My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”

“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.

“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“

I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.

My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.

I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.

When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.

“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“

I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”

I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.

“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt.

I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“

And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....

I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.

“This is all my fault.“

Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.

“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.

“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.

I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.

Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.

While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.

“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.

And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.

My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.

And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.

Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.

Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.

Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.

I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.

I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.

* * *

I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.

I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.

My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.

I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.

We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold.

“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.

I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.

“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“

“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.

Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.

Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.

Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.

* * *

Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours.

I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper.

And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity.

I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.

One tear slides down my cheek.

Another follows.

And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.

A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.

“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.

Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.

I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.”

He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”

I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life.

What do I have to lose?

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.

I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.

It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.

Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me.

I choose to believe the latter.

And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.

“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“

His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”

He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”

I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”

He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat

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songbirdstyles · 3 years

Text

hangin’ on the telephone

summary: you decide to tease harry on a zoom for his class. he’s less than thrilled.

warnings: smut (18+), masturbation, phone/facetime sex, voyeurism/exhibitionism, some fluff?

word count: 5k

song inspo.: hanging on the telephone - blondie; sometimes on a fantasy - billy joel; love on the telephone - foreigner

author’s note: this doesn’t quite fit with the events of when i’m sixty-four and lola - this is if reader was in harry’s class during quarantine. don’t think about it too hard

Harry’s camera is shaky when the class first begins - his screen seems to quiver in itself as he adjusts it, large hand nearly completely blocking him from view before he adjusts himself properly. His camera quality is higher than yours and anyone else’s in the class, for that matter - courtesy of the expensive computers the university had provided to all of its teachers so they wouldn’t complain about how many Zooms they had to have.

That’s what his theory is, anyway. The university says they think its of utmost importance that all of our staff are treated to the highest levels of technology available - but the Macbooks they gave out were from 2015. Certainly not the highest levels.

In every other one of your classes, teachers hold their class as the only colorful block amongst a sea of turned off cameras, white letters reflecting the name of the student to make up for the lack of facial recognition. In Harry’s class, though, there are at least two pages of turned on cameras, and you don’t pretend to not know why. Surely everyone in this class - girls and guys alike - holds some similar fantasy that your professor will somehow fall in love with them through their grainy video on Zoom -

Well, unbeknownst to them, you’re the only one that gets to live that fantasy. In fact, it’s hardly a minute after the Zoom has begun that Harry murmurs jus’ wait a minute f’everyone t’get here - and the apex of your thighs is already heating up.

It’s been so long. Nearly three months since you’d last seen him in person - since you’d last felt his palms pressed to your cheeks, his hips tight against yours, his lips trailing a path up and down the soft column of your throat. And your relationship had never been entirely about sex but it’s a large part of it, feeling each other, and even if you’ve been calling each other for hours nearly every single night, it isn’t enough. You miss him so much it twists at your heart, most days, though it does, admittedly, feel nice to see him in class Zooms.

He’s donning a pink button up, the top button mercifully undone, curls messy and unstyled, and every so often he brings his hand up to run his fingers through it. You’re sure if you could see his full body you’d be able to see the blue checkered pajama pants he wears during all of your lazy days together - he’d never liked wearing dress pants when he didn’t have to. He’s in his bedroom, sitting at his desk, and you can recognize the curtains behind him from the many days (and nights) you’d spent in that exact room together before the entire world had went to shit, and now you miss those stupid curtains so much you can practically taste the desire on your tongue.

You shift in your seat, desire burning in between your legs. You’re not sure if the quirk in Harry’s eyebrow is due to recognition of the simple movement - he’d teased you enough times to recognize every single one of your mannerisms, even ones you didn’t know existed - or if he’s simply acknowledging that all of his students have finally entered the Zoom, but the movement still brings a small smile to your lips.

“Alrigh’, then - looks like we’re all here, now. May as well get started, hmm?” Harry begins, voice booming over everyone’s muted cameras, and the girls on your screen look like they’re practically swooning at the raspiness in his voice. You would judge them if you were a different type of person, but, God, his voice would bring an angel to her knees. You’re sure you look just as needy for him as they do. “Gave y’some questions from last class, right?” The class collectively nods. “Pull those out, then. We can go over them an’ have some discussions an’ analysis, all tha’ - easy class f’today.”

You minimize your Zoom screen and tap into your Google Docs, searching through your most recent documents until you find the questions he’d pushed out to all of you last class - you click on it and watch as your answers fill your screen before looking back to the Zoom, nibbling on your lower lip as you glance at Harry’s screen again.

He’s so composed in the most casual way possible - you can’t possibly know how he manages it. He looks almost like another student, leaning forward to rest his chin against his palm as he waits for everyone to get to their questions, and your breath hitches in your throat as you stare at him, suddenly feeling entirely too hot in your hoodie (his hoodie, actually) as your skin heats.

Simple fix. You grab the bottom of your hoodie and tug it off in one smooth motion, littering it on the side of your desk with a nonchalance that came naturally to you - the cool air of your parent’s basement does little to relieve the heat you feel, the burn seeming to come from the inside out, but you still relish in the coolness that washes over you like a wave. You’re simply wearing a tank top, the straps spaghetti thin and light blue, and you lean back in your seat with a soft sigh.

Harry coughs. It draws numerous eyes back to the screen at the sudden noise, and you furrow your eyebrows as you glance over towards him -

Realistically, there’s no way to know if he’s looking at you. You know that. And yet, somehow you know that he’s staring at you, his eyes darkening in a way that would be unnoticeable to anybody else but you know him. You know how he gets when he’s horny - like when you bent over in front of him to pick up your pencil, knowing it would make his pants feel just a bit tighter, and when you turned back to look at him you could fucking see the green hue of his eyes deepening in shade.

You hadn’t even meant to make him horny by taking off your hoodie, and that’s the truth. Maybe you’re both a bit touch starved from your months apart - but, no matter. You like watching him get like this, examining the way he shifts in his seat like you had moments before, and a smirk tinges your lips as you discreetly reach for the bottom of your tank top, tugging it down just a little bit further down your chest until your cleavage and the top of your bra peeks through. Then you lean forward, narrowing your eyes as though you’re searching through your computer for the questions, and you swear you can hear Harry’s breath catch.

He clears his throat, then. It’s a casual noise and it brings everyone’s attention back to him. “Let’s start wit’ number one - anyone want t’share their answer? Jus’ need a starting point f’our discussion - Sophie, good girl, go ahead.”

Sophie unmutes herself and begins reading her answer for the first question on your sheet, her voice just a bit higher than it usually is and you don’t pretend not to know why - but you’re not focused on it. Harry is smirking, lips tilted slightly upward as he nods along to Sophie’s answer even if you can tell he isn’t listening, and your heartbeat thumps harder against your chest.

Good girl? That bastard - and you can tell Sophie’s eating it up, too, skin flushed in a deep pink, and you narrow your eyes at Harry, already reaching for your phone to text him and tell him off - he knows how much you’d hate to hear anyone else being called good girl because that’s for you, dammit - but before you can, a small box pops up in the corner of your screen.

You lean in, squinting to read the small, granulated chat box -

Professor Styles: What’s got you looking so sour all of a sudden?

You roll your eyes. Cheeky asshole. He knows exactly what’s got you all sour, as Sophie’s voice drones on and on, further explaining her answer that hasn’t made too much sense to you, truly, and your fingers fly across your keyboard to furiously type your response.

You: you’re such a dick

His lips turn up into a larger smile, but before you can reach in to type a different response, Sophie has finished her answer and he nods. “Good answer, Sophie - what d’you guys think? Jacob, tha’s good.”

And Jacob begins to speak - his so called addition is just a poorly worded restatement of exactly what Sophie had said - and then you get another notification from your private chat with your professor. You click on the box and your stomach flips -

Professor Styles: Serves you right, practically flashing your tits to everyone in the class.

Professor Styles: If you were here, I’d put you over my knee.

You could moan at that. Holy shit, you really could. You cough into your first as someone else unmutes themselves to add onto Jacob, and you take just a moment to think of your response before you gnaw on your lower lip, fingers loud as you formulate your reply.

You: you would never. way too vanilla for that

It’s a damn lie and you know it. He’s fucking obsessed with spanking you, even if he’d never truly put you over his knee like a punishment but you know he wouldn’t hesitate if you showed the slightest bit of interest in the act - and you most certainly are interested.

But you like pissing him off. Like watching the way a vein jumps in his neck as he nods along to what somebody with their camera off is jabbering about and when they’re finished, his voice sounds just a bit deeper when he says, “Good, good. How ‘bout number two - Elizabeth?”

You tug your tank top down a bit further, smiling sweetly into the camera and to anyone else it may just look like you’re wholeheartedly agreeing with whatever your classmate is saying but you watch Harry’s eyes scan his screen before they surely land on you, and they widen slightly.

Another message pops up in record time - and you’d expected it - but it doesn’t make you any less desperate to lean in and read it.

Professor Styles: Or maybe I’d force you to kneel on the ground with my cock in your mouth for hours.

You: i think you know i’d love that

Professor Styles: Can’t move, can’t touch yourself, can’t do anything.

You swallow thickly, feeling your face heat up desperately. Your cunt is fucking dripping, now, surely desperate for your touch and every time you shift in your seat your clit rubs against the lace of your panties, sending jolts of pleasure rolling through your body as shaky fingers type a response.

You: you wouldn’t be able to last

Professor Styles: I’d last all day just to make you stay there.

Well - you have no shame in resting your hand on your lower stomach, just out of view of your camera. Eyes on Harry’s little box on your screen your fingertips slight down into your sweatpants, digits running over the moist fabric of your thong before pressing to your clit, and a wave of pleasure rolls through your body at the initial touch until you’re practically preening into your grasp, still caressing your cunt over your panties.

The class moves on to the next question - you’ve stopped paying attention ages ago, since the words good girl first slipped out of Harry’s mouth and he messaged you for the first time. You hook a finger into the crotch part of your panties, tugging them to the side and you can feel your wetness, strings connecting your dripping folds to the lace, and your breath picks up as you slip your hand into your panties.

The message comes fast. You’d been expecting it, pressing it open with the hand not shoved into your pants.

Professor Styles: You’re fucking touching yourself, aren’t you

It’s not a question. He can read you like a book - knows every one of your reactions because he was the only one who could pull them from you - and the way you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth, glancing into the camera with an air of faux-innocence, is something he’s come to recognize.

You type your response slowly. Take your time, don’t rush, because you love to make him wait as your fingers slowly move in circles against your clit - too gentle to truly make you feel anything, touch feather soft as you spread moisture around the sensitive nub.

You: of course i am, professor. if you’re not here to do it for me…

You lean back in your office chair - to anyone else you look nonchalant and casual, if a bit bored of the proceedings in class - and your hand slides further into your panties, fingers smoothing up and down your folds until your breathing picks up, chest rising and falling as you finally push your pointer finger into yourself, immediately curling it upwards to brush against the sweet spot inside of your velvety walls that has you pushing your hips against your hands. You’re quivering for your own touch - for Harry’s, more so - as you push your own essence in and out of your cunt, heel of your palm brushing against your clit, before you glance back up at the screen.

And Harry is - God, he’s a sight, is what he is. He’s leaning back in his seat, like you, and you watch for a moment at the way his chest rises and falls against the fabric of his billowy dress shirt. The top button is still undone and as you watch, he reaches up and undoes the second one -

It’s like a collective moan rolls through the fucking class at the action. You can see every girl’s eyes widen on your screen as the overhead lights in Harry’s apartment illuminates the thin shine of sweat on his chest, and if you didn’t know better you’d simply assume that the AC in his apartment must be broken because he merely looks hot as he nods along to the current speaker - but you do know better.

If the camera was angled just a millimeter down, you’re sure you’d see the bulge through his pajama pants, thick and hard and desperate for your attention. For your mouth or your hands or your cunt, squeezing him so good, milking him for everything he’s worth until you’re both sobbing -

You add another finger into your pussy, sliding them in and out with a slow pace that gradually picks up until your ears are filled with the sound of your wetness, sloshing in your panties as you suck your teeth, trying to prevent your mouth from opening in a moan. You may look inconspicuous now but if your lips part in a desperate cry you know people will get suspicious -

Caught in your own pleasure, you’d missed Harry’s messages until the third one pops on your screen, and you scramble to click on the notification before it disappears.

Professor Styles: You’re a brat

Professor Styles: Trying to work me up like this

Professor Styles: Don’t you dare stop touching yourself.

The third one has your eyebrows furrowing - God, of course you’d never stop. You don’t think you could even physically drag your hands away from the pearl between your thighs until you’ve finally come over the edge and you didn’t need Harry to say it. You raise your eyebrows and begin typing your response with your free hand, fingers pumping in and out of your cunt desperately, but you’ve barely finished the text when you hear your name in his fucking voice and -

“What d’you think?” Harry inquires, voice even lower than it had been before, and you resist the urge to drop your mouth open in an appalled gasp as he practically stares into your fucking soul even through Zoom. Your heart drops into your ass and now you know why he’d wanted to confirm that you wouldn’t stop - “Why d’you think Steinbeck structured the book like he did?”

What? You don’t fucking know - you click to unmute yourself, fingers slowing down as you take a breath, tapping until you get to the answer written on your Google Doc. “Um - they’re plot chapters followed by intercalary chapters - they invoke an emotional response from readers.”

It’s a textbook answer, short and shitty and anyone with half a brain could tell that you simply said it so you would get the participation points, and you watch Harry’s eyebrows raised with a poorly-concealed smile.

“How d’they invoke an emotional response, though?”

And he’s such a tease - he loves this, watching you teeter near the edge of your orgasm with shaky breaths as you seemingly contemplate your answer for a moment - fingers circle your clit slowly as you say, “They - they show us the historical and societal background - which - which broadens the scope of the novel.”

You, truthfully, think you did a fairly decent job keeping your composure - sure, your voice was a bit airy, a bit breathy, and you’re sure you tripped a bit over your words, but you at least didn’t moan out wildly in front of your entire class - celebrate the little things. And, yeah, it may not have been the best answer, but Jacob is already unmuting himself to elaborate and restate your entire answer, which feels like a win in your book, at least.

Professor Styles: Good girl. Kept your cool.

You’re practically trembling, resuming your thrusting of your fingers deep within your cunt, as you shakily type your response, fingers quivering on the keyboard.

You: wish you were here

And - when you realize that sounds a bit too sentimental to fit the situation at hand, fingering yourself in front of the entire class - you hurry to type something else.

You: to eat me out

You bring your eyes up to the screen again, fast enough to watch the quick smile spread across his face - his eyes dart around the screen for a moment before landing on a spot that you assume to be your box, and you exhale softly, curling your finger upward to that spot that has your back arching forward, tits pushing closer to the camera before you drop back against your seat.

Professor Styles: I’d do anything to have my face in your cunt right now.

You inhale sharply, nearly coughing as you pick up your speed, lips parting the slightest bit in a soft whine that erupts from your throat before you can try to fight it back - your eyes shut, head falling back against your chair, and you’re so close you can feel your impending release on the tip of your tongue like your favorite meal.

It’s the sound of the chat notification on Zoom that makes your eyes open, and you click on it. It’s hard to read, vision going fuzzy as your orgasm comes closer and closer, but you can make it out -

Professor Styles: Eyes open.

Professor Styles: And keep your camera on when you cum.

You practically whimper at the request but you oblige - eyes opened and staring directly at his box, at the way his face is practically bright red, sitting up straighter in his seat. He’s moved his camera angle up more, concealing his abdomen until only his chest and head is visible, showcasing the two undone buttons at the top of his pink shirt.

He sure doesn’t look composed now. Not a total disaster - but not the cool, calm professor who had first opened Zoom nearly 45 minutes ago.

Your eyes are moving towards the camera when you notice something in his box that has your eyebrows raising, eyes wide and alert as you squint, fingers briefly paused in their mission to get you to orgasm -

Your free hand flies across the keyboard as you type the message, mind spinning with the image you’d seen - the way his fabric creased near his shoulder, like his arm had been moving up and down with an unbridled, jerky pace -

You: are you jerking off, professor?

And you can see the exact moment he reads the message, his eyes widening, before he unmutes himself and loudly proclaims, “Question 4, then? W - Who wants t’start us off? Jamie, good, tell us wha’ you’ve got.”

And Jamie goes off in some tangent about their answer, words sounding like mud in your brain, as Harry mutes himself once more, and it’s only another moment until you get the next message.

Professor Styles: How could you expect me not to?

Good answer. You know that if you’d caught him jerking off before you had the chance to stick your hands down your panties, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself - but it’s still surprising, watching the fabric of his shirt rustle. It’s not obvious in a way anyone else could tell but you can, and that’s all that matters.

You pull your fingers out of your cunt, bringing your sodden fingers up to your clit. You’resoclosesoclosesoclose - your trembling fingers rub hard circles into your clit, pussy fluttering around the emptiness after you’ve pulled your fingers out, and you clench your muscles taut as you pinch the sensitive nub -

Fuck. There it is - a burning sensation throughout your body as flames lick up your body, rocking through every inch of your skin - it’s all you can do to sit there, legs spread, practically biting back the urge to sob out with the force of it all, and keeping a poker face feels like some sort of torture form. Your cunt jolts beneath your fingers as you try and ride yourself through it, sticky wetness coating your fingers with proof of your release until it’s all over your sweatpants, soaking the gray fabric darker.

Harry’s the only person who’s ever made you squirt - twice, it happened, once into his mouth and the other around his cock as he overstimulated you until you were practically sobbing. And he’d loved it, too, pulling out even though he hadn’t cum yet and sinking to his knees to lap the moisture from between your thighs, eyes rolling back into his head as though it brought him such pleasure to sit there and eat you while you grabbed at his hair.

You’ve never done it yourself. Not with just your fingers.

The next message comes before the aftershocks have finished rolling through your body, and you need to take a few seconds to compose yourself before reaching to read it.

Professor Styles: I love watching you cum.

You resist the urge to smile, resting your palm against your swollen cunt as you use the other hand to type your response.

You: squirted all over my hand.. wish you could’ve seen it

You can practically hear the way he chokes when he reads it, even through his muted mic, and your response comes in seconds.

Professor Styles: I’m wrapping up the class early. Stay after.

It’s a demand and one that you’re more than willing to oblige, giving one unceremonious jerk of your head upwards as you lean back into your seat. And, true to his word, he unmutes himself, declaring loudly that since he wanted an easy day you could all leave early - not too early, mind you, a mere seven minutes before the class would officially be over - but he could let the class out twenty seconds early and they’d act like he canceled an exam.

People unmute themselves to say goodbye before boxes quickly begin disappearing, the number of participants dropping down until it’s just the two of you, squares side by side next to each other, and you reach to unmute yourself the second the last person has left.

“Harry - Harry, fuck,” you breathe, pushing your computer back and angling it down more so he can see your body. He unmutes himself and you can hear his gasped breathing as he pushes his own laptop back until you can see him fully and - “Fuck.”

His pajama pants are pushed past his cock, curling towards his stomach and an angry shade of red. His fist wraps tight around it, pumping himself up and down with his chest rising and falling desperately, and the thought of him doing this during your Zoom call has another pang of pleasure rolling through your body from your clit.

“Unbutton your shirt,” you beg him, propping your foot on your desk as you shimmy your sweatpants down your thighs, kicking them off into a pile on the floor. Your cunt is exposed to him, covered only by a sopping scrap of lace that you call underwear, and you’re quick to pull it away from your pussy to show him as you dip your fingers back down to your clit, circling it freely. You’re still entirely too sensitive, and the simple motion has your chest arching vehemently, but you can’t watch him do this without feeling the overwhelming urge to cum again and again -

He obliges, practically tearing the shirt away from his chest until the two halves have split open and you get an eyeful of his chest, littered in tattoos that only you get the pleasure of seeing - the butterfly you love to press your palms against when you ride his face - the ship you always grasp when you’re rolling against his thigh -

“Finger y’self,” Harry grunts, breathing desperate and heavy as you lean back in your seat, exposing yourself further to him, your chest heaving. “An’ take off tha’ tank top.”

You grab the end of the shirt, tugging it up and over your head and littering it on the side of your office chair, pulling the straps of your bra down your arms so you can peel the cups away from your tits, displaying your peaked nipples to him, and he moans at the sight, the noise low and guttural. You slide two fingers into your cunt easily, the dripping essence of your release still lubricating your digits to push in and out of yourself.

It isn’t going to take long for either of you - you can tell. He plants his free palm on the edge of his desk, leaning forward and baring his chest to you, and you push yourself to sit up more, resting your free hand on your tits. Fingers pinch at your nipple, the peaked bud sending rays of euphoria through your body, and you drop your head back with a desperate whine.

“Y’close?” Harry asks through gritted teeth, words interrupted with needy breaths and gasps as you nod, and you can tell that anything he’d said about punishing you is gone - he won’t stop you now, not when you’re so close, not when all either of you want is to touch each other. You want to reach through the camera, to press your lips to his, feel his palms smooth up and down your back before traveling downwards until he can slide his fingers into your cunt - one of his is bigger than both of yours, and he’d fill you up so good you wouldn’t be able to do anything else but cry out.

And you - you’d rest your knees on either side of his thighs, lowering yourself into his lap as his length slides against your stomach. Scraping your nails through his hair always makes him cry out and your fingers tense around your breasts as you imagine it, thinking of the way he’d moan and beg for you to pull it harder, lowering his lips to your nipple as you obey him.

You’ll always obey him. (In bed, at least.) God, you really would sit on your knees for hours, holding his cock in your mouth like it’s your fucking job, and you’d love it, too.

“Look at me, baby,” Harry moans, voice crackling through the speaker of your shitty computer and you oblige, hazy eyes rolling upwards to the camera, and you swallow thickly, pumping your fingers faster in and out of your cunt. “Look at me when y’cum … c’mon, baby.”

You don’t need much more encouragement than that. With one curl of your fingers upwards to hit the sweet spot deep within your velvet core you cum, eyes rolling back into your head with a piercing cry that makes you entirely too grateful that it’s your parents’ date night - your cunt clenches and unclenches around your fingers as you finally hit your peak, breath coming out in needy groans as you release over your fingers.

You’ve barely finished when Harry’s tell-tale groan sounds through the basement and you snap your eyes back to his figure, glancing at him just in time to see him cum, white ribbons spurting out of his cock and coating his hand and the sleeve of his pink dress shirt. He drops his head forward with a grunt, fist still jerking up and down his dick as though he’s trying to milk every last drop all over his abdomen, and your breathing turns more jagged as you watch like he’s a fucking piece of art and you’re nothing but a spectactor.

And then - for a moment - there’s silence. Not silence, in its literal definition, as desperate, heaving breaths pierce the air even screens apart, and you’re not sure which of you will be the first to speak. You can hardly breathe right, let alone say any coherent sentence, and Harry takes the lead.

“Did good, baby,” he breathes, voice so soft you can barely hear it, and you nod, wiping your moist hand on your outer thigh. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you tell him, pushing yourself to sit up more. “And your dick.”

He exhales a shaky laugh, raising his hand to examine the cum that coats his palm and fingers as though he’s never seen anything like it. “Yeah - I miss y’pussy. Not used t’not cumming in you.”

“Yeah,” you begin. “Feel empty without -”

You’re cut off before you can finish as Harry raises his fingers to his mouth, pink tongue darting out to lick at the bits of cum that decorate his skin. Your lips part needily as you watch him, eyes wide as saucers until he’s fully lapped up every ribbon of cum, and he smacks his lips as though he’d enjoyed a great meal.

“Don’t get how y’swallow so often,” Harry says, and even through his faux-casual demeanor you can see the corners of his lips turning up at your state. “Really doesn’t taste good -”

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“M’horny again.”

#harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #prof!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles drabble #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic

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pasteljeon · 4 years

Text

sincerely, yours (m)

summary: in which you return to an apartment full of 7 horny boyfriends.

pairing: ot7 x reader

warnings: pining, dirty talk, heavy petting, sexual tension

length: 2.9k

notes: this is another blm commission written for the amazing @/himbeaux-joon. thank you so much for your support and donation! i hope you enjoy n forgive me for the wait.

“You’re fucked.”

You pull your phone away from your ear out of pure disbelief. Squinting at the screen, you’re assured you’re speaking to the right person when your friend’s name peers back at you.

“Sorry?”

She said it so casually and offhandedly you do a double take. Your luggage rolls noisily behind you, a hefty and rather rickety thing, though you don’t quite have the heart to rid of it just yet. It has character, stickers and stamps collected from your various travels scattered on the cover. Some are fraying and others greying and half-peeled. Some are new, recently added to the collection and sparkle almost obnoxiously next to your dying ones.

“You are so fucked,” she laughs. It’s less of a laugh and more of a cackle. You check your phone again. Still her.

“Are you going to elaborate on that?” You say dryly as you finally wheel yourself out of customs. The last month has been hectic, your job and position requiring you to fly overseas for the past three weeks. You would think your boys would have been used to the asynchronistic nature of your schedules considering how busy they usually are, but they did finish the last leg of their tour just as you left. Your company offered another two weeks of paid vacation is a thank-you for the generous contract you just signed. Your boys protested and pouted but you took it, adamant about finally taking that much needed break.

They reluctantly let you go, faking tears but understanding, their jobs equally as, if not more, stressful.

“Nope.” She pops the p with some dark sense of satisfaction, and you repress the shiver that crawls down your spine. “But I can say it’s a good type of fucking. You know, the one where you bend Jungkook over the—”

“Okay, got it, thank you,” you cut her off hastily, holding a hand over the speaker to muffle her voice that rises into a sing-song, glancing around discreetly to ensure no one’s eavesdropped over your rather scandalous conversation.

“You ever notice how whiny your boys can get when you’re away?” She teases when you return to the line. Rummaging in your purse for some change, you scan the airport café for some iced coffee, chuckling, “Yes. You have no idea.”

“You know all the boys have a chat exclusive for their very not safe for work thoughts?” she tells you. It makes you choke and laugh simultaneously, the cashier eyeing you strangely as he takes your order.

“I don’t know how they make it sounds so hot,” your friend continues blandly. “Normally it sounds so greasy. But they’re usually so well-behaved and polite. I was so shocked. I had no idea that Jimin liked—”

You yelp, staring down at your shirt. Luckily, it’s dark enough to hide the stain, so you mop it up sheepishly, thanking the server who offers you some napkins, clucking sympathetically.

“What?” You hissed, pulling to the side. You’re whisper-shouting into your phone now. “They did what?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? Didn’t Rhys tell you? He was rolling all over about it,” she snickers. You splutter. Rhys is a close friend to the both of you, and often spent nights gaming with Jungkook and Taehyung. You knew your boys had a group chat with your other male friends but … “But they’re usually so polite,” you exclaim.

Your friend clicks her tongue. “Cue exhibit A. Anyway, good luck girl. You’re gonna need it.” Without waiting for your reply, she ends the call, her cackles cutting off into an odd ringing in your ear.

“Oh dear,” you say to yourself, staring down at your drink. “What am I walking into?”

Your friend’s call is lousy warning, if you’re going to be honest.

Only the maknaes are able to pick you up from the airport, with the remainder of the boys caught up in the photoshoot. They were able to wrap up before your flight landed.

They’re a ball of hazed energy. Dressed casually, face masked and caps donned, they somehow manage to blend in with the crowd of receivers. Your breath catches. In the short time away, you’ve forgotten just how little justice pictures and videos do for them. They’re beautiful.

They watch you like hawks, glazed eyes dark and you’re genuinely a little concerned for Taehyung. The outline of his length presses insistently against his black slacks, but he pays no attention, half-lidded as he peers at you through thick lashes. You’re shocked no one’s carded him for public indecency yet. The image alone is enough to make your core to clench.

There’s no fanfare, no glee, no innocent excitement, no cheerful, “noona!” you expected from the youngest. Instead, Jungkook silently reaches over to relieve you of your luggage, fingers grazing your palm. He pulls down his mask to kiss the corner of your mouth. He visibly tears himself away, and you can see the way his veins pop under the pressure, jaw clenching hard. Electricity sparks down your spine, making you shiver.

“Heart. Welcome back,” Taehyung rumbles as he tips your chin up. His voice is more of a growl, the sound reverberates from his chest, low and incredibly sexy it makes goosebumps rise on your skin.

“I missed you,” Jimin pushes his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. He catches your hand when you reach for him, steadying your shaky knees. You clutch at the sleeve of his turtleneck, his palm cupping the back of your head as his nose skims the column of your throat.

“G-guys, we’re in public,” you manage in a faint whisper, and Jimin’s grip tightens briefly before he reluctantly pulls away. Jungkook takes your other hand, Taehyung leading the way to the car.

They brush your concern off easily, not even bothering to scan their surroundings in case anyone’s recognized them. You do a cursory sweep anyway, but find the airport still relatively empty, the crowd occupied with their own arrivals. Suddenly, you’re once again struck with a profound sense of appreciation for Namjoon’s forever careful scheduling of your flights so this could be possible.

The underground parking lot is quiet, and you exchange no words as Jungkook’s Mercedes comes into view.

The sexual tension is, as they say, palpable.

You move to follow Jimin into the backseat, but Jungkook grabs your wrist, twirling you around. The cool metal meets your heated skin for a brief moment before he pulls you close. “Noona,” he murmurs, bringing your arm to his lips. He fastens his mouth over your pulse point, suckling gently. His lashes tickle your inner wrist.

“Jungkook,” you say breathily, his leg coming to push your thighs apart. You nearly collapse onto him, and he releases you with an agonized sigh. The mark blooms darkly, and he lets out a long exhale.

“Gguk.” There’s a warning in his tone.

“I know,” the maknae bites back. He lets you down slowly, hungry gaze raking over your form one last time before he lets Taehyung help you into the car.

He walks to the driver’s side, forehead pressing against the hood fleetingly before sliding into the seat. It does nothing to settle the heat stirring in his stomach. He can’t bring himself to regret it, though, despite the way his pants dig into his hard cock.

Just a little longer. His fingers grip the wheel tightly, knuckles whitening as he pulls out of the lot.

They can hardly keep their hands off of you, glued to your side the entirety of the ride back.

Jungkook wants to scream out of pure frustration. He can hardly concentrate, though it is the crack of dawn and traffic is sparse.

He can hear the lewd shlick shlick shlick sounds of your makeout sessions. He resists the urge to check the rear-view mirror for the nth time. He knows one glance is enough to make his thighs clench.

He hears your soft, melodic sighs between kisses, lips likely beautifully swollen and plump from their coaxing. He knows that Taehyung is sweet, and that Jimin is eager, a little rough. It's downright pornographic. His eye twitches.

“Mmm, Chim,” you mewl.

That's it. He growls. “Guys, knock it off. Otherwise we’re taking her in the back of my car.”

“Wouldn't be such a bad idea,” Taehyung murmurs, and Jungkook risks a glimpse, only to see Taehyung mouthing at your neck, one hand down your pants. You're a vision, sprawled on Jimin's lap, head tossed back against his neck. Back arched, shirt halfway unbuttoned, bra peeking out and hair disheveled.

“Taehyung,” Jungkook barks. He’s a second away from breaking the wheel. Red light. He watches Taehyung suck a blooming flower against your neckline. He pulls away reluctantly to admire it.

“It's fine,” Jimin pipes up, and Jungkook swears he pops a vessel with the way the older slides a hand up to cup your breast, thumbing your peaks from under the silken material. “We're here.”

The maknae parks the car hastily, all too relieved to be home. He practically yanks the hinges off the passenger door open. Jimin groans, almost falling flat on his ass at the sudden momentum. “Jeon!”

“Sorry,” he mutters, stepping aside for Jimin to step out. Jungkook catches you, stumbling with trembling legs and poorly adjusted shirt. He sweeps you into his arms without another thought, moving briskly towards the entrance. His strength makes you squirm in his hold, clutching his tensed bicep.

“Smell so good,” he groans, and he has to pause at the door, letting you down only to pin you against the glass, kissing you hard.

“Taste so good,” he pants, unable to stop himself from grinding against you. He wants you close, craves you. Your hands snake under his shirt, pushing it up impatiently to flatten your palm against his toned stomach, the other fumbling with his belt.

The sound of the leather and metal coming undone makes him hiss, hips jerking. “Sensitive baby,” you murmur teasingly, fingers digging into his v-line. Jungkook’s breath stutters, cock throbbing unwittingly.

“I’m going to lose my mind,” he moans, slumping onto you as you give his clothed length a tentative squeeze. He’s so incredibly hard it’s painful. The blood rushing to his dick is making him dizzy, a little breathless.

Before you can reply, the door is abruptly wrenched open. You gasp, Jungkook nearly toppling over, but he braces you under his arm, catching you easily.

“Told you he wouldn’t make it in before he succumbed.” You look up to see Hoseok gazing down at you with those strong brows of his, studying you with an intensity that has your body flushing with heat again. Even upside down he’s gorgeous beyond reason.

Jungkook flips you back up, and Hoseok’s lips quirk when he catches you floundering.

“Bet he came in his pants.” Namjoon walks forward, hands in his pockets and his tone is casual, like he’s discussing the menu from your favourite diner.

“Colour me shocked the neighbours haven’t carded the two of you for public indecency,” Yoongi drawls, smirking when Jungkook blushes darkly.

“I’m going to develop abandonment issues if you keep forgetting about us like that.” Jungkook rubs his neck, embarrassed, as Taehyung and Jimin step in with mirroring looks of disgruntlement. Taehyung walks over, lips quirking wryly as you slide your arms over his neck.

“Don’t tease,” you chastise, but he ignores you in lieu of pulling you close, swaying slightly to the sound of his quiet humming. His hands are hot, burning through the thin material of your shirt as he presses you flush against his body.

“Romantic,” you whisper, smiling. Taehyung smiles too, eyes still closed.

“Welcome back, beautiful.” You startle at the sound, but smile at the familiar voice, leaning into his touch. Taehyung allows you to slip from his hold, the newcomer twirling you around.

“Hi, Jin,” you say shyly, biting your lip. Seokjin beams, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Missed you so much,” he says softly. “Was about to lose my sanity if you were away any longer.”

You laugh aloud, and Seokjin looks a little awestruck at the sound, watching you with that soft, adoring look in his eyes. “I thought you would’ve enjoyed the peace while I was gone.”

“Hardly. I was left in a house full of horny kids. The testosterone levels were crazy,” he sighs dramatically. “Pass.”

Somewhere in the background, Namjoon snorts. “Please, hyung. You act like you weren’t jacking off three times a day to her pictures.”

Seokjin squeaks, Hoseok roaring in laughter. Jungkook claps a hand to his mouth, trying and failing to hide his mirth, sexual tension momentarily forgotten.

You loop your arms around his neck with a coy smile. “Is this true, Jinnie?”

“Don’t tease me,” he mumbles into your neck. He feels the shaking of your silent giggles and groans. “I hate you, Joon.”

“If it helps, I’m flattered, you know. And the feeling is mutual, in case you were wondering,” you whisper to him.

“It wasn’t just that,” Seokjin grumbles, glancing away as the tips of his ears darken. “I always want you around. You’re my home, you know.”

Your heart swells, fingers tingling. “Jin,” you say softly, cupping his cheeks. He looks everywhere but at you, complexion mirroring a tomato alarmingly fast. Seokjin, who can dish out sweetness but never take it, mood maker but so shy. Seokjin, who is kind and charming and gorgeous and has a big, beautiful heart.

“I love you so much,” you whisper. He looks at you wonderingly, as if mystified by such an all-encompassing sentiment.

“___ … You have no idea how much I adore you,” Seokjin breathes, a little giddy, a little lightheaded by that fond, warm expression you’re regarding him with.

“Not more than me.” The two of you jump at the sound, jolted from your secluded bubble, to see, shockingly, Yoongi pouting behind the eldest. The composer has his arms crossed, brows knitted and cheeks puffed out.

“Did you forget about us again,” Yoongi says, petulant. You and Seokjin look at one another, stunned, before bursting into laughter.

Namjoon and Hoseok join the rapper, crowding the two of you from the sides, sporting similarly roguish grins. Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook share a mischievous look, squishing in close.

“Guys,” Seokjin complains, broad shoulders being quashed by the sheer force of Jungkook’s biceps. Your face is pressed uncomfortable tight against his – impossibly solid and strong – chest.

“Can’t – breathe,” you yelp, voice muffled. A hand grabs your wrist and pops you from the throng.

“Hello again,” Hoseok grins.

“Hoseokie,” you gasp, a little winded but still incredibly grateful for a breath of fresh air, something the dancer himself seems to embody.

“Sunshine,” he says happily, reaching for you. Before he can wrap himself around you, Namjoon comes slamming in, dimples and all.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed our little reunion, my dick is hard and throbbing and the obscene amount of times I’ve simultaneously cried and jacked off to the sound of your voice is absurd, my cock should’ve wilted at the pure ferocity and angst I’ve poured onto the poor thing, and I am beyond ecstatic to have you back – so much so that I need to rail you against the our skyline balcony, lest I implode within the next two minutes. So! Let’s move to the bedroom, shall we?” Namjoon says matter-of-factly.

“Good idea,” Hoseok beams, completely unfazed by their leader’s rather lewd confession as he scoops you up easily, your boyfriends quickly following suit.

Hoseok sets you down onto the centre of the king-sized bed, silk sheets bunching beneath you as you sprawl over them. You move to sit up on your elbows, but Jungkook hovers over you, pressing you down instantly.

His dark eyes rake over your form unabashedly, one hand popping the surviving buttons of your top and the other pulling off his shirt.

“Greedy maknae.” Jungkook readily ignores Seokjin’s disgruntled mutter in the background as he leans down kiss you.

“Missed your taste,” he murmurs. Your hand trails down his bare chest, retracing every memorized groove and dip of his unfairly gorgeous body.

“Jungkook.” He tears himself away, panting heavily, to glance at Namjoon, who sends him a warning look.

“Don’t be selfish,” the rapper chastises. Jungkook drops his gaze to where you lay splayed out beneath him, hair mussed and lips swollen, chest heaving as you recover from his ministrations.

“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound apologetic at the least. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, growling once before he slides off.

“You’re in for a long night, beautiful,” Hoseok tells you, cupping your face and thumbing your cheek slowly, revelling the heat that tinges your skin. “You have no idea how much we’ve missed you. And not just this.”

“I missed you all too,” you whisper, smile soft.

Yoongi closes the door.

Your phones blow up the entire night, left collectively buzzing beneath the couch cushions.

[03:21] rhys: damn, y’all still banging? it’s been 4 days

[04:28] rhys: i need a gf

“Mmm. Tickles.”

“Good morning, gorgeous.” You smile into the pillow, eyes still closed, turning your head to the side expectantly. You know your expression is a little blissful, and you hear his fond chuckle.

“Love you,” you mumble. Someone presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Love you too, heart.”

#smutcentralnet #ksmutclub #btsghostie #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jimin x reader #jimin smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #ot7 x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut

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cuttoothed · 3 years

Text

Getting this in just under the wire for day 1 of @jonmartinweek prompt “Comfy Jumpers”. I get so much joy from writing these two in s1 and thinking “lol you idiots are going to be in love some day.”

Martin knows that Jon doesn’t approve of the way he dresses.

It’s not exactly a surprise. Jon doesn’t approve of much about Martin: his report-writing, his Latin translations, even his very existence seems to irk Jon at times. Frankly, the feeling is mutual. Martin was perfectly happy working in the library, where his boss wasn’t an overbearing perfectionist arsehole, and if he’d been given a choice in the matter he’d still be shelving books and updating the filing systems, not getting glared at for his clothing choices. He’s well aware that Jon never wanted him in the Archives either, but they’re here now, so Mister Head Archivist is just going to have to live with it. They’re both going to have to.

Jon isn’t subtle about his displeasure; it’s difficult to miss his pointed scowls at Martin’s scuffed trainers and graphic-print t-shirts. And considering that Sasha wears jeans and t-shirts some days as well—though admittedly she tends to plain colors or muted prints, rather than retro video game characters—it’s pretty clear that it’s less about the clothes than it is the person wearing them.

Well, Jon can scowl all he wants, because everything Martin wears technically falls within the Institute’s dress code and there’s not a word Jon can say to him.

Martin has always run hot, so as winter closes in and other people are bundling up in heavy coats and jumpers, he throws hoodies over his t-shirts and zips them up only far enough that the bright graphic prints are still clearly visible to Jon’s critical eye.

Yeah, he thinks sometimes when he walks into Jon’s office, get an eyeful of Yoshi and see how you like it.

Jon, for his part, seems determined to outlast the winter in his usual dress shirt and tweed jacket combo. Martin knows that Jon isn’t particularly warm blooded—he’s seen the way the man huddles into his jacket like a tortoise in its shell until the central heating warms the basement up in the mornings—but he still refuses to add so much as an argyle sweater vest to his outfit in deference to the season.

The only concession Jon makes to the weather is a voluminous gray overcoat and a dark purple scarf, which he takes off the moment he gets into the office, regardless of how cold it is before the ancient heating system creaks to life.

And, well, it’s none of Martin’s business if his boss is too much of a pompous arse to dress appropriately for the weather. If he wants to freeze his backside off to maintain his academic dignity, far be it from Martin to intervene. Martin doesn’t feel sorry for him, when he sees Jon blowing on his fingers to warm them up, or briskly rubbing his arms while he waits for the kettle to boil and he thinks nobody else is around. Not in the slightest.

It’s below zero on the day in December when the central heating finally gives up the ghost. Even Martin can feel the chill in the Archives this morning, keeps his hoodie zipped up all the way even when he runs into Jon in the kitchenette. Jon looks miserably cold, his shoulders hunched and his movements stiff as he makes his tea.

“Morning, Jon,” Martin says cheerfully. “Bit nippy, isn’t it?”

“Just a bit,” says Jon sardonically. Somewhere overhead, there’s a metallic clanking as the heating system starts up.

“Finally,” Jon mutters, casting his eyes upward. The pipes creak and clank some more, and there’s an odd whirring sound that Martin’s fairly sure isn’t normal, and then a long, descending groan into silence.

“Oh,” says Martin. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Bloody hell,” says Jon, and storms off to his office. A while later, he sends an email to inform them all that he’s spoken to Elias and the heating is out for the whole building, and that they should all feel free to work from home for the rest of the day if they choose. Sasha and Tim waste no time packing up, but Martin lingers, agonizing over which notes and references he should take with him. He’s never before had a job where working from home was an option, and he isn’t Tim or Sasha, isn’t someone Jon trusts and actually wanted to work with. Martin needs to make sure he gets it right.

At last he thinks he has everything he needs, but still Martin is hesitating, fiddling with the strap of his satchel. Maybe he should just check in with Jon before he leaves, make sure there isn’t anything else he needs to do. Make sure Jon knows I’m going to be working today, not just skiving off.

The door to Jon’s office is standing ajar; Martin taps on it, and pokes his head in without waiting for a response.

Jon looks up as he walks in, his expression startled. He is wearing a jumper. A chunky knit jumper in a warm maroon color, with a Christmas tree and several reindeer on the front. One of the reindeer has a red bobble for a nose. The jumper is oversized, the ends of the sleeves falling past Jon’s wrists.

It’s...incredibly cute, which is not a term that Martin ever expected to associate with his arsehole boss. Attractive, in a severe, unattainable way, sure, but not cute. Yet somehow, here they are.

“Ah, Martin,” Jon says, looking flustered. “I, uh, I thought you’d left with the others?”

“I was—I just wanted to check in with you first, make sure you didn’t need anything. You should head home too, it’s freezing in here.”

“I—I’m perfectly fine.” Jon plucks at the front of the jumper, looking embarrassed. “This is, ah, I bought this for the Institute Christmas party, but it’s surprisingly warm—and quite comfortable.”

“Oh, that’s, uh, that’s not part of your usual wardrobe then?” Martin hazards a chuckle, and to his relief, Jon huffs an amused breath. He raises a hand to adjust his glasses, but his sleeve gets in the way; he pushes both sleeves up to the elbows, and oh no, that’s even cuter.

“No, not—not usually,” he says. Martin frowns, suddenly remembering.

“You didn’t wear it at the party last week, though?”

“No, it’s—it was from the previous year, when I was in Research. It-it didn’t seem appropriate this year, being in a management role. Fortunately I still had it in a box, though I, uh, I didn’t really expect anyone to see me in it.”

Martin feels a sudden pang of something that might be sympathy. He understands how it feels, the desperate pressure to be professional, to be taken seriously, the constant second guessing of what you’re doing, whether you’re giving away something you shouldn’t. It’s hardly the same, of course: Jon’s not likely to be fired for wearing a silly jumper. But...Martin gets it.

“Actually,” he lies, “I, uh, I have to meet with Sophie up in the library later, so I’m around for the day. I was just going to go out and pick up some early lunch. Thought I’d see if you want anything?”

“Oh, ah, where are you going?” Jon asks tentatively, looking surprised at the offer.

“I was thinking of that cafe just around the corner—maybe get some soup and a sandwich?”

“That would be...very nice, actually. If you’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I did,” says Martin, and takes the ten pound note Jon offers him.

“Thank you, Martin,” says Jon, and it’s the probably the most sincere thing Martin’s ever heard him say. He finds himself smiling without meaning to.

“Not a problem.”

It’s too early for lunch, really, but Martin knows Jon never eats breakfast and he missed it himself this morning. He gets two portions of steaming tomato and basil soup and toasted cheese sandwiches from the cafe, and when he gets back, Jon’s found a small space heater to plug in, so his office is marginally warmer than the rest of the Archives. They sit on opposite sides of Jon’s desk to eat, talking about the case that Martin’s working on. It’s the first time Martin’s actually had the chance to properly discuss a case, rather than stumbling through his report while Jon watches expectantly; Jon listens, and asks questions, and even offers some helpful suggestions for Martin’s follow up. It’s...oddly nice.

(Jon also continues to look unreasonably cute in his oversized Christmas jumper, but Martin carefully ignores that.)

The heating gets fixed by early afternoon, and the Archives warm up to the point where Martin can unzip his hoodie. When he drops off his finished case report to Jon’s office, Jon is back in his shirt and jacket, the maroon jumper packed away out of sight. He looks perfectly staid and professional once again. I saw you looking cute, though, Martin thinks, and then tries to pretend he didn’t; he is not going down that route.

Jon glances up when Martin comes in, taking in the “Marvin the Martian” t-shirt that’s now visible beneath his hoodie. Instead of a disapproving scowl, however, he gives a small, hesitant smile.

“Thank you, Martin,” he says as he takes the report, and something flutters warm in Martin’s chest.

Oh no, he thinks.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartinweek2021 #jonmartin #my fic

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shotorozu · 3 years

Note

OKOK I WAS READING THESE HQ THREADS THEN I SAW IT ON TIKTOK (IF THAT MAKES SENSE) Basically you ask ur bf for these feminine products that don’t exist (ex: coochie cleaner 3000) IM SORRY LMFAOO I WAS WONDERING IF U CAN DO BAKUGOU,SHINSO AND A CHARACTER OF UR CHOICE,HERES THE TT DONT MIND MY PROFILE THAT WILL MOST LIKELY SHOW UP IF U COPY N PASTE THE LINK https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMe6U22uM/

getting non-existent feminine products

(tiktok prank)

character(s) : amajiki tamaki, bakugou katsuki, shinsou hitoshi (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, but they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : crack, fluff (x reader)

note(s) : i choose tamaki because i’ve been lacking with him lately but NWNDNWKX please this trend is so funny 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

amajiki tamaki

the fact that he even has to get you feminine products was enough to make him blush

yeah, even though he had to get you feminine products in the past— he’s still quite shy about getting them in the grocery store (it’s the stares, not the concept)

WHAT MORE WHEN YOU DECIDED TO PRANK HIM?? poor tamaki

“tamaki, could you buy me more feminine products?” and he stops in his tracks, and a blush spreads on his cheeks “s-sure. what do you want me to get?”

“cooch pouch version 2.”

he blinks, and it looks like he has to pass out, “c-come again?”

“cooch pouch version 2. it’s in purple and pink packaging, tama!” the fact that you’re not even the slightest bit of embarrassed, makes him shake.

“okay, bunny. just stay here.” he sighs, and gets out of the car— and that’s when tamaki set off to get you ‘cooch pouch version 2’

he was looking around the feminine product isle, and he was literally about to ditch everything, run back to the car and cry himself to sleep, when he couldn’t find ‘cooch pouch version 2’

“may i help you, sir?” an employee finally decides to offer their services, when they noticed that tamaki was stuck in the isle for quite sometime.

okay tamaki. you’re a part of UA’s big three. there’s no need to be nervous because of this. he reassured himself first, before asking “d-do you have c-cooch pouch version 2?”

the employee blinks, “uh. cooch pouch version 2?” they ask again, and tamaki— very reluctantly, nods.

the walk back to the car felt shameful. “so? did you find it?” you discreetly film his reaction, and he shakes his head, absolutely mortified

“they,, didn’t have it.” tamaki whispers, a very aggressive blush on his face was evident. “i’m so sorry, bunny. they were nice, and i really tried—”

you just laugh. “no, it’s okay tamaki. you don’t have to look anymore.” you reassure him, patting him on the shoulder

you had to reassure him on your way back home 💀 he was just so mortified. you just agree to yourself that you’re never going to do that again

but on the brighter side, the tiktok did well, gathering 800k likes and 2.5M views. the comments were laughing at him, but they also felt REALLY bad

bakugou katsuki

katsuki’s already your errand boy, when it came to feminine products. he’s practically desensitized to it. even though he acts like he’s so annoyed by it

he’s so confused when he hears ‘super jumbo tampon deluxe; ribboned edition.’ and he’d like to say that he isn’t judging you

but he is, and it’s hard. “the hell’s that?? what are you even putting down there??” and you chuckle at his reaction

“don’t tell me you’re wussing out— on feminine products,” you tease, and he knows that. but he still rolls his eyes

“shut up. i’ll go get them, you’ll see.” he claims, opening the car door and marching off the to store

when he enters the feminine products section, he practically scans every single row for the packaging that has super jumbo tampon deluxe; ribboned edition on it’s front

but then there’s none. so then, that’s when his ruby red irises scan again, and again.

and of course, katsuki radiates intimidating energy— so no one dared on asking him what he was looking for especially in the feminine products section

katsuki— wanting to find the product, hesitates on asking for help, but he does anyway.

the employees blink, but they don’t want to question his motives— the expression on his face was enough to make them search the entire isle

afterwards, katsuki angrily marches back to the car— a slight blush showcased on his cheeks, most likely coming from shame

“so?” you have your phone in one hand, but it’s not very obvious that you’re filming him. “did you get it?”

“you.” he opens the car door, and slides right in, “you. humiliated. me.”

you laugh at his expression, “so i’m guessing that’s a no?”

“DUMBASS, SUPER JUMBO TAMPON DELUXE; RIBBONED EDITION DOESN’T EVEN EXIST. I LOOKED LIKE A FOOL.” he exclaims, irritated and humiliated by the entire encounter

and when you revealed that it was a prank, he,, wasn’t very pleased.

katsuki takes away your kissing privileges, and he’s in a rather silent mood for the rest of the day— but he says he’ll forget about it, if you’ll cook him dinner

you posted the tiktok after you got home, and everyone just assumed you passed away in the hands of your boyfriend 💀 at least you’re tiktok famous now

shinsou hitoshi

again, also very desensitized to the idea of getting you feminine products— since, it’s not something that you can CONTROL freely

and he’s not in the right place to judge you anyway

he won’t make a big deal out of it, hitoshi will just get your products, and then camouflage it with things from the snack isle

so, hitoshi’s questioning you— when you asked him to buy ‘urethra padding cleanser’ since he’s also familiar with the feminine products isle

he wasn’t aware on what THAT even was, it’s pretty obvious— due to the fact that his eyes were wide like saucers.

“kitten, do you need to go to the doctor?” he asks— he’s half joking, but he’s also half serious because wtf is a urethra padding cleanser??

“no,” you shake your head, “you said you wouldn’t judge.” you fein being bashful, and this seems enough to trick him

“right, sorry kitten. it’s just very concerning that you’d need something like that”

you blink, and he raises his hands up in defeat “i’ll,, try to find it.” even though he isn’t very convinced that he’d find it

he enters the isle, and he scans every single row— and to no one’s surprise, he can’t find it

hitoshi decides to look around again, and when he turns around— there’s a clerk there, smiling at him, and also at his assistance

“hello! do you need help in finding something?”

thank you, store employee. he’s glad he doesn’t have to ask “i,, guess you could say that. uh, does this store have a ‘urethra padding cleanser’?”

the store clerk looks at him like he’s gone mad. “uh,” they look through the isle once again, “i’ll be right back, we’ll need some assistance.”

it doesn’t take long for him to realize that ‘urethra padding cleanser’ doesn’t. even. exist.

he decides that it’s probably best for him to buy some snacks— because leaving the store empty handed feels weird to him.

the tall man apologizes to the staff as he leaves, and the walk back to the car is basically one long walk of shame

“it doesn’t exist,” hitoshi’s quick to say, placing the snacks in your lap— “urethra padding cleanser doesn’t exist. i should’ve trusted my gut.”

you snicker, and you’re glad that you’re filming his reaction— because the look on his face is just priceless. “did you ask for help?”

“i did, actually. they looked at me like i was on some weird shit,” he turns his head, and he’s now facing you “i’m never doing that again.” even though he actually goes back your next cycle, and gets you everything

when you finished recording the tiktok— and also when you revealed that it was all a prank, hitoshi looks SO done

“who would’ve guessed,” he sighs, laying his head on your shoulder “you got there, Y/N. i’ll give you that.” and you’re lowkey lucky that he loves you a lot to not even care 💀

you upload the tiktok in the following hours, and it does great. the comments were mostly laughing at his reaction at the end and they were also sympathetic for him

it somehow managed to get to kaminari’s fyp— considering that he sent you a video of him laughing hysterically the tiktok 🗿

needless to say, hitoshi will ask you if it IS a real product, the next time you make him buy products with,, weird and questionable names

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

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almighty-jinki · 2 years

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Okay! Now that I’ve seen the DICE MV at least ten times now, it’s time for the analysis absolutely nobody asked for because my focus in school was Aesthetics and I love analyzing art! Here we go!

So, first of all I want to thank Jinki for pointing out in his Insta live the similarities between the DICE and MTTM MVs, that’s done some of my work for me and it’s super cool to know that those similarities were intentional! Obviously there’s the similarities between the strange radioactive-looking drinks (though I’m not going to say it’s EXACTLY the same beverage, the one from DICE appears a bit more green and slime-like, while in MTTM it was more blue and liquid-y. BUT, very cool!); as well as both MVs having a surreal, dream-like quality with slight horror elements.

I think where the tone diverges though is that in MTTM, SHINee is in on the conceit of the video. They’re in the middle of it all as active participants, interacting with the other people in the video and taking part in everything that’s going on around them. In DICE, Jinki stumbles through the hotel as a bewildered observer that has come in off the street - presumably from a normal world where the things happening in the hotel aren’t everyday occurrences. He’s searching for Lemon Lady (a name that I find really adorable and think is very cute that all of Shawol has just accepted as the character’s name), yes; but he isn’t actively participating in the weird things going on around him. They’re more like obstacles in his search for her than things happening to him. Whereas in MTTM the members are consuming the drink, DICE!Jinki never touches it at all.

Of course the point of surrealist art is that you aren’t really supposed to be able to analyze it for deeper meaning, it’s just supposed to make you go, “ah! So weird! Strange! This is mildly unsettling but very cool to look at!” But one of my first peer-reviewed journal pieces was an analysis of a Salvador Dali film, so I’m gonna analyze it for meaning anyway: because the cool thing about art is that you can find personal meaning in pretty much anything if you want to c: (Emphasis on personal meaning, if anyone else interpreted it differently please leave it in the notes or replies because I’d love it talk about it!)

So! In the opening shot, Jinki is big vibin’ out on the street in front of the hotel, just absolutely chomping on a slice of cake with his bare hands (king behavior, to be sure). He’s in a bathrobe and slippers; and even though he somehow manages to make them look like extremely fashionable streetwear, this communicates that his character is a laid-back, comfortable person with a penchant for indulging himself in the sweeter side of life. Him eating very messily with his hands, frosting smeared on his face, shows that he dives right in to these indulgences with a lot of enthusiasm; not really concerned with the mess it will make but enjoying it to the fullest in the moment.

He’s holding in his other hand a six-sided die with the numbers 5 and 6 facing outward, in what I can only assume is a very sweet nod to SHINee and Shawol (as he’s recently stated he picked 6 tracks for the album because of the 6 sides of a die, and SHINee 5 + Shawol = 6).

Then Lemon Lady (mybeloved) enters the picture, seen through a window with her hand pressed to the glass, reaching for the outside world and Jinki himself. He’s immediately smitten (and honestly his facial acting in this part and throughout the entire MV is so expressive, Lee Jinki acting KING). In the first shot, she is alone; but then one of the hotel denizens quickly comes to take her away. Jinki is confused, then clenches his fist around the dice and drops the slice of cake to the pavement. Staying true to the nature of his character and the theme of DICE, he forgets all about what he was originally doing when faced with the sweetness of this new love, and jumps headfirst into the new and strange world of the hotel without a second thought. He demonstrates his willingness to roll the metaphorical (and in this case physical) dice and take this chance with absolutely no hesitation.

Upon entering the hotel, he’s noticed by the staff but isn’t stopped as he runs down the hall to get to the pool. He doesn’t even really react to their strangeness in his haste to find Lemon Lady, acting with very single-minded intent. When he gets to the pool and sees the dummy in the water he looks relieved that the doll is a fake, presumably because it means the real Lemon Lady is alright. Then he grows very serious, staring into the pool and seems to come to the decision that he really will go all in on this new love. Jinki said (I believe in the press conference) that the die in the video is magical, with the power to transform. To me, this reads as: when he tosses the dice and both his outfit and the scene changes, he’s taking the chance and changing/discovering an aspect of himself in order to be better equipped to dive further into this love.

Bringing me to the point that the hotel itself symbolizes the early stages of falling in love, and discovering more about yourself in the process. Each time Jinki throws the dice up, he’s transformed into an aspect of himself that will allow him deeper access into the hotel. First, the very princely blue suit in the ballroom, which is full of hotel residents dressed similarly. He moves differently to how he did when he first came onto the hotel. No longer careening frantically down the halls with single-minded determination; he moves more cautiously, hands clasped politely but nervously in front of him, searching the ballroom guests for Lemon Lady but not finding her. He’s past the stage of love where he’s decided to jump headlong into it, and now he has to be more careful and measured in his approach.

He checks the kitchen and the staff all turn to stare at him as they cut into lemons, which begin to - concerningly - bleed. This comes across as symbolism of a ‘bleeding heart.’ More specifically, Lemon Lady’s heart. In the ballroom, we saw the hotel residents eating nothing but lemons. She’s giving away parts of herself to sustain others, which is solidified later on when the acidic drink we saw being extracted from the lemons is served at a party for hotel residents. This is why I think it’s important that we never see Jinki himself consuming either the lemons or the drink in the entire MV. He isn’t asking her to sustain him, or to give up parts of herself to him. He’s simply looking to meet her where she is.

As the bellhop, he’s allowed even further access into the hotel, with it’s residents not seeming to notice him much. He’s smiling as he wheels the baggage cart down the hallway. He’s gotten more comfortable in the love he feels, started to relax a bit. At the end of the hall, he sees a bride and groom in red cutting a wedding cake with a chainsaw and looks on as if stunned, then is immediately confronted with a host of chainsaw-wielding hotel residents which chase him back down the hall as the lighting changes. Though he allowed himself to relax into the new feeling of love for a moment; when confronted with the jarring and contrary imagery of a wedding cake (weddings being a symbol of happy, pure, and true love) being cut so violently, he has the sudden realization that this love that he dived into so abruptly could end very badly. He initially runs away from the manifestation of that realization, but still doesn’t give up on finding Lemon Lady.

The last time he throws up the die, it changes him into the outfit from the choreography, in which he’s dancing with residents of the hotel. This is the only time we see him actively participating with them, instead of avoiding them. He’s accepted all the obstacles this new love of his may face, and the lyrics reflect that “the game was already planned//I never had a chance//as you already know.” Instead of avoiding the helpless feeling of love, he accepts it and places all of the potential of the relationship into Lemon Lady’s hands; and we see her face down the residents of the hotel which have been using her to sustain themselves, taking a stand in order to be free of them and finally meet Jinki as her own person. A hotel resident’s hand trembles as it holds another die but doesn’t throw it, unable to take the chance of loving her as Jinki has multiple times, rather than just using her. Unable to potentially risk themselves to keep her in the hotel.

This takes us into the bridge, where Jinki enters the room and finds a broken heel on the table. The lyrics in this part are notable, “You’re going away as if you’re close//set me on fire, then disappear//the game goes on and on//only you can end this game.” He’s so close to finding her, but if feels as though she’s pulling away. She’s sparked a powerful love (a fire) in him and he’s in too deep to back out of it, but his uncertainty from before has returned because he cannot tell what she’s thinking.

It’s reminiscent of the moments before a confession or a proposal; when there is no going back, but you’re about to put your entire heart into someone else’s hands and you begin to doubt that it will go well. Or when your partner is dealing with something in their mind and they just aren’t ready to talk to you about it, so you simply have to wait and hope that everything is okay. Lemon Lady is separating herself from the people who have been taking advantage of her, but Jinki doesn’t know this; so all he can do is reflect on everything that got him to this point - as the MV cycles through all his different transformations - and decide to keep going.

He takes her heel with him. A part of her that he intends to return instead of use, even though it’s broken. He’s knocked to the ground as the elevator doors open, the die that he’s kept in his hand the entire time falling to the ground as Lemon Lady steps out of the elevator with her own die in her hand. She drops the heel that’s not broken, going barefoot in a symbol of her newfound freedom. Jinki stares up at her in shock and awe (and honestly, mood), having finally found her and finding that she, too, has been changed by love. Whereas earlier in the MV her expression was blank, longing, now she’s taken agency over her own situation and smiles warmly down at him. She leans down to take his hand, meeting in the middle and lifting him up; and he snatches his own die off the floor as she leads him back through the hotel. They both finally leave the hotel and look over at each other, grinning; and the die is thrown one final time as they decide to take a chance on their love, together.

Like I said, the point of surrealism isn’t to be analyzed, so anyone who reads this and says, “it really isn’t that deep” is completely valid. The MV is fun and colorful and aesthetically stunning even without any deeper meaning behind it; but this kind of thing is what I studied for and really enjoyable to me, and I thought that if any surrealist piece of art deserves to be looked at a bit deeper, it’s something that Jinki worked so hard on and put his heart and soul into. Let me know if you agree, or disagree with anything I said! Or if you want to talk about what you interpreted the story of the MV as, or just want to talk about what you particularly like about it! I’m super excited for this comeback and I would love to talk about it more in depth c:

If you made it to the end, thank you so much for reading! Let’s all give Jinki lots of love and support in this new chapter, and let’s all be happy and healthy together!~

#SHINee #ONEW DICE #Onew #Lee jinki #MV analysis #video analysis #art analysis #DICE MV #DICE

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curlynerd · 3 years

Text

What He Wants

Happy gift posting day for @starrynightdeancas gift exchange! My gift recipient is @bipridedean! She requested a Destiel, canon-adjacent fic, so here it is! I hope you like it! <3

Word Count: 2.6K Rating: G Summary: 5 times Dean said "I do" and 1 time he didn’t. Notes: Post canon, fix-it fic, oneshot, love confessions, Destiel wedding