#also might be writing drabbles that ft these bastards

[cinnaminsvga]

🤬 | seokjin

the sleep deprived series (n.): drabbles that i write when i’m sad and tired

→ frenemy!seokjin ft. e2l and the magnificent get-along sweater | 2K words → a/n: this is dedicated to my homie @jincherie​ who has been, as they say, wiping her ass everyday only to shit again. i can’t really do much to actually alleviate your circumstances except maybe making you smile, so i hope this can be your tiny ray of sunshine amidst the crap. this fic literally makes no sense because i wrote this within one hour so i’m sorry but pls know that ilysm!!

“Where’d you even fucking get this abomination?” you growl, struggling fruitlessly against the coarse fabric. In your fidgeting, your elbow knocks into Seokjin’s broad chest, causing more damage to your weak joints than anything. Even so, Seokjin grunts overdramatically, stepping on your toes in retaliation.

“Yoongi-chi, you know that I love you very much—” Seokjin seethes, his teeth clenched almost painfully as he fights to restrain himself from ripping the sweater in half, a la Hulk style. “—but I will not hesitate to stab you once I get out of here.”

“Not my fault that you both are acting like a bunch of toddlers,” Yoongi snorts, hip jutted out in contempt like the homosexual that he is. “And to answer your other question, I bought that sweater online after your last fight, when you two were literally wrestling on the kitchen counter. I didn’t know whether I walked into some intense BDSM play or a WWE ring.”

“You bought a fucking get-along sweater for us? What are you, some sort of Christian camp counselor?” you growl, kicking your legs out in an attempt to hit him. The slimy twink bastard jumps away gracefully, landing onto the loveseat opposite the couch that you were sitting on. He crosses his legs, opening his arms wide when your traitorous cat jumps onto his lap, looking to all the world like a terrible Bond villain from the 80s.

“If I was Christian, I would not put the two of you into a sweater together,” Yoongi says. He strokes your cat, who purrs loudly before pointing a contemptuous glare back at you, as if she was enjoying your torture too. Dumb cat. You never liked Miko anyway.

Yoongi continues, “Anyone would two eyes knows that you both are just one brawl away from fucking each other into the next dimension. Lord knows that your sexual tension could power the entire city.”

It’s Seokjin’s turn to snort, who has been relatively quiet in comparison to you. He’s also less fidgety, but that might be because he at least has the advantage and comfort of occupying 90% of the sweater space due to his oceanic shoulders. You once described him as “horizontally imbalanced,” which he did not find slightly amusing.

“I would rather place my balls into a panini press and feed them to Miko than to ever fuck Y/N,” Seokjin fake-gags, squirming uncomfortably in his seat. “It would be less hot for me to actually grill my penis than for me to sink into her hell-ish cunt. I swear, you could bake bread in there with how much yeast has accumulated from—“

You headbutt his chin before he can finish, squawking indignantly. The satisfying sound of his teeth clacking together in pain is momentary but worthwhile. “Excuse you, but it’d be an honor to fuck me! I’ve got that S-tier pussy! If my pussy was in a gacha game, people would spend thousands of dollars just to roll for my mystical coochie!”

Yoongi smirks. “So you admit that you do want Seokjin to fuck you!”

“What the fuck! No! That is—what the—I don’t!” You stammer, face flushing as you struggle to regain your footing in the conversation. Yoongi’s eyebrow raises, intrigued by your slip-up. “That is totally not what I meant, and you know it!”

Yoongi picks at his nails, pointedly avoiding eye contact. “Sorry, I don’t speak hetero. Prithee, explain thy peculiar mating rituals to one who does not walk the straight and narrow path.”

You slump back against the couch, forcing Seokjin to follow and fall backward with you. His shoulder hits you square in the boob, causing you to groan in pain. “Yoongi, just let us out of this thing before I lose a limb to this walking inflatable tubeman,” you plead, ignoring Seokjin’s glare.

“I resent that,” Seokjin inputs, but no one pays him any mind. Your attention is focused solely on the smirking kitty man in front of you, who grows smugger as time ticks on.

Everyone in your friend group is aware of the weird relationship you have with Seokjin. Ever since you met him in your freshman year of university, things were never peaceful between the two of you. It was always constant bickering, squabbling, competing… everything. Even Jungkook, Seokjin’s other sworn enemy, doesn’t argue with the elder as much as you did.

For three years, everyone just assumed it was your weird kindergarten schoolyard way of showing affection for each other, and at the beginning, it might have been. You and Seokjin, both of whom have never dated in their lifetimes despite being moderately popular while growing up, are unsurprisingly emotionally stunted and never learned how to just be nice to people you like. Affection who? Compassion where? To the both of you, physical connection can only be achieved through hair tugging and nipple pinching, and not even in the sexy way.

But at a certain point, things were starting to get tiring. Your arguments only grew larger in scale, to the point where it was getting hard to differentiate whether the bruises on your neck were from pinches or something else.

“I just… Ugh… When are they gonna fuck, hyung? I’m actually getting tired of their constant fighting,” Namjoon had lamented one afternoon, just a day after your last altercation with Seokjin. It had been a big one, where Seokjin nearly lost a tooth when you had landed a neat uppercut squarely on his jaw after he called your toes ‘a foot fetishist’s worst nightmare.’

Yoongi’s boyfriend had been staring listlessly into his bowl of soup for the past hour, and he was honestly starting to get worried when it looked like Namjoon had started muttering to himself in a foreign language. Yoongi almost thought he might have been scrying for a prophecy, begging for an answer to their most pressing question.

“What do you want me to do about it? Lock them in a room and let them out only after they’ve done the deed? Mixed bodily fluids? Performed the monkey dance to its climax?! No thanks, I don’t wanna be near them when that can of worms finally explodes,” Yoongi grimaced, shivering at the thought.

Namjoon shook his head quickly, face paling with him. “Heaven forbid. Maybe you can keep it PG? How about getting one of those get-along sweaters or something. I think they used those in kindergarten.”

Yoongi sighed. “Yeah, but the question would be how I’d get them into it.” He flaps his noodle arms around in demonstration. “I’m not exactly in the running for world’s strongest twink. Plus, years of fighting each other means they’re both stronger than I am.”

Namjoon shrugged. “Easy, just dare them to wear it. Make it into a competition. Nothing gets them more riled up than when they’re trying to outcompete each other.”

And so, that’s how the two of you had gotten stuck in a 3XXL Hello Kitty sweater that Yoongi had bought from Ebay. It has yet to be decided whether spending $40 on expedited shipping was worth it.

“Look, Yoongi-chi. We both promise that we will stop fighting once you let us out of this,” Seokjin says, smiling sweetly at him. Had Yoongi been younger and much more prone to the alluring temptation of the Straight Man™️, he might have caved. But Yoongi is older now, plus he knows when Seokjin is lying better than any polygraph test.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, waving him off. “Fat chance. You’d probably stop fighting for approximately three hours before getting mad about mint chocolate ice cream or something.”

“Hey! Give us some credit. We both agree that flavor is abhorrent, so we would never argue about that,” you retort, with Seokjin nodding furiously in agreement. You glance at him. “And I feel like we’d last at least six hours without fighting. What was our record again?”

“Five hours and twenty-two minutes,” Seokjin says.

You hum thoughtfully. “Okay, I can promise at least five hours and thirty minutes. Maybe.”

Yoongi groans, rubbing his temples in frustration. His souring mood even makes Miko jump away in fright, and the two idiots trapped in a sweater can immediately feel the dip in temperature. Uh oh, here we go!

“I am absolutely sick and tired of the two of you dumbasses fighting all the time! It’s embarrassing as hell trying to bring either of you anywhere in public because everyone mistakes your little catfights for strange foreplay or whatever,” Yoongi glowers. The two of you shrink into your seats, ashamed.

“We’ve only gotten kicked out of one Costco—” Seokjin defends. 

“But we did get fined for public indecency at the beach when I pulled your trunks down, which was totally unfair, by the way,” you mutter. 

“You literally threatened to, and I quote, ‘Suck the soul out of Seokjin’s dick until he dies.’ How the hell is that unfair?!” Yoongi exclaims. 

“It was a death threat! I would’ve accepted a charge for attempted murder, but that was not going to be a sexy blowjob, I assure you—”

Yoongi holds up a hand to silence you. “Face it, you both like each other. Whatever! Sure, you guys are the token straight people in our friend group, but that doesn’t make you bland as hell! Well, actually, it does but…” Yoongi pauses, wondering if it was worth lying. It takes a second for him to refocus. “Where was I? Oh right—“

Yoongi clears his throat, starting again. He heaves a deep breath, shoulders sagging tiredly as he puts on the sincerest face he can muster. “Listen, I just want to say that I care a lot about you, okay? And it sucks seeing the both of you hurting every time the other person says something really mean that neither of you even mean! If anything, will you please stop for me? If you really cared about our friendship, will you do it for me?”

There is a heavy pause as Yoongi strives to get his breathing back in check, his impassioned speech causing his fragile grandpa heart to race. He can feel his cheeks darkening in embarrassment, unused to using his “hyung voice” on Seokjin or you. Separately, the two of you are very reliable, never really needing him to scold either of you. Together, however… that’s a different story, but as the next eldest hyung, it really only fell to Yoongi to fix his friends’ mess of a relationship.

Screw age hierarchy. Yoongi would love to see Jungkook try to get Seokjin and you to fuck. Would absolutely pay to see the twerp squirm as he tries to even say the word “penis.”

After a while, Seokjin and you share a look. Yoongi watches with bated breath as he waits for either of you to speak, but he can sense some unspoken conversation happening between you. Perhaps, after years of exchanging blows, you had somehow knocked brain cells into each other and now share a weird psychic connection. Or, more likely, the two of you actually like each other and understand each other on a deeply personal level, so personal in fact that you could probably finish each other’s sentences, like—!

“We refuse,” you both reply in tandem, your joined voices echoing throughout the apartment. You both had said it so in sync that Yoongi might have imagined the other person speaking, but no—you both really did just say that to his face. In front of Miko. In front of his goddamn imaginary salad.

“Excuse me?” Yoongi squeaks. He cleans his ears with his fingers but finds no cotton there. These bitches! How dare they just throw his speech to the gutter! That shit took brain cells to think of, and he is not in the business of wasting his precious minutes by using them for productivity.

You shrug, leaning against Seokjin’s shoulder. He can see the ghost of a smirk tugging at your lips, thoroughly enjoying Yoongi’s confusion. “You heard us. We’ve made the executive decision to double our efforts, actually.”

Seokjin nods, not even shoving you off his shoulder like he normally would whenever you made contact with him. What? “Exactly. Honestly, we’ve been fighting for so long that we’ve kinda been just doing it for the bit at this point, and the fact that it annoys you so much is just the icing on the cake.”

Yoongi stares at them. His brain doesn’t feel like it’s connecting to his body at all; he feels like he’s floating. “So. What you’re saying is—“

“We know we like each other. Whatever. But we also like fighting, so who gives a shit if we’re having fun at the end of the day?” you shrug, pinching Seokjin’s cheek for good measure. As per usual, the elder retaliates by grabbing your finger with robot-like accuracy, before biting you there like a ravaging beast.

“And before you ask, no, we aren’t really dating. Yet. We kinda just wanted to piss as many people off before actually becoming official. We honestly didn’t think that you’d be the first one to crack.” Seokjin says, your finger falling from his mouth. The imprint of his teeth marks on your skin are plain as day, but you don’t look remotely bothered by it. In fact, you’re practically cooing at his ‘baby teefies’ like a psychopath.

“I—“ Yoongi stutters, at a loss for words for once in his life. He stands from the chair, but his knees give out from under him, causing him to tumble to the carpeted floor. He holds his head in his hands, shell-shocked. “So… That means…”

“Yeah, we’re kinda just freaky, I guess.” You muse before laughing hysterically when Yoongi begins to sob. “Hey, you’re right! We did make Yoongi cry! Do you think we could make Namjoon piss himself in rage when he finally confronts us too?”

Seokjin cackles, shaking your hand underneath the sweater. “If anyone can do it, I know that we can.”

And so, the two of you stand up clumsily to your feet, not bothering to escape the ridiculous sweater as you both waddled out of Yoongi’s apartment. From outside his door, Yoongi hears the sound of a new fight commencing, your shrieks resonating down the hall and for all the world to hear.

[vinyls-and-valentines]

Alright, tagging system check under read more if any of u ever need to find a post i reblogged or shut up my constant rambling:

General:

Trigger warnings and blacklist:

I tag trigger warnings as “#[content]”, “# [content] mention” “#[content] tw” and “#[content] //”. You can block either tag or all three and you should in all technicality be safe. Things i’m uncertain whether they need a trigger or not are under “#ask to tag”.

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Character tags:

# hyperion's eye- Jet Star

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# reinventing icarus - Party Poison

# sunshine- The Girl

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# posterchildren misbehave- Korse

# burning heart- Flare

# blizzard’s eye- Sprawl

# jetset lies- The Director

# ashen feathers- The Phoenix Witch

# electric soul- Destroya

# technicolor anomaly- Mousekat

[yeaimfishboi]

A Flawless Plan

Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader (ft. Hyuck)

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: None? Just an annoying ass Donghyuck really

Requested by anon:  If you are still doing the Drabble game, can I request for 14+29 w Markly?? Uwu I also really love your writing

Prompt:  14.“Take. It. Off.” 

29.“Come over here and make me.”

A/N: This was for the 2 year/19th birthday drabble thing that I finally got around to. So, here we go with the first one! Thank you anon, so much!!! Also, Kait wrote- a drabble? it’s been like 700 years!

“Trust me Y/N, this plan is flawless,” Donghyuck chuckled as he smoothed out the wrinkles in the sleeves of your shirt.

“When have any of your plans ever worked, Hyuck?” you sneered emphasizing the last two words. He just scoffed at you, making a big deal of rolling his eyes to the back of his head. He’d been trying for months to get you two together. That is, you and Mark. You, Donghyuck, and Mark were practically inseparable since you became friends about 4 years ago. This means Donghyuck knew that your feelings for Mark were far from platonic, albeit way before you did.

“Listen, I’m the one who coerced Taeyong into buying the three of us ice cream at 3 in the morning. I’m the one who successfully convinced Kun that it was Jisung that broke that expensive ass vase when it was actually you who knocked it over. I’m also the one who managed to get the blue stain out of the carpet before the boys came home after you and Mark had spilled Kool-Aid everywhere. My plans work, idiot.” He nudged your shoulder

“Fine, I’ll hold you to this Hyuck because if this doesn’t work and I end up making a fool out of myself in front of Mark, I swear to god I will beat your ass. Taeyong won’t be able to save you this time,” you shook your fist in a threatening motion as he threw his arms up in defeat.

“Lucky for me, and for you, but mainly for me, that won’t happen. This plan has a 100% success rate. Well, I mean, it was created by a handsome genius.” 

It was your turn to scoff at him, “it may also have to do with the fact that, um, you’ve never tried it before?”

“Listen, Killjoy, he should be getting home from practice any minute now, so just act natural.” He shooed you into the room that he and Mark shared.

“You know I suck at that Hyuck. What should I do?” Your voice raised a little out of fear for the inevitable, but your shaky voice wasn’t loud enough to raise concern from anyone else.

“You act as if I know. Just lay on my bed while on your phone until he shows up or something.” And with that, it was like Hyuck disappeared into the darkness. 

You followed Donghyuck’s instructions to the T and just sat on his bed as you through Instagram until a creaking noise had awoken you from your blue lighted trance, which signaled to you that someone entered the room. You managed to squeak out a “hi” before you jerked your face back into your phone.

“Oh hey, Y/N! I didn’t expect you to be here. And on Donghyuck’s bed nonetheless,” Mark chuckled. 

“I mean he is our best friend as well Mark, what did you expect?” you didn’t want to look at him. Your stomach boiled, goosebumps erupted from your skin as this cloud of anxiety loomed behind you. Of course, your eyes betrayed you as your gaze quickly dipped to him. He was looking directly at you. Not at your face or your eyes, like a normal human being would, but at your shirt. Well, to be frank, it was Hyuck’s Michael Jackson shirt. His favorite shirt. He never took the damn thing off. Damn, you Donghyuck. You egotistical bastard, you thought. 

“You’re wearing Hyuck’s shirt? Why is that?” Mark asked.

“It’s comfy, smells like him, and so, I wore it. Nothing more to it,” you stated matter of factly.

“So it should be no issue for you to just wear something else then?”

“No, I’m comfy. Why would I change if I’m comfy in his shirt?” You sat yourself up on your bed. You were starting to feel angry with his response. 

“Just change,” his voice rose.

“No.”

“Take. It. Off. That shirt looks stupid on you,” he was basically growling at this point.

“How about you come over here and make me.” This line made your insides squirm, but it was one of Hyuck’s instructions. It was too gross for you to handle.

“Just take it off, please. You don’t understand how it makes me feel,” he sighed. 

“Why should I do that?” you huffed out. Follow Donghyuck’s instructions, don’t stop until you get the answer, you thought. 

Mark took in a deep breath, “I can’t really tell you. I’d rather die.”

“Just tell me. I’m your best friend, we tell each other everything,” you muttered out.

“It might be because I’m in love with you. I mean I’ve loved you for a long time. It’s not like it’s something that just came out of nowhere. And honestly I never thought you had any sort of feelings for me in return, but seeing you in Hyuck’s shirt, makes me feel like my heart has exploded into a thousand pieces, but I can’t be too mad as I’m just your best friend. He’s something more and all I can do is watch from the sidelines and cheer you-”

“Would you just, like shut up? I love you too Mark,” you giggled before you wrapped your arms around him.

“But, you’re wearing Donghyuck’s shirt, doesn’t that mean that you two are together?” Before Mark even had a chance to breathe, the door to the room burst wide open, revealing an elated Donghyuck.

“See, I told you this would work Y/N! I. Am. A. Genius. Now, Mark, before you get mad at me or Y/N, you two were way too dense to understand that you like each other, so I just nudged you along,” Donghyuck panted while he did a little happy dance.

“You are one giant asshole, Donghyuck, but it worked,” you smiled as you looked up into Mark’s eyes. He was too busy processing his shock before you planted a kiss right on his cheek. You tried to turn your head back to face Donghyuck doing God knows what, but you were stopped by Mark pulling your face back towards his with his knuckles. He smiled back down at you and kissed you.

“I’m so glad that his plan worked,” Mark smiled again before kissing you one last time.

You two were caught up in your own world until you heard, “EW! That’s gross. I do not need to see that, thank you. Also, Y/N, give me back my shirt, I do not need your feminine-ness all over it.”