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pink-tea · 11 months

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Request for sub!ot5 wearing a corset in bed like🤌😵😵🫠🫠💘✨

i have no idea why i'd never thought of this before? it was a little hard since i've never had experience with corsets in bed (i need to change that...), but i tried my best !!

☆minors dni

☆ rating: smut

☆ tags: dom! reader, sub! txt, lingerie, corset, for the sake of my imagination txt will be wearing full sets of corset lingerie and not just a corset, feminization (wearing panties and linerie, use of pet names such "pretty girl" and "doll"), dollification?? not really (yeonjun and taehyun), panty use for soobin (panties in his mouth!! i forgot the word!! is there a word??!!!?), pegging if interpreted for beomgyu, pegging if interpreted for hueningkai

soobin

ღ i love soobin in red

ღ soobin who got the idea when a victoria's secret ad popped up on a video he was watching, making him pause at the sight of a model posing in a sexy black corset

ღ at first he's distracted by just how pretty it is, the lace and the way it hugs the model's body making him gape

ღ soobin knows he wants to work on his shyness, it's something he's been wanting to improve further, but lately he's been getting more brave with your praise and his growing self esteem

ღ fingers twitching before he finally thinks "fuck it" to himself, searching the internet for a pretty corset for him to wear

ღ he settles on a pretty red one, one that laces up in the front and splits off into a garter belt at the bottom, clipping onto red fishnet tights that come with the purchase

ღ the red fabric of the lace rose detailed thong that comes with it leaves little to the imagination

ღ soobin stares, worrying about how he's going to make sure his dick doesn't slip out before you can even get to touch him

ღ still, he buys it, and when it finally comes in he's ecstatic

ღ lays himself out all pretty on the bed for you, letting you run your hands and dip your fingers into the flimsy material of his fishnets

ღ he clings onto you when you have him pinned down onto the bed, going crazy because you're loosening the lacing on the front of his corset way too slow :(

ღ gasps and cries when you lick his bulge through his lace panties, the red already darkened with how much precum soobin is leaking

ღ he's so happy that he bought the corset lingerie when you push the red fabric to the side, going down on him as your hands take to pinching and bruising the flesh of his thighs that leak out the fishnets

ღ fucking him missionary or riding him, using the untied laces of his corset to grip on and force his hips higher into yours <33

ღ loves it when you call him pretty or gorgeous cause he feels pretty

ღ pull out your phone and take a picture of him, keeping the image of soobin in a slutty red corset, untied and absolutely ruined as your fingers fuck his mouth engraved in your mind and camera roll <3

ღ unclipping the garter belt, sliding off his pretty panties, wet with your saliva and his precum

ღ "hold these for me?" you ask, making soobin's eyes widen and his dick twitch

ღ always so ready to be lightly degraded yet praised at the same time, tears already starting to roll down his cheeks as you coo and praise him for how cute he looks with his mouth stuffed full of red lace <3

ღ "say cheese!" you grin, looking at the way soobin's eyes look so glossy and doe eyed in your camera lense, bunny lips too full to smile properly </3

yeonjun

ღ yeonjun in a dark blue corset top, the clothing originally part of an actual outfit he was trying out

ღ coming home to yeonjun staring and looking at different angles of himself in the mirror

ღ his makeup and hair is done, the blue corset clinging to his waist and giving him such a pretty silhouette as he pairs it with a short black skirt

ღ the corset doesn't reach past his belly button, giving a cropped look with the low cut fabric of the skirt

ღ he has the decency to copy the surprised look you have when you come into your shared bedroom, cheeks flushing pink when he finds you staring at his reflection in the mirror

ღ "you look nice," you hum, casual

ღ "thanks," he responds, fingers subconsciously finding themselves rubbing the lace at the bottom of his corset top

ღ and then when he blinks he's suddenly staring up at the ceiling, back cushioned by your mattress as you suck him off sweetly, calvin klein underwear long forgotten on the floor

ღ he's lifting his skirt up for you, knuckles white and gripping onto the fabric for dear life because you made it a rule that he can't touch you :(

ღ you switch to touching him instead, knowing that yeonjun won't last for long if you keep sucking him off

ღ plus, you wanna see him properly in his pretty little corset <3

ღ one of his legs is propped on your shoulder, ankle digging into your back while his other leg twitches occasionally at the slow pace that you're jerking him off

ღ "g-go faster, please?" he pleads, voice trailing off into a confused tilt cause he can't remember if you gave him permission to speak or not

ღ "you want me to go faster?" you ask teasingly, rushing the motions on his dick as the precum and the saliva from you making yeonjun lick your palm earlier mix

ღ "a-ah, wait!" yeonjun cries, hips thrusting upwards at the stimulation

ღ "i don't want my corset to get dirty," he whines, lips jutting up to a pout when you don't slow down your pace at his plea

ღ "hmm," you think, grin forming on your lips, "not even if i offer to lick it clean for you, pretty girl?"

ღ the thought of your tongue running up his stomach and onto the satin of his dark blue corset, cleaning him up along the way, is just too much for yeonjun's imagination :(

ღ with a few more twists of your wrist he's spilling onto his stomach and corset, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as little gasps "ah, ah!" fall from his lips and you keep true to your promise of licking his cum off him <3

beomgyu

ღ beomgyu, who like soobin, finally built up the courage to buy a corset off the internet

ღ he buys a black set of corset lingerie, a piece with a little lace skirt that flares out and a pair of solid black underwear

ღ he adds his own sheer black stockings to the mix, decorated with a little black ribbon each to match the one right in between the bust of the corset

ღ his tits don't fill out the cups of his lingerie when tries it on, but he keeps it like that, liking the way his nipples poke against the lace heart pattern

ღ when you come home from work, tired and missing your boyfriend, you're pleasantly surprised with the sight of him on the bed, sitting on his knees as the small skirt sits on top of his thighs

ღ he smiles brightly, giggling at your surprised expression

ღ "like it?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows even though he can tell you're literally 4 seconds away from jumping his bones

ღ "a lot," you respond, rushed in your attempts to get out of your pants

ღ the prep is rushed at best, lube coating your fingers and you wipe them off on the bed as you slide into beomgyu

ღ you don't even bother to go slow, knowing that your boyfriend wants the stimulation and dirty talk that comes with loving him fast and hard </3

ღ fucking into him, slipping your fingers into the little cross section in the front of the corset to act as extra leverage as you thrust into him

ღ "ah, fuck—shit, fuck," the profanities spill out of beomgyu as you pound into him, stocking-clad legs spread for you like a whore as your free hand digs into his thigh

ღ "bought this just for me, gyu?" you ask, suddenly snapping beomgyu out of whatever haze he was lost in to nod

ღ "thought—hah!—thought you'd like it," he forces out with a lopsided smile, one of his hands reaching up to push back the hair that sticks to your forehead

ღ you smile at the action, returning the favor and leaning down to press a kiss to your boyfriend's lips

ღ later, beomgyu will whine loudly and complain about the purple finger marks on his thighs, although right now in the moment his brain is only registering the pleasure of the pain

ღ he's bratty and he's a little hypocritical at times, but he loves you, wants to be yours to call pretty, wants to be yours to love and praise :(

ღ "i like it a lot," you admit fondly, pressing another kiss just in time to swallow the low pitched scream/moan that comes with beomgyu's orgasm as you hit the place that makes his head spin

taehyun

ღ taehyun who finds himself stuffed in a traditional, pink corset after visiting yeonjun

ღ taehyun who is also sent home in said corset, pouty and just a little angry because yeonjun refused to untie the lacings after doing them for him

ღ he knows that his friend is trying to get him laid, but seriously these things are hard to breathe in! his tits are suffocating

ღ taehyun who’s relieved to see you already home before freezing as you stare at his pink corset, not at all hidden by the unzipped hoodie he currently had on

ღ “babe please I just want it off.”

ღ “no yeah, yeah I can help with that!”

ღ taehyun who is now gasping and shuddering in your lap as the two of you sit on your mattress, face flushed almost as pink as the satin he has on

ღ back pressed against your chest as you sit back on the headboard, his legs are hooked over yours so that you can keep his thighs spread while you jerk him off with one hand <3

ღ your other hand is slowly untying the lacing on his corset, taking your sweet time as the garment loosens

ღ “this is a little difficult,” you hum, smiling at the strangled moan taehyun lets out when you thumb his slit

ღ "i-if it was easy, I would've done it myself," your boyfriend tells you, nails leaving a sting as they dig into the flesh of your thigh

ღ "yeah, i guess you would have," you respond absentmindedly, tugging at the lace a little too harshly and pulling taehyun closer to you

ღ "then again, it seems a little preplanned," you comment, "coming home to me dressed up in a corset, that is."

ღ "yeonjun-hyung, put it on me," he admits, yelping when you suddenly squeeze the base of his dick, pressing a small kiss to the back of his neck

ღ "don't say other people's names when i'm right here, pretty," you scold lightly, relishing in the groan you get when you bite the flesh you had just finished kissing, resuming the motions of your fist as well

ღ "s-sorry," taehyun apologizes, legs twitching against yours as they fight to close

ღ "it's fine," you forgive quickly, watching the way taehyun's body reacts as you continue to undress him

ღ suddenly abandoning both your current tasks, you lean up, hands going up to cup at taehyun's cleavage, pushed up by the corset

ღ "maybe next time you'll let me dress you up too," you offer, sitting up straight to kiss and lightly suck a hickey into the side of taehyun's neck

ღ he sighs at the affection, leaning his head back just a bit to give you better access

ღ "what, like a present?" taehyun asks, hissing when you remove one of your hands to teasingly roll your palm around his leaking tip

ღ "like a doll, just for me to play with," you correct, sliding your other hand down the loosened corset to play with tae's chest and nipple, feeling him flinch under your touch from the sensitivity <3

hueningkai

ღ hueningkai who doesn't think of wearing a corset until the stylists put him in a black suit, slacks, and dress shoes with only a white underbust corset to add color contrast

ღ however, the staff thinks it's too slutty risky, putting hueningkai into another outfit

ღ they don't notice the way he sneaks off set with the previous outfit tucked away into his backpack—corset included—after the shoot is over

ღ hueningkai who originally wants the corset to be a surprise

ღ dressed in his all black outfit, he’s struggling to tie the lacing on the back

ღ he ends up very frustrated, close to tears when he hears the front door to your shared apartment open

ღ wants to cry so bad because this was supposed to be a gift for you and he ruined it :(

ღ you walk into your bedroom, pausing when you see hueningkai sitting on the bed, head hung low as the white corset sits in his lap

ღ you’re not sure what the garment is, more focused on your boyfriend as you go over to him

ღ holding his face in your hands, kissing away the tears that prick at the corners of his eyes cause you know he doesn’t like to cry

ღ “what’s wrong?” you ask, voice just barely above the whisper as hyuka glares at the floor

ღ “wanted to surprise you,” he starts sulkily, lightly tossing the corset in his hands

ღ “couldn’t lace up the back, ruined everything,” he finishes, now rubbing and fidgeting with the lace ends in a way you assume is to distract himself

ღ it finally clicks in your head that he’s holding an underbust corset in his hands, a surprise, and your heart swells at the fact

ღ “i’ll tie it for you,” you offer, hueningkai’s eyes finally lifting up to meet yours

ღ the rest of your night goes on with you tying up hueningkai’s corset for him, albeit a bit slowly

ღ hueningkai, reduced to nothing but his black button up and the unfinished corset, sits on your lap reverse cowgirl style

ღ trying his best not to bounce on your cock/strap like you told him to, wants to cockwarm you and be obedient as you help him out, but he’s finding it to be very difficult :(

ღ tugging on the white laces when you feel hueningkai start to roll his hips down into yours, making him whine as the action makes his back arch

ღ “behave,” you scold, glad that the position doesn’t let kai flash his puppy eyes at you

ღ “you’re going slow on purpose!” he whines, letting out a strangled grunt when the next tug tightens the corset around his waist

ღ “ungrateful,” you mutter, feeling your pretty angel shudder on top of you when you thrust your hips up just enough to tease

#sub txt #dom reader #txt smut #sub idol #sub soobin #txt x reader #sub taehyun #sub beomgyu #sub hueningkai #sub yeonjun #sub choi beomgyu #sub choi soobin #sub kang taehyun #sub choi yeonjun

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delopsia · 4 months

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Silver & Gold | Bob x Reader x Rhett

Word Count: 7,200 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, Bob's in deep internal debate, mentions of wedding planning, setting up a Christmas tree (no religious themes included, we're doing it for the ✨vibes✨), domestic fluff, protective Rhett if you squint, usage of a ribbon for light bondage purposes, cunnilingus, hand jobs, and thigh fucking. Brief Summary: Bob's having a crisis over whether he wants a silver or gold wedding ring. All you and Rhett want to do is set up the new Christmas tree. Shenanigans on the couch involving a ribbon ensue.

There goes that damn snowman again. Moving across the screen in all of its vintage, stop-motion glory, strumming his banjo, singing that infuriating song about silver and gold. Like it's so simple. Like you just get to up and have both. All willy-nilly, fully embracing the concept of childish indecision, ignoring the constraints of society, and normalization of picking only one.

...or maybe Bobby has simply fallen into the curse of overthinking.

It shouldn't be that hard. Silver or gold? It's simple until he's once again struck with the fact that he will wear this ring for the rest of his life. He had such an easy time picking metals for you and Rhett; he knew your favorites inside and out.

So why can't he make a decision for himself, the person he should arguably know the best?

"You're lookin' at that phone awful hard," Rhett grumbles from his left. Snug against the naked mattress, jeans clinging to his hips, tattered cowboy hat resting atop his belly. An offhandedly placed thing that both adds to his rugged, cowboy glory and conceals the softness he's acquired, hard muscle a little squishier now. Thicker.

Healthier.

"Like you haven't had your nose in that notebook all month," there's a pop in Bob's neck as he tilts his head, muscle, and bone protesting movement after being still for so long. "What are you working on, anyhow?"

Rhett's mouth closes, teeth audibly clattering together. Soft blue eyes darting up to the ceiling, "It's nothin'."

Those furrowed eyebrows suggest otherwise, but in the back of his mind, Bobby supposes he'll leave it there. Rhett'll talk about it when he's ready. It doesn't alleviate the genuine curiosity that has been brewing ever since that notebook appeared last month, but alas.

Door hinges squeal. Bare feet padding across the floor, a bundle of sheets concealing the face of the third person in the room. But he recognizes those arms as well as he does the ring on that dainty little finger—perfection, in your favorite metal and all.

"I thought one of you was gonna fix the door?" You chirp, dropping the sheets onto the bed in an unceremonious heap. Pillow cases and a stowaway face cloth spilling out, still warm from the dryer.

Rhett's eyes dart to meet with Bob's. Who's plan was that, anyway?

"I'll take a look at it in a minute," Bob's thumb blindly feels its way to the power button of his phone. Turning the screen off before he can be caught staring at rings for the umpteenth time this week.

But even though he's no longer staring mindlessly at his phone, those little rings sit in the forefront of his mind. Burned into his eyes, as he helps pull the sheets onto the bed. Silver and gold, and a make-believe third option, rose gold. All of them menacing with their ridiculously high numbers; within a reasonable price range, but still strange to think about. That much money for a uniquely shaped hunk of metal.

"Bobby."

Whatever happened to simpler traditions? A fancy rock would do him much nicer. Free of their metal confines and special in their own natural way, unhindered by the standards of man and artificially constructed value. Blue lace agate would quite suit him, or a nice geode, picked out with the vague guide of what felt right, then split into three.

"Bob?"

What ever happened to simplicity? Marriage sounded awfully simple as a child. Why couldn't it have stayed that way? Who can even settle on just one flavor for cake, and who the hell decided that more than two flavors were too many? Why can't there be multiple small cakes that each suit them, rather than fighting to even out clashing styles? Why must there only be one big cake?

"Robert Benjamin Floyd!"

"What?" Lifting his head, not quite expecting to find you and Rhett staring back at him. Rhett's hand is still outstretched, offering up a corner of the comforter. "Oh."

"Thought we'd really lost ya this time," Rhett's chuckling, a softened tease that he's uttered three times today. A newly formed habit, triggered every time Bob's mind slips down the slippery slope of what-ifs.

Your eyes narrow a little suspiciously; always have been the one to catch on to his internal stresses before Rhett does, or anyone else, really. The voice in the back of his head openly wonders what triggers the alarm bells, if it's the spacing out in thought or some minute shift in his expression.

For a couple of hours, he's able to forget about the concept of wedding rings entirely. Preoccupied with tackling the task of fixing the squeaky doors that were supposed to have been repaired before the house was sold to the three of you. Jumping from that and straight to dinner, bustling about the kitchen, gingerly guiding Rhett's wary hands in a feeble attempt to teach him how to knead dough.

Then there are the dishes to be cleaned, flour that needs to be ruffled out of a cowboy's hair, and the movie you three agreed to watch under the assumption that someone else had one picked out. As it panned out, nobody had a single title lined up, and it fell back on Rhett's number one Christmas default.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

In fact, Bobby doesn't catch himself thinking about the rings for the entire night. Until two tiny rings clank against the bedside table as you and Rhett remove them for the night.

Will his ring sit on that table, too?

"You're thinking again," he doesn't remember when you got into bed, but you're right here next to him. Pawing at your nose with the side of your hand after an itch that seems to have been bugging you all afternoon.

The pains of getting dusty Christmas decor out.

"I'm always thinking," he murmurs, blindly reaching out to curl a hand around your cheek. A daunting task without his glasses. Can see just enough of your face to know where all of your important features lie, but the finer details have gone blurry. Left with no choice but to move based on the terrain of your body, roaming up the soft skin of your cheekbone and up the hill of your nose.

There's movement from behind his back. The weight of a cowboy settling down, throwing a heavy arm around Bobby's waist, as he squirms closer. "Ain't we s'posed to be always thinkin'?"

Your eyes roll so hard that Bob worries they'll get stuck in the back of your head. "Something like that."

Rhett hums, the soft whiskers of unshaven scruff tickling Bob's shoulder, his head perfectly snug in the cap between shoulder and neck. In the very place he will stay for the rest of the night until Bob inevitably pries himself free come morning.

For now, though, he's not going anywhere. Making it so, so easy for you to snuggle in, your legs tangling with his and Rhett's, just close enough to steal some of their body heat but not enough to melt. A comfort that has taken you months to perfect and only works when Bob's body is there to block Rhett's burning velcro hands.

But you do take the liberty of blindly stroking your cowboy's arm beneath the covers, soft ups and downs that trace an exposed vein until you're certain he's smiling.

Sleep comes early, but then again, it always does when all three of you are here. Free of life responsibilities and the incessant call of the Navy, determined to take your favorite backseater away. Dreams burn a little sweeter when the three of you are crammed up against each other, even with all the space granted by this oversized Alaskan king mattress.

You're caught between the edges of sleep when you feel Bobby's hand against your cheek. Gingerly stroking something free of your skin, an eyelash, you suppose. A movement that sealed with a soft kiss, like it'll keep anything else from disturbing you.

Rhett whines. Bob shifts. Audibly giving him a kiss, too. Always keeping things equal.

It feels like your eyes are only closed for a couple of seconds. One moment, Bob is sliding his arm over your waist, and the next, you're snug as a bug in his arms, squinting against a bright beam of light. Aren't quite sure what woke you, but you're more than content to sleep a little bit longer. Squirming closer, readjusting your head against the pillow.

Thump thump thump.

One eye opens.

Thump thump thump.

Is someone at the door?

You don't have a clue who it could be. Nobody mentioned coming over for a visit, and you're more than certain nobody would invite themselves over without asking first. Not after you've made it clear that this weekend is reserved for setting up the—

shit.

The Christmas tree is here.

Your feet hit the ground before you can even comprehend what you're doing. Stepping into the pajama shorts you left on the floor as you scurry out of the bedroom. A slow-motion race that you're hardly awake for, darting down the stairs, through the living room, and past the kitchen.

The front door opens so quickly that the delivery driver jumps. Caught halfway off of your porch, ready to head back to his truck and mark it to redeliver another day.

You can feel his eyes raking across your body as you sign the little box on his tablet, but you're quite frankly not awake enough to find the words to do something about it. Sleepily resting against the door frame as he begins to head back to his truck, chirping that he'll even carry the box into the house for you.

His smile drops before he's finished turning around.

Rhett.

Forearms crossed over his chest, a protective, looming shadow that settles up behind you. His palm bracing against the frame next to your head, scruff tickling as he leans in to press his lips to your cheek.

"I'm glad you heard 'em," he grumbles, voice still at that deliciously low tone, rough with sleep and unspoken perfection, "'cause I sure didn't."

"That's because you could sleep through the rapture," you're speaking through a yawn, halfway into leaning against him when the driver comes back around the corner, oversized tree box in tow.

He leaves it right on the doorstep.

Evidently, carrying boxes into the house is a courtesy reserved for the single-folk. Yet, you can't complain too much because now you get to watch Rhett's biceps bulge as he lifts the box. A sight that could damn near make you drool this early in the morning. It's almost unfortunate that he doesn't have to carry it further. Is it too late to request to move the tree upstairs?

The box hits the ground gently, right by Rhett's feet; you wonder if he's realized that he only has one sock on.

Based on how he's hardly got his eyes open, you're beginning to wonder if he's even awake. His jaw pops as he opens his mouth, "'Y reckon we should wake up Robby?"

"He'll wake up soon enough," though you're the only one speaking, you're fairly certain that both of you are sharing the same thought.

Bob's always been quiet, keeping to himself on most occasions, but the silence that's overtaken him as of late isn't the kind you've come to know and love. His eyes going unfocused when he thinks you're not paying attention, wandering off into his own sort of world. There are no rules defining when it may happen: in the grocery store, in the middle of a movie, hell, he's done it in the middle of a conversation.

Just like he did it last night, with making the bed.

Surely, it can't be second thoughts about this whole wedding thing. No, that wouldn't make sense; he's the one who proposed.

You'll have to worry about it some other time; him, his thoughts, and Rhett's curious notebook be damned, there's a Christmas tree that needs to be set up, fluffed, and decorated.

A very big tree. Ten feet sounds a lot smaller on the screen.

"We either get one too big," Rhett's eyes flick over to the tiny tree sitting on your left. Scrawny, hardly two and a half feet tall, and happens to be last year's lesson about reading the dimensions, "or too small."

Your head tilts up. Straining to get a look at the top, still crooked from its time spent crammed in the box. "Do we still have them ornaments in the garage?"

Rhett's sigh echoes. "We're 'bout to find out."

Locating the ornaments is the easiest part; they're still sitting in a neat stack on a shelf, stacks, and stacks of unopened bulbs and a box of garland—silver, gold, fake popcorn,, all tangled with the neverending red ribbon and faux pine that decorated the banister last year. It's a lot, but it felt like so much more when it was just a memory.

"Where did the silver come from?" You don't remember those making their way onto the list of ornament colors, but unless your eyes are playing tricks on you, those on the bottom right are certainly silver.

In an instant, Rhett's face drops. "Was I not s'posed to buy silver?"

"We were only doing red, pink and gold, remember?" The color list Bobby wrote out last year is still taped to the box of ornaments you're holding. A long ranking of colors, all crossed out until it left you with three. Silver never even made it onto the list.

Rhett's eyes dart away, suddenly too embarrassed to look down at the offending color of bulbs he's collected in his arms. "Oh."

"Did you..." you're still connecting the dots as you speak, eyes flickering between Rhett's fading smile and the plastic decorations, "want silver?"

Wordless, he nods.

Okay. Silver it is. But as you go to put your armload of gold decor back, his frown only deepens, like that's not what he was expecting in the slightest.

"Why can't we do both?" He asks, brows furrowing.

You don't get what he's on about. "Silver and gold?"

His head tilts to the side, and you can almost see the puppy ears flopping with the movement. All big blue eyes and pure confusion. "Ain't they s'posed to go together?"

"What makes you think that?" Maybe it's the sleep still clouding your mind that's making it so difficult to understand what he's on about.

"They got that song," he's nodding in the direction of the living room, like that'll help him explain, "in that Rudolph movie."

So it's a Burl Ives song that gets a fourth color added to the tree—red, pink, silver, and gold.

Two dozen bulbs were perfect for the strangled excuse of a Christmas tree that you had last year. But with every bulb that you take from Rhett's hands, curling its brand-new hook into an artificial branch, you begin to wonder if there are even enough. The boxes of red disappear quicker than planned. Then come the pink, and now you're grabbing for the silver and soon the gold.

And it's still not enough. This tree is so large that it swallows up every ornament you hang from its branches. The massive gaps between bulbs are impossible to ignore, even from across the room.

"Y' think puttin' the garlands on will make it a little less...?" Rhett doesn't need to finish his sentence. You already get the picture.

"It can't hurt?" What's the worst that can happen, you make the tree look a little less baren?

Though it's easier said than done.

The bottom half of the tree is relatively simple: passing the garland back and forth, trying your best to keep previously placed bulbs from dropping to the floor. They fall regardless. One after the other, clanking across the floor and rolling every which way.

Then comes the middle portion, and suddenly, you're standing on the tips of your toes. Have long since given up on caring about what being knocked off, the muscles in the back of your neck straining to keep looking at what you're doing. Then comes the top of the tree, and neither of you can be bugged to even begin to try that without a second ladder. Instead reaching for the silver garland, beginning to wrap it in the opposite direction of the gold.

"Getting festive without me, huh?"

That isn't Rhett's voice.

And it certainly wasn't yours.

"G' mornin'," Rhett's smiling at the half-awake figure standing in the threshold.

Bobby's eyes aren't even halfway open, leaning his weight up against the wall. His sleepy grin doing nothing to distract from the short hair sticking in every direction, cheek still imprinted from a fold in the sheets.

He's heard Rhett. You know he has because his eyes dart right to him. But he doesn't react. Staring aimlessly at the shimmering tinsel in Rhett's hands, eyes seeming to conceal every thought in the world and nothing at all.

Right as you're about to call his name, his mouth opens.

"What if we got rings in both metals?"

Your hands freeze. "I'm sorry?"

"I mean—" His eyelashes are fluttering, pale pink tongue darting out to lick his chapped lips. "Rings in silver and gold."

"You fixin' to put another ring on us, Robby?" Rhett's quicker to catch on than you are, thin lips twisted into a wild grin. Slowly spreading across his cheeks until his eyes curl with it.

Your attention darts back to the tinsel in your hands, silver overlapping gold, then to the thin golden band clinging to Rhett's ring finger. Your own is still bare, the ring sitting safely in its dish on the bedside table. Forgotten again.

Nobody ever talks about how hard it is to work up the habit of keeping a piece of jewelry on.

Bob doesn't realize it, but his thumb is idly stroking his empty ring finger. Not yet brandished with jewelry like you and Rhett because he hasn't even answered your question about what metal he prefers for his ring—

"Is that what you've been thinking all this time?" You blurt, hardly able to fight the urge to spring to your feet.

He doesn't need to even open his mouth. You know you've gotten your answer the moment his face turns a brilliant shade of ruby. Socked foot kicking at the floor, suddenly unable to look at you or Rhett any longer.

"I didn't..." his face only seeming to grow redder by the second, as he shakes his head back and forth, "you..."

You're so fortunate that this isn't your first speechless rodeo with Bobby. Have seen him fight to translate thoughts into words so many times that you have already put together what he's trying to say.

And you've only got a half second to realize that Rhett is bolting across the room before your ears are being met with an earth-shattering thunk. The house rattles as Rhett all but tackles Bobby to the floor, with no regard for the fragile decor sprinkled about around them.

Bob's feet are scrambling for purchase on the hardwood, socks giving him nothing but a smooth glide as he squirms beneath Rhett, squealing something you can't interpret. His big hands clutching Rhett's biceps, knuckles whitening as he tries to shove him off. But Rhett's got the upper hand, downright smothering with his weight.

"That's what you've been on about?" Rhett's shout is broken apart by his own giggles, knees thumping against the floor as he tries to straddle the wriggling hips below him. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Bobby's still kicking up a fight, hips bucking up hard enough to lift Rhett with it, if only for a second. "Like you ain't been secretive with that notebook, Abbott."

"It ain't secretive. It's a surprise!" Rhett's arms cross in front of his chest, frowning.

Did you miss the memo that you were supposed to have a secret project to be working on, too?

"Baby," Bobby begs, reaching aimlessly in your direction as if he has any hope of reaching you from a few feet away. "Help me."

But you're not entirely sure if you can do that. As you scoot closer, Rhett's attention darts to you, excited eyes daring you to try him. He's figured out how to win recently, and it's only a matter of time before he has you pinned on the floor, too.

You can't be bugged to even try fighting him for Bob's honor. Not only because you would lose horribly but because you're already preoccupied with leaning down and pressing your lips to the side of his cheek. Feeling the warmth of his flushed skin, the way his face wrinkles with that content smile.

"'s this what we're doing?" Rhett's asking as if he's not already leaning in, too. Audibly pressing kisses to the soft underside of Bob's jaw, where he's garnered the slightest bit of stubble overnight. "Kisses?"

And this room is far too quiet for Bobby's soft inhale to go unnoticed, his uneasy hand gliding up your arm. Always has to be holding on to something. In the corner of your eye, you can already see his other hand making a grab for Rhett's bicep, greedily squishing the thick muscle between his fingers.

Rhett's blindly reaching off to the side, mouth only briefly leaving Bob's flushed skin as he produces a thick, red ribbon. The silky soft one that had been hiding in the box of garland.

"Huh?" Bob's nose wrinkles, unable to do anything but watch as Rhett collects his wrists together, wrapping them in that smooth material. Only begins to squirm when it's too late. Rhett's already cinching the knot closed, forcing those pale arms back together as he finishes it off with an obnoxiously fancy bow. Perfectly pinned over his head.

"There we go," Rhett's grinning, leaning back in to nip at Bob's jaw, "first present of the year."

Bobby's eyes roll so hard that you briefly lose sight of those pale blue irises. Arms flexing as he tests the strength of Rhett's handiwork, frowning when he finds no give at all.

Not a word spoken, you flip to the same page that Rhett is on. Resuming your peppering kisses, tongue poking out to lick down Bob's pretty neck, working your way down to his collar. Nibbling where he's most sensitive, relishing in that surprised grunt. There's hardly any room for Rhett to fit, but he's squeezing in any way. Shoulder bumping into yours as he torments the opposite side, peering at you through the corner of his eye.

"In the middle of the floor?" There's no way Bob could have seen that look, but he's already understood what you two are up to. Wasting no time, with the way your unruly hands dip beneath his shirt, roaming over the soft expanse of his belly. Not quite as defined as Rhett, but equally loveable and squishy.

Rhett's beating you to it, shoving Bob's shirt up without a single shred of grace. "Y' got a problem with that, flyboy?" Thin lips wrapping around a soft pink nipple, yanking a gasp out of him.

"My back does," Bob's words are more of a mumble than anything else. An uneasy confession of the one thing he's guaranteed to suffer with in his career.

There are a number of solutions to this. Migrating upstairs to the comfort of the bed, grabbing a couple of the many decorative pillows off the couch and propping them beneath Bob's back, or even standing up and backing him up against the wall, perfectly cornered while you and Rhett have your way with him.

That list of solutions did not involve you sitting on the edge of the couch, with Bobby kneeling between your legs and Rhett sidling up behind him like the minx that he is. Wasting no time with peeling that thin t-shirt from Bob's pale body, exposing miles upon miles of lightly freckled shoulders and pale skin. And all Bob can seem to think about is getting his mouth on your inner thighs, daring to start right where the fabric of your shorts ends.

"'s this better?" Rhett downright purrs with those half-lidded eyes.

He doesn't get much of an answer. Just a weak 'uhuh' that's muffled by your inner thigh.

Idle, your hand combs through Bob's short hair. Has had enough time to grow past the rigid constraints of Navy regulations, the perfect length to curl around your fingers, tugging gently. Drawing his eager mouth closer, hot tongue trailing along your skin. Sending superheated bolts of lightning rippling up your nerves. Familiar warmth blooming between your legs, head beginning to spin the slightest bit.

That soft mouth of his is the definition of heaven. Sucking gently, adding his handiwork over top of Rhett's extensive assault from a few days ago, so dark that they've hardly faded at all. A mottling of patches that only worsen the further he works, all too eager to mark you up.

But it's a far cry from Rhett's vigor, working away at the crevice of Bob's neck. Loud. Reckless as he sucks a darkened mark into the thin skin stretched over his collarbone. Crafting a sinful trail leading down his back, a soft mark over every little knob in his spine.

Fingers curl into your waistband. Wordlessly urging you to lift your hips to let them slide past the soft curve of your ass, yanking the fabric down your legs and tossing them off to the side, underwear and all.

But Rhett's hands are on Bobby's hips, and they're certainly not yours. Which can only mean...

You're cut off before you can even begin to speak. Bob's flat tongue stroking between your folds, peering up at you from beneath his lashes. Dark, hardened gaze daring you to call him out on his antics.

He's slow. His hands dropping onto his lap, quietly concealing his newly found freedom, working with his mouth alone. Leaning in until his glasses fog with his own breath, lazily lapping at your sex, roaming feather-light over your clit, a ghost of what he could be giving you.

"Bobby," you gasp, and though your thighs are squishing his cheeks, it's impossible to miss the way his lip upturns into a grin.

Rhett bumps into him from behind, and that's all it takes to have the tip of his tongue pressing directly into that rapidly swelling button. A sudden pressure that damn near makes you squeal, yanking a hand out of his hair to muzzle yourself with. That darkened gaze hardens into a glare. Craves the sound of you whimpering his name, but there's not a damn thing he can do about it. Not if he doesn't want Rhett to see his untied hands.

He's pushing harder now. Aggressive strokes, swiping invisible x-shapes with this audibly wet noise that threatens to make your head float right off your shoulders. Fuck, fuck, fuck, that's a lot all at once.

Rhett's hand bumps into yours as he tangles his fingers in Bob's hair. Gently yanking him back with this absurdly loud pop, chin already glistening as he's hauled back to lean against Rhett's chest.

But it's not to torment Bobby or for Rhett to steal his fair share of attention. No, he's shoving Bob's pajama pants down his hips. Half-hard cock bouncing the moment it's free of its confines, a sight so distracting that you can't bring yourself to look away.

Until you realize that Rhett has long since lost his pants, that is. Your thighs squeezing together from the sight of them alone.

Rhett's brows knit together, suddenly perplexed with a realization you've already made. "When did y' get your hands—"

The end of that sentence never comes. Cut short by Bob's sudden burst of energy, blindly reaching behind himself to grab a handful of Rhett's dark hair. And it's like the fight immediately dissolves from Rhett's bones. Face softening as he's held in place until Bob can get behind him. Nothing but an unruly puppy that got put back in his place.

"Thought you knew better than to tie a sailor with a basic knot," Bob's chuckling into the shell of Rhett's ear, reaching forward to wrap Rhett's pliant arms in the ribbon. Not as decorative as before, opting for an intricacy that has you tilting your head, unable to keep up with what his nimble hands are doing.

You should have seen it coming. But quite frankly, you can only think about one thing right now, and it's certainly not the intricacies involved with tying a ribbon. Speechless as Rhett's pretty head is pushed between your legs. The scruff of his jaw scraping your mottled inner thigh, peppering it with a kiss.

"Sweetheart, can you look under that pillow for me?" Bob's pointing toward the decorative throw in question, the small square one that used to sit in his apartment, "Think we left the lube under there last time."

Blindly, your hand reaches behind it, patting against fabric and cushion until your fingers graze the cool plastic of the bottle.

But then Rhett's tongue darts to lap at your clit, suddenly too hungry to wait anymore, and you're fumbling with it. Nearly dropping it onto his back before Bob can even reach out to take it from you.

"Jesus, Rhett," you breathe, falling back to rest against the couch cushion, gazing down at the new, messy sight you've gained. The too-eager cowboy who doesn't have the strength to string you out like Bob does, so content that his eyes seem to smile as he gently sucks on your clit.

"'m sorry," he grumbles directly into your pussy, unable to draw himself away for even a second, "couldn't help it."

He's everywhere. Laving your clit with all the attention he can give and then dipping down to nudge his tongue against your neglected entrance. Shallowly working his tongue in and out, downright drooling into you, short little jabs that make you flutter around him. Only for him to break away the moment he's found a rhythm. Licking his way back up and over your clit once more. Collecting every bit of you, and yet he's still not satisfied.

Your hand settles against the back of his head, tangling your fingers in those long locks, pulling until you can guide him right where you want him, holding him in place. "Right there," you murmur with a shiver, "right there."

Though your grip is strong, it's not enough to stop him from jumping at the sudden appearance of Bob's lube-slicked hand dipping between his thighs. Carefully spreading the cool substance against the thin skin there, working his way up to his balls and the underside of his cock.

"What..." the rumbling of Rhett's voice sends sparks racing up your spine. Sends you involuntarily jolting up into his mouth, "are y' doin'?"

Your eyes are just open enough to catch the way Bob grins. "You'll see," is all he provides. Kneeling down to place his hands on the sides of Rhett's thighs, pushing them together so quickly that Rhett squeaks.

The first pass of Bob's cock between Rhett's thighs is a thing that surprises all of you. Rhett at the sudden appearance, you with the obscene sight, and Bob's muttering something about those pretty thighs being so fucking soft. His dick just long enough to brush against Rhett's heavy balls, gives him the slightest amount of attention.

And oh, does it have him whimpering into you. "Keep doin' that," he stutters, pushing impossibly closer into your cunt. Working you in earnest now, swirling his tongue around that swollen bud, punctuated with a soft suction that has your heart jumping in your chest. His body rocking with Bob's deep thrusts, bound arms helplessly pinned against the couch.

It's so much. Oh, it's so much. Your hips are beginning to squirm, legs clamping down around his shoulders, squeezing impossibly tight. Yanking on his hair, pulling him closer, only to try dragging him away. Don't know if you want more or less or exactly what he's doing right now, or, or—

"Untie me," Rhett's babbling all of a sudden. Sounds as far gone as you feel. "Please. Want, want...wanna hold..."

His biceps flex, straining against the thin ribbon with everything he can muster, the threads of the fabric audibly ripping as it's stretched beyond its limit. And it's all Bob can do to lean down and yank on the knot. Undoing it before it can be torn in two; technique doesn't always outweigh pure strength.

Rhett's arms are around your hips in an instant. Hugging you close like a man starved, and it's all you can do not to fall apart right here and now. Frantically pawing at his biceps, pushing at his head, unable to stop his hungry mewl from vibrating up your core. Impossible to avoid the pleased smile that plasters across his face, lightly sucking on your clit like it's his favorite candy.

"Rhett," you're whining, squirming helplessly as he downright eats you alive, tongue so sloppy that it's loud, has a sickly wet noise ringing in your ears,"Rhett I...I'm—"

"Cum on my face," pleading in that hopelessly deep voice of his, "Please, please, please."

You hardly feel it hit you. All you know is that your head is falling back against the couch cushion, and you're cumming on his burning tongue with a strangled whimper. Legs damn near locking around his scruffy face as your back arches up, fingers pulling so hard on his hair that it has to hurt. And yet he licks you through every jolted spasm, hot breath fanning out against you, humming in tune with your noises.

Bobby's pulling him away right as you grow oversensitive, pulling on those soft brown locks of hair, but you hardly expect him to haul Rhett up onto his feet. Blindly pushing him forward onto the empty space next to you, his back flat against the cushion, head falling haphazardly into your lap. Unshaven jaw glistening with you as he pries his eyes open, gazing up at you with that far-gone emptiness you've seen so many times.

Doesn't react as Bob squeezes into the little bit of space available, pushing Rhett's thighs up and together, guiding his cock through the small gap in them. Pretty pink cock head bumping right where Rhett's weeping length begins.

And Rhett's whimper sounds like your name. Big hand pawing around until he can get ahold of yours, squeezing it gently.

"Ain't you two a sight," Bob's grunting. Has only just begun to find his pace, but he's already begun to shake. Too close. Too fast.

It's enough to get Rhett's eyes fluttering, hips jolting upward, "Y' like my thighs too much." And he's going to be so sensitive once Bobby's done with him, thighs red and tender from the abuse, but fuck is all of that worth this. The sight of his trembling legs being held together, flushed cock leaking against his belly as his thighs are fucked for all he's worth.

On its own, your free hand lifts, traveling down to wrap around his neglected length. Letting the weight of Bob's thrusts push him in and out of your grasp. A shallow, lazy motion that makes his mouth fall open.

"You like that, cowboy?" You're teasing, voice a touch hoarse. Thumb finding its way beneath his plush head, swiping back and forth at the precum-covered underside.

"T-tighter," his hand squeezing yours a little harder as if to demonstrate what he's craving. And as soon as you follow his instruction, his back is arching off the couch. "jus' like that, jus' like—fuck."

But that's not enough. No, no, he's opening his mouth again. "Harder," he begs, pale feet defiantly kicking where Bob's got them held in the air, "Robby, fuck me harder."

"You're purty demandin' for a pillow princess," you don't know what's made Bob's accent slip out so suddenly, but it damn near makes your head spin. And though he's complaining, he wastes no time hardening his pace. Balls smacking against Rhett's flushed skin as his thrusts become heavier. Rough, just how Rhett likes it.

Knocks the rest of Rhett's words right out of his mouth, silences him right and proper. Dissolving into nothing but pitchy whimpers and hitched breaths. Noises growing higher and higher, until he's beginning to twitch in your grasp, your only sign that he's close.

"Cum for us," Bob's egging him on, pulling those shivering legs up to his chest, drawing him back into every thrust, "c'mon, be a good boy 'n cum."

Rhett's head lolls backward, eyes rolling, gazing up at you and nowhere at all. Eyelashes beginning to flutter and fall closed, cumming with a feather-light gasp that ought to knock you off your feet. Ropes of white paint his spasming belly and your hand, coating his spasming length.

And Bob's still fucking him, rhythmic pace dissolving into something sporadic, rubbing right against Rhett's oversensitive balls with every push and pull. Rhett's whines rising into hopeless cries, squirming, fighting to escape the way Bob's still railing into him.

Only takes a few shaky jerks of his hips for him to stall, too, staining Rhett's thighs and cock with rope after rope of cum. Glasses obscuring the way his eyes roll, head tilting back to show the new mottling of marks on his collar.

Everything is still. Quiet, except for two labored breaths, intertwining like the tinsel on the tree. Bob's shaky hand dips down, collecting some of the mess he's made of Rhett's thighs, lifting his cum-covered fingers to Rhett's swollen, parted lips. And all your cowboy can do is open his mouth and lick it off, too far gone to fuss.

Two pairs of exhausted eyes peer up at you as if to check that you're on the same page as them.

"What 'bout Floytt?" Rhett's blurting, all of a sudden, evidently unable to keep the silence for too long.

Bobby's eyebrows furrow, tilting his head down. "Pardon?"

For a moment, Rhett flounders. Mouth opening and closing. Seems to have completely forgotten how to conjure up the words he needs to speak. "Remember, the uh..." he tries, "las' name thing?"

You can't help but giggle. "You two are horrible at bringing up your ideas." Because what are the chances that you'd wind up with not one but two fiances who can't seem to give context to save their lives. Wildly blurting what's on their minds, under the assumption that you'll know what they're talking about.

"I take it that's what the notebook was for?" Bob's question is more of an observation than anything. To which he receives a nod and a faint 'uhuh' from Rhett. Can't be brought to provide a proper 'yes.'

It's not the solution you'd expected when it came to this last-name debacle. Debating on whose last name to take, the three of you are too passive to insist that your name be taken out of fear of hurting feelings. But the concept of picking an entirely new one didn't feel so personal. There's no special weight to the names you've found online.

"Floytt." It feels strange in your mouth and yet oddly familiar, as if it's been present from the moment you all met. Lifts your tongue like it does for the beginning of Floyd, still carries the short and sweet ring of the Abbott family name.

"Floytt." Bob's parroting you, pausing if only for a moment to think, and then opens his mouth once more, "I like it."

For a three-month-old debate, it sure did end abruptly. You can see it now: a pretty new name engraved on a plaque hanging below the mailbox. An obnoxious, cursive sign in the kitchen, as if you and your families can possibly forget something like a last name. Bills and new dog tags with the name stamped in pretty letters.

"Now we just have to plan the actual wedding," your smile wavers; you've got a little over seven months to figure out a theme, outfits, finalize who is being invited, and, worse of all, figure out the cake situation.

How is anyone supposed to layer Bob's beloved lemon on top of Rhett's affectionately chosen bananas foster? And then still have space for yours as well? Who gets to be the biggest layer? Who draws the unlucky straw to have the smallest? And how do you even begin narrowing down three icings to one? And themes. How the hell do you get a cowboy and a pilot theme to look good together on the same damn canvas?

You wonder if they'll object to three separate cakes.

"And finish the tree." Bob's nodding his head toward the half-finished decor; you've got to make another ornament run if you want to get anywhere close to having it done.

Rhett's resounding "ugh" resonates to your core. "C'n we take a nap first?" He grumbles, punctuated with a big, whining yawn. Batting those long lashes of his up at the two of you like it'll earn him some favors.

It does.

You're snuggled up with him in an instant. Squeezing in on one side while Bob takes the other, barely fitting onto these wide couch cushions. Your arm splayed out across the soft fat of Rhett's belly, squishy until he intentionally flexes the thick muscle there. Has rounded out in all the right places, in the chest, cheeks, ass, and cum-covered thighs.

A clean-up should have come before the nap, but you can't be bugged to get back up. And by the looks of it, neither can Bob.

"You're really gettin' us more rings?" Rhett's asking, half-lidded eyes flicking between the two of you as if he can possibly garner an answer from your expressions.

Bob's shoulders rise and fall with a shrug. "Why not?"

And it's only now that you tune into the soulless drone of the television. A familiar, festive song chiming to life as a stop-motion snowman twists across the screen, mindlessly strumming his banjo, singing about silver and gold.

Quietly, Bob begins to hum along to it. A soft rumbling that draws a heaviness into your eyelids until you can no longer lift them. Drifting off to the tune of an old song and the deep rumblings of a Navy pilot who reaches over to stroke an eyelash from your cheek. Your wonderful little unconventional trio, with your extra partner, two colors of rings, and three separate wedding cakes.

Something pops. Hitting the ground with a shrill clatter; ornaments bouncing across the floor, twinkling lights flicking off within an instant.

One eye opens, peeking at your newly fallen Christmas tree.

It closes.

Rhett's elbow finds its way to nudge Bob's chest, "you're settin' it up this time."

"I wouldn't have to if you two woulda woke me up," you knew Bob would hit you two with that eventually. Always does, at some point.

"We were tryin' to let you have yer beauty sleep, flyboy," Rhett's chirping, in that taunting sort of fashion that can only mean one thing. You don't need to open your eyes to feel the playful glares being fired back at one another.

And then comes Bob's too-calm warning. "Don't start that."

"Well, I'm startin'!" And there they go, tumbling off the couch in an instant. Ornaments knocking around as they tussle about on the living room floor. Fighting to see who's stronger, as if this outcome will be any different, swearing between giggles as they twist and turn.

You don't get to take that nap.

#bob floyd #rhett abbott #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader x rhett abbott #oneshot #x reader #afab reader #hawthorn au

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here2bbtstrash · 1 year

Text

bts at a drag show/gay bar

i was already babbling abt how much i wanted to do this with my bias line and then y'all made me realize i should just make it a whole damn headcanons post so. welcome! here we are! here is my brainrot on how the boys would turn up on drag night at the gay bar 🏳️‍🌈✨ if this content is not for you, it costs $0 to just keep scrolling ✌️

knj: everyone expected that joonie bby would be flooded with attention from the people who came out tonight specifically in search of a tall, built daddy, but there's a group nobody saw coming that ends up swarming him first: the lesbians. they fucking love him, and he finds himself getting sucked into an hour-long conversation on the back patio about roni horn and rha hyeseok. he'll probably end up agreeing to start a book club with his new sapphic friends before the night is over (and he'll run into them all again the following weekend when he goes to support soyoon at one of her gigs lmao) 👭

ksj: entirely oblivious to what it looks like when a person is flirting with him, despite that being exactly what happens to him for quite literally the entire night. each time someone new walks away from the table, he'll turn back to yoongi and jimin with the same question: "okay, now surely that wasn't flirting, was it?!" only to be immediately told that yes, yes it was and no, nobody would sit through a 20 minute ted talk on the lore of maplestory if they didn't also want to sit on his dick. he'll argue til til he's half-hoarse from screaming over the music that there's no way everyone in the club could possibly be flirting with him - but frankly, he's not mad at the ego boost 🍆

myg: putting the suga in suga daddy, he's breaking hundreds at the bar to make sure everyone has a stack of singles to tip the queens, and alllllll the drinks are going on his black card. other than that he's pretty lowkey, mostly just sipping steadily at his whiskey and looking at his phone. when somebody finally gets nosy enough to lean over his shoulder and snoop, they realize that he's actively scrolling through his rotation of hookup apps and trying to match up people in the room to their profiles. might slip away for a sneaky link in the bathroom oop, but he'll be back in time to close his tab out 💳

jhs: full-send GAGGING at the queens and their dancing. he can't even stay in his seat because song after song he's jumping to his feet just so he can dramatically collapse to the floor with a gay scream, getting his life entirely with every new kick, flip, spin, and death drop. the word slaaaaaaaay! has never been shouted with more enthusiasm than it is tonight by this man, and he does not give a fuck that he won't have a voice tomorrow. once the show is over, he is the absolute center of the dancefloor, popping and locking and showing off his footwork like he was born to do it-- and the boys will definitely catch him practicing his duck walk at some point in the next week 🕺

pjm: without a doubt, he is the LIFE of the mf party, lost in the lights and outta his mind u kno?? it's literally just the like crazy MV, actually. will make everyone do shots as soon as they get in the door and then at least once an hour the rest of the night, if only because he really likes flirting (and by flirting i mean making out) with the shot boys. lbr he probably gets several shots poured or spat into his mouth, and if anyone's hopping up on the bar to get tequila sucked out of their belly button, it is absolutely this demon. and ofc he's bringing at least one person home with him - "it's gon' be a good night" indeed~ 😈

kth: disappears into the crowd a few songs into the set, but he texts the group chat that he's fine and just made some friends, so the night carries on without him. it isn't until the next performer is called to the stage - miss tata mic! - that everyone realizes he's befriended the queens, and they've done him up right: cinched for the gods, face beat to make his eyes even more smoldering than usual (...wait, did he bring his colored contacts from home?!), and moving fearlessly in borrowed six-inch heels. and of course, his choreo is flawless. he easily earns enough tips to pay yoongi back in full and then some 👠

jjk: the definition of 'happy to be here'. loves the lights, the music, the ~vibes~, all of it. he somehow knows every word to every single song, and the more drinks he has, the louder he's singing along. and the queens love him for being easy to fluster, the way even his ears flush with color when he blushes, so he gets a whole lot of ass and tiddies in his lap and his face (rewarded with generous tips, naturally). when the lights finally come on and everyone stumbles outside, he's a drunchies king, and he thinks the food from the truck in the parking lot is quite literally the best thing he's ever tasted. he repeatedly shouts 'DAMN!' up to the night sky, one fist swinging as he eats, until someone pours him into the car so they can all head back home 🍗

#i never know how to tag these lol #bts imagine #bts headcanon #idk why these all got so long i didn't think i had that much for everyone and then..... suddenly #anyway tag yourself i'm jk but also hobi #THANK U to the anon who reminded me about the video of tae in heels!!!!!!!#long post

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genevra-von-krolock · 2 years

Note

Hi, could you possibly write a Saru story where the two, Saru and the reader, possibly come together after ages, after it's actually obvious that they really 'like' each other and share some sweet moments?

Thank you ^~^

First, I’m so sorry that it took me so long but i have problems with my wrists. I took the liberty of writing Saru x OC instead of reader, but I hope you like it anyway and thanks so much for the ask @jokatsuya !

Crossposted to my AO3

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💙When flowers bloom💙

Saru watched as the glittery swirls of the transporter faded into nothingness and the body of a woman appeared. He may have not seen her since their academy days but she looked exactly the same as she had back then. Small, barely reaching his belly button and curvy. Kind green eyes peeked out from long red hair that hung down in soft waves around her round face. She smiled up at him and Saru reached out his hand to guide her down from the transporter pad.

“It is a pleasure to see you again after such a long time, Sarah!” She clasped his hand in her small ones and her smile was radiant. “And you are as sweet as ever, my dear Saru!” At that, he blushed (could a Kelpien actually blush?) and stammered a few unintelligible words down to her. He gathered his bearings and together, they strote out of the transporter room.

“Would you like something to eat first? You must have had a long day.” Smiling, she nodded her head. “Yes, that would be marvelous! Lead the way, sweetheart!”

Again, he blushed and looked around if somebody had heard them. Thankfully, the corridors were empty and the unlikely pair continued on to the mess hall.

The doors swooshed open to grant them access and Saru stirred them to a nearby table. Gracefully, he folded his long legs under the furniture which prompted Sarah to laugh at him. “Just like back at the academy. You always looked like Snowwhite sitting in the kitchen of the seven dwarfs!” Curiously, he tilted his head.

“Who’s Snowwhite? And who are the seven dwarfs? Isn’t it really mean to insult someone because of his bodily features?” At that, Sarah could only giggle more and more.

“That’s a human fairy tale. I’ll tell you about it sometime later, dear.” Again, she called him a term of endearment but Saru found that he didn’t mind. “That would be most appreciated. Do you want to order something? What do you want to eat? You must be famished!” His tendency to babble when being nervous only made him more endearing to her but she opted not to tell him that so as not to embarrass him further.

“I think I’ll go with some sushi.” He nodded and went to a replicator to order their food.

After a few seconds, he came back, balancing a tray on his large hands.

“Here you go.” He placed her plate full of little sushi rolls in front of her and put a cup of what appeared to be tea and a small bowl on his side of the table.

He picked up the little salt shaker he brought along and poured a generous amount of it into his tea. When he absentmindedly stirred it around with a spoon, he looked to Sarah, who had picked up a pair of chopsticks and slowly balanced a maki roll on them to her mouth. “I could never understand why raw fish wrapped in some kind of leaf is so appealing to you humans. Not when nearly every meat you consume is cooked.”

Chewing, she smirked, swallowed her food and put her chopsticks down. “Well it’s not meat, it’s fish. It has to be raw, otherwise it would not be sushi. Picking up another small roll, she contemplated him as he took a large gulp of his tea but frowned and poured more salt into it. Accusingly, she pointed one of her chopsticks at him. “But drowning your tea in salt is better? If he still had his treat ganglia, it would have been shaking and flaring at her tone but he knew that she didn’t mean it like that.

“I suppose each species has their unique preferences.” Smiling, he picked up a small blueberry out of his bowl and popped it into his mouth.

“I see that one thing also hasn’t changed. Still stuffing yourself full of berries. Do you remember when we used to have little picnics in the park and I fed them to you ?”

Embarrassed, he gazed down at the table.

“Yes of course. Those are some of my fondest memories of our Academy days together.” That was an understatement. He took great pleasure in being fed by her and she knew that. It always made him feel safe and loved when his peers always made it their mission to make him feel like an abomination, a freak.

Mischievously, she picked up some berries and held them in front of his mouth. He put down his mug of tea and instinctively opened his mouth to accept the tiny blue fruit. When Saru noticed what he had done, he blushed a deep red and hurriedly looked around if someone had seen this. Sure as hell, some crewmembers were staring at the pair curiously, some even snickered.

Sarah noticed his red face and grinned from ear to ear. “What would you say if we took this to a more private place, my dear?” Abruptly, he took her by a hand and nearly dragged her out of the mess hall. Sarah could barely snatch up the small bowl of blueberries and tried to keep up with his long strides as he hurried to a nearby turbo lift.

“Saru..-what…?” When the doors of the lift shut, she looked deep into his eyes.

“Are you alright?” Saru raised his hand to tenderly stroke one of her long curls behind her ear. Now it was her turn to blush. “Yes, of course! I was just taken aback by our quick exit.” Smirking up at him, she copied his actions and stroked his cheek.

Humming quietly, Saru turned his cheek into her warm hand.

“I must apologise, it was not my intention to frighten you.”

“What was your intention, then?”, she asked rather playfully and put her other hand also on his cheek so that her hands now framed his face.

Embarrassed, he lowered his gaze but she turned it up again with one of her fingers.

“I..I just wanted to be somewhere more private with you where my crewmates wouldn’t be able to spy on us. There’s something I need to tell you, something I was meaning to talk to you about for a long time. “Ohh, well if that’s the case then you will hear no complaint from me!” Suddenly, as if by command, the doors opened with a swoosh and Saru took her by her hand and lead her along the corridors. They turned left and walked almost to the end of the hall when Saru stopped in front of a silvery door.

He keyed in his code and gestured to her to enter his quarters. When she stepped into his rooms, she immediately noticed the humid air that seemed to emanate from the ceiling. Nervously, he stepped around her and tried not to let his nerves get the best of him. “Oh my…! Saru, this is magnificent! What..how??” Sarah was at a loss for words as she marvelled at all the different flowers, seedlings and blossoms around her. She felt as if she had stepped into a forest straight out of a fairytale.

“I like to keep my quarters like this. It reminds me of my homeworld and the Captain was kind enough to grant me this freedom. Do you like it?” “Like it? It’s breathtaking!”

She smiled from ear to ear as she carefully brushed her hand over a small blue flower. The petals were soft as silk on her skin and when she smelled it, a very heavy aroma, not unlike lavender, wafted to her. A small smile took its place on Sarus face as he guided her to his with grass covered bed.

“So, what was it that you wanted to tell me so urgently that you kidnapped me into your own, privat forest?”, she giggled as she noticed his look of embarrassment.

“Please, stop looking at me like that. I was only messing with you. You know that, right?” “Of course! I’m sorry, I just can’t help it.” He took her small hands in his bigger ones and tenderly stroked her skin there. After taking a deep breath, he looked into her eyes.

“I..I…When we first met on the campus back at the academy, I was simply mesmerised by your sheer happinesses and love for life. You accepted me for who I am and didn’t make me feel like the tall, uneasy alien that everyone else saw in me. You were genuinely interested in my being. You made me feel safe, like I could talk to you about anything at any time, and you still make me feel that.

Over the course of the next few years, these feelings only got deeper and I came to cherish every single moment with you. Just before our graduation, I noticed that these feelings run deeper than normal friendship but I was too afraid to tell you.” At that, he shamefully lowered his gaze down and picked at the grass that covered his bed.

Sarah had been silent during his speech but was now looking with all the love she could convey into his eyes. “Why were you so afraid to tell me, love?”, were the only words she could utter. “I..I didn’t want to ruin everything in case you didn’t feel the same. Our friendship was simply too precious to me.” She smiled tenderly at him.

“You could never ruin what we have! You are my Saru! My precious, tall, kind and sometimes utterly adorable Saru!” With that, she leant up into his face and kissed him square on the lips. Surprised, Saru fell down on the mossy bed and took her with him.

They exchanged some tender kisses and just basked in each other and their newfound love. When Sarah laid her head on his chest, he tenderly stroked her back and held her to him. Together, they lay there till both of them dozed off.

The bowl of blueberries stood forgotten on the small table in the entryway.

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