#i just. the music paired with the masterful fucking angle you get of this when you enter leyndell proper.

[waywardsalt]

i think elden ring will always been my favorite game in terms of environment. every area is so impressive, even the copy-paste stuff manages to be impressive with atmosphere, and the amount of just. stunning-looking locations is wild especially with how natural even the most amazing looking shot you can find is.

just the fact that you unavoidably see this when you walk into leyndell is incredible. one of my favorite environment views in all of the games ive ever played

[noodyl-blasstal]

TAZ Bingo time!!! From @taznovembercelebration Prompt: Joking or Serious  _________________________

Kravitz had lived with Taako for three years. He had been in lust with Taako for two years and three hundred and sixty five days. He had been in love with Taako for one year and forty seven days.

Taako, thankfully, didn’t seem to have noticed.

The lust part was easy to explain. Kravitz isn’t dead, he has eyes. The love bit was more of a surprise. It crept up on him until, deep in the throes of music practice, Taako dancing along wildly inappropriately for Britten’s First Suite for Cello, he thought ‘I love this idiot.’ After that, it was obvious.

Kravitz and Barry’s “I’m In Love With a Tacco Twin and All I Got Was This Lousy Whatsapp Chat” provided some comfort. It turns out there was, in fact, a gif for most situations. At least now if he screamed into the void when Taako made him eggy bread because he knew he missed home, or walked around the flat in nothing but a towel, the void yelled back about how it loved Lup.

Tonight, Taako had decided to 'borrow' one of Kravitz's t-shirts and was wearing a particularly tiny pair of shorts. The chat was busy. Barry was suffering a similar fate apparently. It was getting harder to reply though, Taako seemed intent on taking over the entire sofa whether Kravitz was on it or not. Usually Taako would kick his feet into Kravitz's lap, or even snuggle up beside him… but now the man was lying across his lap and Kravitz was panicking. Surely he couldn't see the screen from there?

His phone vibrated on the arm of the sofa, the name of the chat appearing on the lock screen. Kravitz angled it away and tried to remember exactly how to breathe. It was fine, that was only visible for a split second, Taako couldn’t have read it in that time, he definitely didn't see.

Taako moved fast. “You have to tell me right now, is this serious?” He demanded, grabbing Kravitz’s phone.

Every ounce of moisture left Kravitz’s mouth. Was there an opposite to flash flooding? Flash drying. Why did they not see this coming? Barry had so many PhDs, Kravitz was generally pretty smart… He could just have set his messages not to preview, he could have stopped messaging Barry and focused on the hot boy in his lap wearing his shirt, he could have named the chat literally anything else.

“Krav? Kraverino? Kravatappi? You have to do words now, my guy.” Taako was looking up at him, barely containing a grin.

"It's… I." Kravitz said with grace and decorum. Great start. Nailed it. Master of love confessions! At least Taako hadn’t run away and locked himself in his room.

Taako snorted. "Okay Stud, that one's on Taako. You have to do words relating to the question." Taako raised his eyebrows and waited.

"It's not a joke." There, an answer without any direct admission. That didn't actually count as telling him!

"You're in love with Lup????" Taako gasped, horrified.

"No, I'm in love with you, you idiot." Kravitz rolled his eyes and shoved Taako's shoulder, grinning at how ridiculous the accusation was. Then the realisation of what he’d just said hit. That fact was supposed to go to his grave. That was not supposed to be actual words he said at Taako. At least not without flowers and macarons, maybe some sky writing? Okay, back on task, he could fix this. He could make this okay. "Like, in a… a friends way?" He added, convincing no one.

"Oh, okay, a friends way, so you wouldn't be interested in, say, smooching this beautiful face?" Taako asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"No?" Kravitz said, staring very intently at Taako’s lips. Fuck. He buried his head in his hands. If Taako couldn't see him then this couldn't be embarrassing. That was science. Immutable fact.

"Oh, okay, so you also wouldn't be interested in a WhatsApp chat I may or may not have named "I'm in Love with my Oblivious Roommate and Therefore I Live in Hell"?" Taako asked, mildly.

"I might, maybe, be interested in that." Kravitz said hopefully, peeking past his fingers to be sure Taako wasn't joking. He winked at Kravitz. Smug bastard.

"Interested in that in a friends way?" Taako asked. Kravitz was going to expire. Taako was never going to let him forget this.

"Could we forget this happened and I'll surprise you with flowers tomorrow?" It was worth a shot. Taako liked flowers!

"Nope" Taako popped the p viciously. "You can still buy me flowers though." He added. Kravitz pretended to roll his eyes. "Now, about that smooching, handsome?"

"Hold on, just got message Barry first." Kravitz grabbed his phone and just about managed to send 'torture=flirting' before a throw pillow thudded into the side of his head. “Right, where were we?”

[allthebettertoseeyou]

🍓

I’m still thinking about Bill and Frank. It’s 8 AM. Haven’t slept. Have had insomnia for days because of bad and sad reasons and am so relieved to have had one night of restlessness that’s fixated on something good. Something beautiful. And that’s what this version of Bill and Frank’s story is. Breathtakingly beautiful.

I adore The Last of Us games. I think they’re both examples of masterful gameplay and storytelling on several fronts. But I’m not so blinded by my love as to be unwilling to admit that the first game got Bill and Frank’s story very wrong. They relied on tropes of tragedy and trauma and “burying your gays” that media of that time, and even some still today, treated as the only way to tell a queer love story. Ten years later, they not only admitted to and corrected those mistakes, they improved upon and deepened the role and meaning of both characters in a way I never could have imagined.

The Last of Us is ultimately a story about love. The love of a parent and their child. Of love that’s born out of necessity. When the whole world has gone to shit and you have to search for something, someone, to hold onto. To make that life worth it. Because even in that world of decay and destruction and death, it has to be for something.

I really relate to Bill in some ways. He’s a survivor. A pragmatist. He prides himself on his practicality and capability and resourcefulness. He knows he can rely on himself. Protect himself. He doesn’t need anyone and he likes it that way…..

But he’s lonely. He doesn’t care to admit it to himself. Certainly doesn’t want to let anyone else in on it. But he is. He hides out in a bunker where those “new world order, jackboot fucks” can’t get him, arms himself with the essentials, sets clever traps to keep others out, and barricades himself inside his own little town. Inside his own, lonely little closet. And there he can rest assured that he is safe.

Because… love is fear. Love is vulnerability. Love is pain. Is loss. Is inevitably, someday, in some way, having to say goodbye. And in a world full of creatures whose sole purpose is to destroy you, the last thing someone like Bill needs is to invite someone into his home, with a live, beating heart, and their own potential to destroy him. And yet, he does.

He rescues Frank from his deeply dug pit and risks the safety of his nest and offers him respite. A hot shower, a change of clothes, a home cooked meal after two days of starving and the perfect wine to pair with it. Because maybe, in the risk of nourishing Frank, maybe he’ll be nourished too.

Bill is a conservative, middle-aged, gay man in a world that essentially ended in 2003. He never lived to see a time where you could legally marry the person you love. Let alone a world where you could be proudly out and living without fear for your safety or of judgment. He never had the chance to know love. And while he’d done okay for himself living without it, he wasn’t truly living. Dinners were eaten alone. In the dark. In the dust. Watching infected fall victim to his traps as means of entertainment. Until… Frank.

Frank climbs out of Bill’s pit and into his home and with him he brings sunshine. Sunflowers. Promise. Hope. He observes the precious manner in which Bill presents dinner. Angling the plate just so. The way he pours the perfectly paired wine. He is drawn in by his antique piano and his Linda Ronstadt sheet music and the longing in his fingers and voice singing ‘Long long time’. And he sees him. He knows. And he places his hand on his shoulder and gives him his first honest kiss and takes him to the bed that would become theirs and tenderly shows him all that love can offer him. If he’ll let it. And he does. And it offers them both so much.

“Paying attention to things is how we show love… Just let me love the way I want to.” Frank has to convince Bill of this. And it isn’t easy. It isn’t easy to convince Bill that there is more to their life than just necessity. That he doesn’t always need to reinforce the walls and dine with gun in hand when trying to turn strangers into friends. That even in their broken world, there’s still room for manicured lawns and boutiques and candles and paintings. That it’s worth it to trade a little gun for a packet of seeds that grow into a patch of strawberries so sweet you laugh and sob simultaneously when you share them in the golden sunlight of evening with the one you love.

And then, inevitably, the time comes to say goodbye. Twenty years have passed and age has fallen upon them and a degenerative disease has placed Frank in a wheelchair and Bill wakes up one morning to hear that it’s The Last Day. That Frank needs him “to love me the way I want you to”. To make him toast and dress in what he asks and become his husband at the piano where they began. To crush up all of the pills Bill reminds him to take each day, pair them with the wine and the delicious dinner and take him to their bed where he’ll fall asleep in his arms. And Bill almost can’t do it. Because here it is. Here it finally is. The live, beating heart that will destroy him when it stops as his goes on pumping and pulsing and persevering.

But Bill does. Because he loves him. Because love is not just good days. Love is not just the first three to four months of intensity. Or the one to two years of comfortable, familiar routine. Love, after twenty years, is finding a way through bad days. Really awful ones, together. It’s evolving. Easing up on your stubbornness and mind of practicality to make sure that your person has the paint they need to fill your home with art. Conserving a little rainwater to keep the flowers and garden alive. Listening to the list of a man who thinks he’s dying on your dining table as you save him, because you know how his mind works. And that even with a bullet in his gut, you are what he wants to protect. You are his purpose.

And so, they fall asleep together instead. Crushed the pills into the bottle, swallowed the wine down smooth, and climbed into their bed to slumber. And here we deviate from the game again. Two bodies instead of one. But this isn’t a trope. And it isn’t traumatic. It isn’t the tragic suicide at the end of the play. It ends on their own terms. Bill and Frank’s. Who loved and lived for each other for 16 years. And died together, having led fulfilled and satisfying lives. And, god, if all of us could be so lucky.

Knowing the title of the episode going into it, I wondered what it could mean. The Bill we meet in the game is a drastically different man than the one the show presents. Frank we only see as a corpse. Bill’s “partner” who despised his stuck-in-his-way mentality so much that he left. Got bit. And killed himself. Leaving behind a note for Bill telling him how much he hated him. To have my question answered at that piano, by two men singing earnestly out of key about loving someone “a long, long time”; I wept.

In the official HBO’s The Last of Us podcast, show runner Craig Mazin describes why the Linda Ronstadt song was chosen as the introduction of Bill and Frank’s love story,

“The lyrics were someone saying: Everyone tells me that it’s okay. That love will find me. That the pain of heartache and loss and disconnection will heal. No it doesn’t. No it’s not. And the person that I long for from afar, I’m gonna love them basically forever in the most unrequited manner. And, to me, I just thought, what a beautiful notion that you can’t ever get there. The closer you get the further that light gets away from you.”

As an aging gay man who’s never known love, it’s clear why this song resonates with Bill. “This is you,” Frank says after discarding the ‘Fur Elise’ and ‘Tales of Hoffmann’ that belonged to Bill’s mother. “There is no girl”. “There’s no one at my side”. And Frank, knowing why, says: this is me too. I will stand by your side.

As a straight woman about to enter her thirties never having had a relationship, never having been kissed, the song resonates with me too. And did long before I watched one of the most profoundly meaningful hours of storytelling in my life. Unrequited love is the only romantic love I’ve ever known. And I know it so deeply. I know how it feels to live a life watching everyone around you falling in love. And falling in love together. I know how it feels to ache. To watch the person you love… love someone else. Or several someones. To long desperately for the tenderness of love. Of companionship. Of kisses and intimacy and sex. Of being chosen by the one you chose. I know the loneliness that comes with the rejection of reciprocity. Of years passing and learning how to accept that it’ll probably always be this way. That some people aren’t fortunate enough to find love in their lifetime. That you may very well be one such person. And that you’d better find a way to get used to it. To build up barriers and shut yourself away. Alone. In your home. Safe and out of sight from the light that burned you. Yet still craving the warmth of the sun.

Bill and Frank made me believe again. That maybe love can be found after all. That even if your world goes to shit, maybe someday someone new will come along. Someone who gets you to peer into that pit you’ve dug to protect yourself. That pit that told you: don’t risk it, don’t be open, don’t be vulnerable, don’t bother dreaming of the someday someone who could love you. Someone willing to help you climb out of that world and into a new one. Together.

In the end, Bill’s letter to Joel, acts as the thesis for the entire wider story of The Last of Us. Save who you can save. Love who you love. Allow yourself to be open to that. To both the pain and the joy. And maybe one of the lives you save will be your own.

I know. This is an essay no one asked me to write. It’s one I doubt any other soul apart from me will read. But I had to write it anyways. Bill and Frank’s story is the kind I long to write. One that moves you. Makes you weep. Captivates your mind for hours after its conclusion and robs you of your sleep. The kind of love story that sticks with you for a long, long time.

[hoodharlow]

Mine

AN: bc this bitch can’t give me a minute to get my fics done, y’all are getting this instead of the workout!cal from the other day. Thank you to @cherryxwildflower for helping me with my scene, ilysm Mede 🥰🥰🥰Also pic from @calmfolklore​  💕💕💕

requested? By my coochie

Warnings: jealous!Cal, smut, use of possessive language during sex, kinda rough sex???

Word Count: 2.2k words

Calum watched Claudia struggle carrying her bookbag, backpack, purse and lunch bag when she exited the middle school. It wasn’t much, but in 86℉ weather it was. He chuckled to himself as she still kept a bright smile as she passed her students. He got out and helped her with her things. 

“Why am I doing this again?” She huffed when she sat in the cool car.

“For the kids.” Calum said, starting the car.

“Fuck them kids.” She grumbled. 

She climbed to the backseat and rummaged through one of Calum’s duffle bags that he kept in the car for when he stayed in the studio and needed to change clothes. She grabbed his red and black striped jersey and took off the dress she wore. She also grabbed a pair of Vans she had and swapped out of her sandals. She fell off the seat as Calun did a sharp U-turn. 

“Dude what the fuck!” Claudia cursed from the floor.

“Sorry, I forgot the ice cream shop you like is on the other side.” He said.

Claudia pushed herself up and got back in the front seat. She clicked her seatbelt as Calum pulled up at the front of the shop. 

“I’m going to find a spot. Can you wait in line for us?” 

“Yeah,” she said. Claudia leaned over and gave him a kiss. 

She grabbed her wallet from her bag and hopped off the car, pulling down her biker shorts. She pulled her hair into a bun and entered the shop. She took her spot at the very back of the line. Claudia looked out the window and saw Calum’s car drive around the corner. She pulled out her phone to text him that he should stay in his car and wait for her to send him another text to come get her since there was a long line. Mid text she felt someone tap her shoulder. 

“Miss. Santos, what brings you here?” It was Christian Rosas. 

He was one of her co-workers at the middle school. He graduated from UCLA last year where he got his Master of Arts in Teaching for mathematics. Claudia met him on her first day when she went into the wrong wing. 

“Hi Mr. Rosas.” She said. Calling each other by their last name was their inside joke because one of the other teachers claimed it was unprofessional to call each other by their first names.

They slowly fell into conversation about school and how the heat is getting to the students. Claudia’s message to Calum was long forgotten until she saw him enter the shop. He approached her.

“I was gonna text you but I ran into Christian.” Claudia said, reaching for his hand. She turned to Christian. “This is my boyfriend Calum and this is Christian. He’s one of the other teachers that works with me.”

“Nice to meet you.” Calum said politely. 

He extended his hand out to shake Claudia’s co-worker, but he dropped it when the guy left him hanging. He was iced out by the guy. He took all of her attention while he trailed behind them. If someone saw them they would think that the guy and Claudia were dating and not Calum and her. She was too busy talking to the guy that he ended up ordering. He stood off to the side and read over the band’s group chat.

"Are you in grad school too?" The guy asked Calum.

"No." He said, looking up from his phone.

"So you're done with school?" He pressed.

"No, I didn't go to college." Calum said curtly. 

"Oh." 

Calum knew that tone and it made him feel inferior. Like his success wasn’t equivalent to someone who got an education. Even more when it was said in front of Claudia. It always made him feel less intelligent when someone pointed out that she has a college education and he doesn’t. Like he doesn't deserve someone like her. 

He focused on his phone and barely heard Claudia tell the guy that he’s a successful musician. He didn’t hear what the guy said, but he could tell it wasn’t good from the face Claudia made. Luckily their order was ready. 

Claudia handed Calum the box of paletas while she took her nieve flotante de limon and Calum’s diablito. She ignored Christian when he bid her goodbye.  

The pair quietly entered the car and were on their way home. Fortunately there wasn’t traffic and they made it home in less than half an hour. Calum angrily entered the house, placed the paletas in the freezer and locked himself in his home studio. Claudia awkwardly stood outside of his home studio and knocked. 

“I have your ice cream.” She said, offering him his diablito when he opened the door.

“Thanks.” he said, taking it. “I’m going to work for a bit. Then I’ll order some dinner.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Listen Cal, what Christian said about—”

“I have some work to do.”

***

The next few hours were silent. Calum was still in his home studio. Claudia heard him playing his bass. It wasn’t actual music, it was more of him just taking his anger out on the bass. She knew Christian’s comment upset him thus upsetting her. 

No one has the right to diminish Calum’s success to nothing. She’s seen him work hard for almost two years. He’s one of the most successful people she’s ever met. She admired him for his determination and drive. Hearing her co-worker say that being a musician isn’t going to take him far pissed her off. 

She finished her grading and went upstairs to shower. She emerged from the bathroom, refreshed and with her mind somewhat at ease. She grabbed a pair of black lace panties from her drawer and pushed the sliding door of their walk-in closet open. She looked through some hangers with some of Calum’s t-shirts and tugged one off. It was black with a skeleton dunking around a circle of fire. 

She sniffed into the collar, surprised that it didn’t smell like him. She went to a small shelf where he had all of his colognes and spritzed her favorite one all over the shirt. 

Claudia skipped down stairs and settled in the living room. Duke crawled to her chest and curled up on her. They both decided to watch 102 Dalmatians. They were at the part when Spot flew away with a puppet in balloons when she decided to get a paleta.

Calum emerged from his home studio and stood in the kitchen in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. 

“I’m gonna order. Do you have— Is that my shirt?” Calum said, cutting himself off. 

“Duh,” she said before sucking down her paleta. “I found it in the closet.” 

“Don’t you have your own clothes to wear?” He snapped, taking a few steps to her. 

“You’re kidding me right?” She scoffed sarcastically. “Is this really coming from the guy who begs me to wear his clothes? Since when is me wearing your clothes such a big deal?”

“Claudia, I just bought it. I haven’t even worn it.” He argued. His hand tugged the bottom of the shirt, pulling her to him. “That’s my shirt. Mine.”

Claudia swallowed hard. It was rare for Calum to use that tone on her. She can count the times he's used it in one hand, but nonetheless it left her dripping with desire. She met his gaze and smiled sweetly at him.

“Then take it off me.”

Calum towered over her and took her paleta, tossing it in the sink. Before she could make a comment, he grabbed her face and kissed her. They moaned into each other’s mouths, tasting the sweet chile and chamoy on their tongues. Without breaking their kiss, he grabbed the back of her thighs and picked her up, sitting her on the counter. 

He slowly pushed the t-shirt up her body, kissing up her body. Claudia wordlessly lifted her hands up as he continued to slowly remove the shirt. He swiftly tugged it off and took a step back to drop his sweats. He reached for Claudia’s panties and pulled them down her legs. 

They resumed their kissing. Calum pressed his hips into hers. Claudia let out a soft gasp of pleasure. He pulled away and thrusted into her once again, earning louder sounds from her. 

He stroked his length a few times then coated himself with Claudia’s arousal. He placed one of her legs over his shoulder and slid into her. 

Claudia nails dig into Calum’s biceps as he pounded into her. He took her rough and possessively. She knew Calum was in a mood where he just needed her to know she was his and only his. And she let him. She didn't mind it. She knew he needed some quick way to distract himself with whatever was on his mind.  

He snapped his hips, burying himself deep into her with every thrust. It didn’t take long for Claudia to come. She chanted his name and wrapped her legs tighter around him, wanting to feel all of him. She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes.

“Can you take another?” Calum asked her. 

“Yeah.” she nodded, breathless.

Calum pulled out of her and carried her to the couch. He laid her down and patted the couch 

“Hands and knees.”   

Claudia nodded and knelt in front of one of the arm chairs. She felt his hand on her back, gently pushing her over the armrest. He leaned forward and kissed up her neck.

“This is to remind you you're mine.” He whispered in her ear. “Ready?”

Claudia nodded eagerly. She looked over her shoulder and pulled him into a kiss. Without breaking their kiss, she turned her whole body so she was laying down.  Before she did anything else, he grabbed her and draped over the armrest like she was seconds ago. He shoved himself in one satisfying thrust.  

Calum pulled out and pushed himself in her once more. His hands gripped her waist as he slowly rocked into her. He twisted his shirt around his hand, using it so Claudia could stay up right. As the minutes passed, his thrusts got rougher, and Claudia couldn’t hold back. She begged Calum to keep fucking her at that deliciously slow and rough pace she loved. He leaned over his chest against her back. 

“Fuck.” Calum moaned out.

His lips kissed all over her neck as he continued to fuck Claudia. She rocked back against him, meeting his thrusts.

“That’s it, take me so good, pretty girl.” He groaned in her ear. Calum shifted his hips as he thrusted into her. The new angle he was fucking her made her beg for him. 

“Tell me I’m yours, Cal.” She moaned. “Please, fuck—” 

“Shit.” He groaned. 

“Cal, please tell me.” She cried

“You’re mine, Claudia. Is that what you want to hear? You’re mine.”

“Yes!” she nodded.

She pushed back rougher to meet his thrusts. He gripped her hips with one hand while the other went back down to her clit. Calum worked his fingers roughly as he pushed his hips into Claudia. 

He buried his face in her neck, kissing her sweet spot. She quietly whimpered his name, lazily meeting his thrusts before her orgasm took over. Calum’s orgasm followed soon after. He cried her name and pushed himself deep inside Claudia, spilling every last drop in her.

“I love you so much, Claudia.” Calum mumbled against her lips. 

“I love you too,” Claudia giggled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 

Calum grabbed a blanket from behind the couch and covered them. They laid in silence, exhausted. Claudia ran her fingers over his blonde curls. 

“Were you upset with what Christian said?” She asked him quietly. 

“No.” He said, sitting up. “If I’m being honest, I think I was just jealous of him. Not because of his looks or whatever, seeing you laugh at your inside jokes made me feel left out. Then I got over it because I’m the one who gets to hear you come undone… What did he say?”

Claudia rolled her eyes. “He thinks you’re just starting out in music and implied that you’re not going to make it. Like, hello, you’re Calum-fucking-Hood. You have four albums out and working on your fifth one. You have tons of hits and you tour around the world playing sold out shows.”

“He kinda has a point. I mean, he has a degree and I don’t. What if something happens to the band, and I can’t make more music and tour? I would be fucked because I don’t have a degree or whatever to fall back on. Then I wouldn’t have money to support us.” He shrugged.

“I mean yeah, but that doesn’t matter to me.” She said. “If shit hits the fan then we can just open a dispensary and I’ll bake edibles.”

“You’re right,” he chuckled. He got up from the couch. “I gotta do something real quick.”

Claudia gave him a confused face as he went to the kitchen and grabbed the shirt and his sweatpants. She trailed behind him and slipped on her panties. She got even more confused when he stopped out on the patio and started taking selfies. She watched him grab his bucket hat off the table and snapped a few more pictures. After he typed on his phone and took off the shirt. He went inside and handed her his shirt.

“Here you go,” he said, kissing her head. He leaned down and whispered, “tonight you’re riding me with this on.” 

Taglist: @aquarius-hood1996 @suchalonelysunflower @f-mu @another-lonely-heart @sunshinebabycal-deactivated2021   @calumscalm @karajaynetoday @cherryxwildflower @ashtonsunflower  @idontneedanyone @findingliam-o @5-secondsofcolor @mulletcal @polycashton @fckingpernico @2fangirl4u @calpops

Special Guest: @nowherebound @wastelandcth

[bokugaos]

pairing: iwaizumi x sub!reader

length: 1.5k

tw — master/pet, bladder desperation, oral (m. receiving)

iwaizumi squints at you sitting next to him, bent over and staring wide eyed at your thighs. you are frantically bouncing in your seat while the crowd of the lunch rush pours into the street, making their way into the restaurants at the mall.

he pulls one hand out of his pocket and puts it on your forehead. you are sweating; cold and a little clammy.

“you sure you can go through this? just a little more.”

you squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head. both your legs are now bouncing nervously, hands clutched on each of your knee, knuckles going white.

“no… i-i want to. i know i can.”

he grins, showing off a row of teeth. he leans down and presses a kiss on top of your hair.

“i know you can. and i have a surprise for you later.”

the bell on top of the door rings and the volume suddenly notches up a whole lot. the restaurant host guard is making his way to your table, a group of five men behind him. iwaizumi squeezes your shoulder one last time and leans back in his chair, an easy grin on his face.

“is y/n-chan sick?” oikawa asks with a small frown, idly playing with front cover of the menu as he stares up straight at your face from across the table. you are sweating profusely; so much that it looks like it pains you to be sitting there.

iwaizumi shrugs his shoulders, pretending to be bored at having to be here. he tugs his jacket a little downward with his fists in his pockets to hide the half-chub he is sporting watching you fight against your painfully full bladder in front of his friends, and everyone else in the restaurant.

you are battling brilliantly, but this time it is mostly the fear of being punished and your enthusiasm at the prospect of earning your surprise reward later, he knows. you are barely listening to their ongoing conversations, not even when they call your name, they couldn’t get your attention. it’s difficult to make sound decisions when you are fighting against your own body and trying not to piss in front of an audience.

“nah. she’s doing better than ever, actually.”

—

iwaizumi doesn’t rush unlocking his door, but he also doesn’t dawdle. you are clutching his elbow, practically vibrating. you are radiating feverish heat and have even taken to grabbing your lower abdomen; your crotch with both hands like a little kid. you look ready to just explode at this point.

maybe making you wait until you’ve made it home has been just a bit too much, but you’re here now. he stands off to the side as he pushes the door open, not making you wait even a second longer.

he walks in slower, closing the door and hanging up his jacket while he listens to your abject sob of relief coming from the open bathroom door. he slips out of his shoes, the thick stream of piss like music in his ears. it’s been a close one. had he been in a more sadistic mood today, he would have pinned you to the wall until you pissed yourself like a little girl. as is, he has other things planned for you. he’s in a more benevolent mood.

he has everything laid out on the living room table already, but he needs to get himself ready, too.

when you finally come out of the bathroom, looking calm but still embarrassed, you are greeted with the sight of his thighs, spread apart as he strokes himself with his fist.

“h-hajime?” you ask softly. you are wringing your hands in front of your chest. you’re still wearing your clothes and your socks – and your coat.

iwaizumi pauses and turns to face you. his cock is still only half hard but he’ll get there. it’ll only take seconds of his pet kneeling and performing for him to get him good and going.

“you did amazing. come here, you can get your treat now.”

you make no movements, staring down at your feet, occasionally looking up, only to look away after a second.

“come here. this is going to be really good, you’ll love it.” iwaizumi croons with a lazy grin, tongue pressing against the ceiling of his mouth. you slowly come closer. you look rather mesmerized by the simple gesture alone, eyes stuck on the cock that will go into your mouth. no need to wonder about what to say when you are gagged and busy suckling his dick.

this would be fun.

—

iwaizumi’s head is thrown back, resting on the top of one of the couch cushions; he can’t see you but he can hear the soft wet suckling as you play with the cock on your tongue like you’re playing with a pacifier.

it’s surprisingly calming.

he fumbles for the remote as he rocks his hips forward, fucking himself on your face. as he lifts his head up, one hand behind your head to keep you in place, he puts on a movie that he doesn’t really have any plans to watch and stares at the screen without really looking as you slowly take more of his length into your mouth.

there’s no rush about either of your movements. you try at first to awkwardly bob your head and around his cock, but eventually you just stay still at a nice angle and lets him do the rest. it’s better that way; slower and more intimate.

“you’re so good when you can just stay still and not do anything,” he murmurs sleepily. his eyes have gone out of focus, staring at the screen. faintly beneath the moving pictures he can see your reflection in the glass; you kneeling in front of him like a puppy, obediently holding your neck at a weird angle so he doesn’t have to do much but fuck himself on your mouth.

“like not pissing your pants in the public. that was a really good improvement.”

he can feel you shifting a little because his dick is pushed even deeper into your throat, the blunt tip rubbing along the warm inner walls and making him go a bit cross-eyed. he wishes you’re well-trained enough that he could push even deeper into you, making you take his entire length and down your throat, but he’ll go slow as a little reward for your hard work earlier today. 

Besides, this anticipation makes it all the sweeter.

he is aware of the light nudges every now and then when you gag, the tension tingling at the back of his head. it’s a shame he doesn’t have time often enough to just relax and play with you.

iwaizumi fumbles back, then cards his fingers through your hair. you shift even closer to him, having ditched your clothes in favor of getting more contact with his skin without obstructions.

“you did so goddamn good out there,” he slurs, staring blearily at his and your reflection. it’s difficult to see it with the moving pictures but his brain is somewhat fizzled out and he doesn’t have the coordination left to just turn the the screen off again. “thought I’d have to waste my load right there in the restaurant bathroom while i make you wait with the others. they were asking if you were sick, you know?”

he tries to somewhat guide you into trying to take him deeper and faster, but only tugs ineffectually on your hair… which is also nice because you are a pain slut and loves getting hair pulled on.

you get the hint, though, and try to move your head, bobbing along his fat cock. you move your jaw in an awkward motion that has it bending into your throat again, electricity running through your legs and making you thighs shake enough that you have to focus on not toppling down.

he’s always known you are obedient. he’s always known that you would love being unable to receive anything while being made to service him.

it makes him wonder how much you would love getting caged. or plugged up to the fullest.

make you walk around and run errands by yourself as you get inevitably lost in the crowd, always feeling the fullness of his seed and the plug between your thighs, knowing you can’t get out of it without him willing it.

iwaizumi’s eyes glaze over. he stops staring at the screen and just digs his fingers deeper into the cushions, panting softly as he ruts onto your face, pushing himself deeper. the knowledge that he won’t let you come; that your biggest relief today has been being allowed to piss.

knowing that you look to him before you even dare a peek at anybody else is good. more than good. better than any orgasm, really.

in front of him, you are still suckling happy on his cock pushed into your mouth. you don’t even think of anything as you get him off.

god, there’s still so much iwaizumi can do to you. 

[yunhofingers-writes]

Let’s Play A Game- SeongSang

Note♥︎- Please I was working on this for a week..Special thank you to @tenelkadjowrites for giving me advice <3 and This is an early Happy Birthday for @multidreams-and-desires since i’ll be a bit busy for these past two days for my recital. I’ll give you something better if you don’t like this though ! also sorry for taking so long with an update for “Diary Fantasies” I was going through writers block.. comments will be nice please

Genre♡︎- Smut

Warnings/Tags♥︎- Degrading (slut), Master, Top! Hwa, bottom! Yeo, MXM SMUT, unprotected sex, choking, oral, dirty talk, rimming, Seonghwa got big dick syndrome, talks of restraints, and Yeosang has blonde hair and Seonghwa has black hair here

Pairing: Yeosang X Seonghwa

Word count♡︎- 1,973+

❥-Yeosang smiled as he applied the clear lip gloss to his lips. Seonghwa called him earlier, telling him he wants to play a game with him and telling him to dress pretty for him. Yeosang had on white, see through briefs with roses decorating them, a white choker that connected to his nipple clamps, and a long, white, high knee socks.

Now, Yeosang isn’t one to lose or back down from a challenge so he easily accepted it. He got dressed and sat on the bed, waiting for Seonghwa to get back from the shower.

He almost dozed off waiting for Seonghwa until he heard the bathroom door open. He sat up and looked at the way Seonghwa walked in with just a towel on. His eyes traveled to the water dripping off of his abs, his tiny waist, and the thick bulge that poked out of the towel.

“My eyes are here, baby.” Yeosang looked up at Seonghwa with wide eyes, licking his lips.

“I see.” Yeosang responded and got up doing a small spin. “I dressed up nice for you like you asked.”

Seonghwa felt himself twitch at the boy’s choice of ‘dressed up' and walked over to him, towel loosening up every step he took.

“Don’t you look gorgeous.” Seonghwa lightly traced the clamps, tugging once his finger reached the middle part. “You look so pretty, baby. Can I take a picture of you?” Seonghwa asked and Yeosang nodded, looking at Seonghwa with huge puppy eyes.

Seonghwa took more than one picture with Yeosang in different angles and different poses. He was going to continue until Yeosang had asked him what was the game he wanted to play.

Seonghwa stopped what he was doing and put his phone up only to get on top of Yeosang, attacking his lips with his. Yeosang noticed and snatched the towel from Seonghwa’s waist, throwing it to the side. Seonghwa bit Yeosang’s bottom lip, pulling away, stretching it. He squeezed his stomach in lightly at the faint touch of Seonghwa’s cock touching him.

Seonghwa smirked and got up, biting his lip at how Yeosang already had looked fucked out. His head turned towards the left, cock hard and leaking through his briefs, and his eyes were completely dazed.

Seonghwa wanted to ruin him.

Yeosang looked up at Seonghwa, ready to find out what the game was going to be.

Seonghwa finally answered Yeosang’s unanswered question.

“I want you to tell me your most dirtiest fantasy.” He kissed Yeosang’s belly.

That’s all he wanted? Yeosang wandered. They don’t usually have ‘kinky’ sex or anything, just the usual, casual sex. Nothing thrilling really and Yeosang really didn’t want to tell him his fantasy, specifically because it is.. nasty.

“Here’s where the real game began. I’m going to touch your pretty body as much as I want and where I want while you’re telling me. If you moan even once, you’ll have to tell me a different fantasy.”

“Wait, so even if i’m in the middle of the story and I moan-“

“You’ll have to switch to a different one.” Seonghwa finished

“And what if I win?”

“Then you’ll get my cock in any position you want.”

Yeosang blushed. He never knew Seonghwa had such a filthy mouth like this until now. He didn’t know how to react to it.

“What if I run out of fantasies?” Yeosang felt bad he kept questioning, but he needed to know.

Seonghwa smiled reassuringly .

“You’ll only have 3 tries, baby. If I win, you can’t cum tonight.”

Seonghwa is kind of enjoying this. He went out earlier with Wooyoung to go shopping and asked Wooyoung has Yeosang ever told him anything he likes during sex, because he noticed Yeosang seemed kind of bored with casual sex. He told Seonghwa that Yeosang really like sex games and lots of dirty talk so he spent the rest of the day learning different things about ‘dirty talk’ and different kind of sex games and his favorite has to be ‘oral dice’ he’s definitely going to try that.

Yeosang stopped to think about it and decided ‘fuck it.’ He agreed and laid down, waiting for Seonghwa to start.

Seonghwa took a deep breath before starting. He palmed Yeosang through his briefs, squeezing him lightly to tell him he’s ready for him to start.

Yeosang's breath hitched before he could start. He closed his eyes, feeling Seonghwa’s hand rub up and down his torso.

“I’ve had this one dream.” He swallowed, hips jumping up when Seonghwa pinched his nipple. “Y-you were u-uhm, you were saying all of these dirty things to me.” He was almost done. He’s going to win on his first try.

“Mhm what dirty things, baby?” Seonghwa rasped, tugging at the nipple clamps making Yeosang moan out loud. “Aw, I really wanted to know what dirty things I was telling you, baby. Oh well, I'm sure that you have something else in that pretty, dirty mind of yours.” Seonghwa smirked and Yeosang frowned. He wanted to win on his first try.

He’s going to win this time, he’s determined. He calmed his nerves and straightened his back.

“I’m starting again.” Seonghwa warned before touching Yeosang’s inner thighs, lightly.

“I once daydreamed at work, thinking about how big your cock is.” He bit his lip, stopping the moan from coming from his throat at the way Seonghwa finally pulled his cock out of his briefs.

“Y-your hands were holding my hands down above my h-head and you were f-fucking my mouth.” He finished with a deep breath.

Seonghwa looked up at Yeosang with a dark gaze.

“Tell me, what was I saying to you? Was I whispering filthy things to you while you took my cock? Seonghwa asked before taking Yeosang full.

Yeosang moaned loudly, feeling Seonghwa’s mouth on his cock. He thrusted his hips up, wanting more. Seonghwa pulled up and laughed at him

“Everytime we get to the good part, you end up moaning, baby.” He teased and Yeosang threw his head back, upset that Seonghwa’s mouth isn’t on him anymore.

“That’s not fair, you literally put your mouth on me.” He whined and Seonghwa just smiled at him.

“I said I'll touch wherever and however I want , didn't I? He tilted his head and Yeosang rolled his eyes.

“Aww baby, are you sad that you’re finally losing?” Seonghwa pouted at him.

“I won’t lose.” He told Seonghwa, licking his hand only to rub Seonghwa’s cock twice, biting his lip at the deep groan Seonghwa let out.

“We’re playing like that? Okay.” Seonghwa cracked his neck and got on top of Yeosang, leaning down by his ear. “Same rules except this time you have to tell me everything I've said to you in the second fantasy.”

Yeosang shivered at Seonghwa’s words, breathing heavily at the intense moment in the air. He had to think about what story was the first one for a moment.

He took another deep breath. Now this time is his time to win. He’s going to win.

“You were calling me degrading names.” Yeosang felt Seonghwa take off his briefs. “You said I looked pathetic, thrusting in the air trying to feel friction.” Yeosang’s breath hitched when Seonghwa licked his hole with his flat tongue, but he continued anyway. “Y-you called me a nasty slut and came down my throat.” He finally finished.

Seonghwa hummed and added a finger inside of him. “You won, baby.” He smiled at him and turned his finger inside of yeosang. “You can have me anyway you want.”

Yeosang moaned loudly, happy that he could now make noise. His hands went down to rub his cock, he yelped the moment Seonghwa’s hand made contact with his hand.

“Did I tell you to touch yourself, slut?” Seonghwa almost growled out, adding another finger inside of him.

Yeosang whined at the words that left his throat. He wants to hear more of that. Seonghwa sounded so fucking good like that, growling, voice deep in his dom tone.

Seonghwa scissored Yeosang’s hole with his two fingers. Yeosang’s moans were like music to his ears. Listening to Yeosang’s moans could make him bust right there.

“You sound so fucking hot.” He took a dramatic pause just to thrust his two fingers inside of the blonde and groaned at the way Yeosang whined. “Taking my fingers like a good boy.” He smirked.

Yeosang threw his head back and tugged with his nipple clamps . “Y-yes, i’m your good boy, master.” The word slipped out almost too fast for him to catch it. His fast turned a deep pink color, embarrassed that he let that out.

Seonghwa paid no mind to it and added another finger. “Once I finish prepping you, you can have master any way you want, baby. I’ll even choke you since you like being choked. Even if it’s not with my cock.” Seonghwa licked his lips at the thought of choking Yeosang with his cock.

He curled his finger inside of Yeosang, chuckling darkly. Yeosang wailed loudly, his cock now red and angry.

“I-I’m ready, Seonghwa. Just please.” He begged and Seonghwa tsk’ed.

“I’m sorry, who?”

Yeosang blushed and looked down at Seonghwa. “M-master, I'm ready to take your cock.”

Seonghwa curled once more before taking his fingers out of Yeosang, cleaning them on the bed.

“How do you want me, baby?”

Yeosang thought about it before smiling at Seonghwa. “I want to ride you.”

They quickly switched positions after hearing that. Seonghwa was holding his cock in place so Yeosang can slide down. Yeosang slowly slid down, his ass facing Seonghwa with a small shudder. His body went limp when Seonghwa bottomed out inside of him. Seonghwa groaned and held on to Yeosang’s hips tightly.

Yeosang just stayed there for a minute or two before he decided he was ready to move. He placed his hands on Seonghwa’s shin and began bouncing.

Seonghwa slapped Yeosang’s ass hard, biting his lip at the sight in front of him. He watched the way Yeosang’s ass bounced in front of him, the way his cock disappeared in Yeosang.

“G-god, baby.. come on, you move faster.” He teased, gripping Yeosang’s ass hard. That’s definitely going to leave a mark there if his hand for a while.

“Y-you’re so big.” Yeosang moaned.

He slowed his movements down just to tease Seonghwa a bit.

Clearly, that worked.

Seonghwa growled and grabbed Yeosang by his neck, bringing him down on his chest a little harder than intended. His worries stopped when Yeosang clenched tightly around him.

Seonghwa propped his feet up before wildly bucking into Yeosang, panting into his ear. “You’re so warm, baby.” He bite Yeosang's ear. “You must really like being choked and manhandled, baby. You’re clenching so tight around master..”

Yeosang reacted with a whorish moan. His eyes rolled in the back of his head.

Seonghwa tugged at Yeosang’s nipple clamps harshly with his other hand.

Yeosang sinfully grinded down once more, before cumming unexpectedly. Seonghwa gasped loudly, not expecting that. He fucked into Yeosang faster, close to cumming.

“W-where do you want it?” He rasped in Yeosang’s with his deep voice and Yeosang drooled, telling him to cum inside of him.

Seonghwa bucked into Yeosang a few more times before finally painting Yeosang’s insides with a moan of Yeosang’s name.

Yeosang got up slowly, moaning at the overstimulation and turned towards Seonghwa and sat in his torso. Seonghwa’s hand wrapped around Yeosang’s body and hummed.

“Did I satisfy you, Angel?” Seonghwa asked and Yeosang nodded happily.

“Yes, It felt so good. I didn’t know you talked dirty.”

“Me either, until I saw how my voice clearly affected you.”

Yeosang looked away.

“Can we talk about your master kink?” Seonghwa teased and Yeosang smacked his chest and hid his face between Seonghwa’s pecs.

“Let’s go get cleaned up.”

End

Network ping: @8makes1teamnet

Krusty crew: @parachuuuus @serialee @galaxteez z @twancingyunhoe @multidreams-and-desires @seongsangsgf f @chvngbxn @hyetiny @little-precious-baby @yeotlny @ateezappreciation @a-soft-hornytiny @lizsvcks @build-a-roleplay @moonxteez @yunsangoveryonder @empenguin01

[johobi]

Falling, Falling, Gone

Word count: 5.8k

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Warnings: None really, it’s my first ‘SFW’ fic, though there is some extremely bad language in here. And there might be an erection because I can’t help myself.

A/N: This is the fourth and final ‘drabble’ for the drabble game I ran ages ago. Prompt: “The thought of me making out with someone else is ruining you.”

Music inspo: Don’t Be So Serious, Baby Don’t Stop, Waste It On Me

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477485

Taehyung. Captain of the soccer team. Master of your heart. You'll never tell him for fear of rejection.

So why the fuck are you about to do it in front of dozens of his peers?

Banana and peanut butter become pulp in your mouth as you glare out the kitchen window. It's so grey out there. Greyer than it has any right to be. As if your dour mood has polluted the very atmosphere. Rain lashes the exterior in leaden pellets, each one compounding your headache like a rap on the head. Don't be so serious, your bluetooth speaker croons as you chew and chew, unblinking. The bridge of your glasses slip further down your nose but you don’t correct them. Don't be so serious.

Oh, but it's all so serious. 

Your final portfolio lacks in ways your mentor is incapable of articulating, and you only have so much time to fix it. Your college life is coming to a close. There are frighteningly few opportunities out there and they’re sure to spurn a sham like you. What do you do now? Where do you go from here—

"God, you listen to such depressing music," a husky voice sounds. It’s thick with sleep and horribly attractive. You hear his feet next; big and bare as they slap the tile floor and disrupt the ambience. 

Yes, dismal is an ambience. 

Before you glimpse the interloper himself, his fingers pilfer your next mouthful of toast. His other hand has your phone and is skipping through your carefully curated playlist of moody tunes. With all the scant energy you can muster, you glower at him. 

“Taehyung.” 

Soccer captain. Campus celebrity. Doofus.

Unlikely friend and unlikelier crush. But life is strange, and he is both these things. Indeed, he proclaims himself your best friend to all who will listen. As for the matter of your tender feelings, however, he is oblivious. And will remain so.

Taehyung is long-legged and limber-bodied, but round of face and feature. A kitten in a tiger’s pelt. Will mew for affection and roar when angry. Has quite literally nudged your hand for pets and raged at referees in the same afternoon. There is usually no in-between. 

Your scowl goes unseen. He sidles past like the oblivious buffoon he is and continues to tamper with Spotify.  Smears his peanut-buttered thumb around your phone display. Ugh. You brush back your hood and fix him again with extra scorn.

"Actually, douchebag, it’s good music for thinking. And I have a headache. I hardly wanna listen to something like—no, don't you dare put fucking Party Rock on right now. Tae!"

It’s too late. The lanky idiot is already gesticulating to the beginning beats. Your phone is an unreachable hostage in his flapping hands. You’re about to lunge for it but he preempts the attack by smothering you with your own hood. “Tae.” Your whining sounds all the more pitiful muffled. “Everyfing hurfs. ‘m hungover. Pleathe.” 

Taehyung relents after further, strangled pleas. Unwraps you with a grin that grows like the sunrise. For a moment, you’re dazzled. “Sorry. No more torture,” he chuckles all low, hair in his eyes. His locks are long and always untamed. An aureate crown befitting of his celebrity status. 

One swipe and he’s muted the racket and returned your phone. You turn the sticky thing over in your hands, rueing the day you met the overgrown imp. “How did you get it this dirty…?”

You go ignored and Taehyung gets closer. He scrutinises your hunched and hoodied appearance with a thoughtful hum. “Headache?” A rounded nose and two brown eyes come into focus. "Hungover? How? I didn't see you go out last night."

Averse to such study, you shy away. "Well, I did." You did not. You stayed home and guzzled $4 Prosecco while lamenting your trash portfolio. But you aren’t about to regale him with that pitiful tale. The sheerness of shame prevents you. Taehyung would be so sweet about it, too! So buoying, with his sunny smiles and fervent encouragement: "Why were you crying over that?!" He'd ask. "Your work is amazing. Seriously amazing. I love everything you do!" He'd gush. "People will be stumbling over themselves to hire you!" He'd continue, naively. And that hurts the most, because he just doesn't get it. Taehyung is a sponsored, collegiate athlete that's graduating into a guaranteed draft. He is—and always has been—praised widely as up-and-coming. The kid has had scouts scrapping for him mid-way through high school!

You, however, are small fry, swimming in a shoal of other unknowns, leaping for the hook of internship. Your dreams of animating for Disney died long back. They dwelled with Walt now.

But you don’t resent Taehyung for any of it. Ever. He’s a paragon. Born for the limelight. Has sweat and bled oceans for it. And for some reason he insists that you, too, are deserving of that same renown. Why? He’s ridiculous. Far too kind. And—Christ, he has a big dick.

"Taehyung, can you please not shove your tiny fucking penis in my face while I'm trying to eat? I'm nauseous enough as it is."

The soccer captain rests a foot on the seat next to you, giving you ungainly insight into his crotch. Taehyung, as he often, inexplicably is, is clad only in his boxer-briefs. This would be alarming were it not so goddamn commonplace. He is allergic to clothes.

According to him, he’s a naturist. 

According to you, he’s an attention whore.

Taehyung points to his elevated foot, but it's a little difficult to ignore the bulge he's brandishing. "Do you understand the concept of inappropriate proximity and your current state of undress?" You rattle on, words slurred half by OJ, half by fluster. He simply points again, and with more insistence. Relenting, you follow the line of his finger to his pretty, if gigantic, foot. Then notice the ink around his ankle, black and fresh. "Oh, wow, you got a tattoo? Cool!"

"Yep! I didn't ever really think about getting one 'til I saw yours. They were so cool I became kinda obsessed with getting one. So I finally did it last night."

‘Til he saw yours? Your stomach flutters. It's not the nausea. You smother it with more orange juice. "Well, that's awesome, Tae. You'll probably want more eventually. I would've gone with you if I'd known you were gonna go alone."

Finally, he lowers his leg. It’s a small mercy. But then, for no discernible, earthly reason, Taehyung begins flexing his many defined muscles. His calves in particular catch your attention. They’re so goddamned thick. They ripple. Fucking soccer players. "Hm? Oh, I wasn't alone. I went with some guys from the team." He ogles his reflection in the microwave door.

How can you avert your eyes when his pecs dance so compellingly? It all becomes a bit too much. "Okay, what are you doing? Seriously, what? I know you're into yourself, but this is ridiculous.” He stops. Snorts. Thank God. “If you were with the guys, why did you come back here last night? I thought you’d go back to your dorm."

Finally Taehyung sits, but he’s spread-legged and that’s perhaps worse than what he was doing just now. He’s 6ft of pure, hewn sex and just so fucking casual about it. He reclines. "Some of them took girls home last night so I needed somewhere to go and you're always an open door." Finger guns follow a cheesy wink.

You scoff, but he's right. You’d do anything for the big-hearted clown. Open door? You'd be the doormat under his soccer cleats, licking them free of dirt— "You're lucky Areum isn’t here right now. Don't think she’d take kindly to having some almost-naked oaf clambering into her bed."

"You say that, but she’s tried to hit this several times.” Taehyung is smug, brows high on his forehead. Yours lower harshly. “Tell her I slept in her bed last night. She’ll cream herself thinking about it later, I guarantee you."

“You’re gross. And can you stop—why do you keep flexing? There’s just me here.” You peer about for emphasis. Taehyung is again admiring his form in some burnished surface. “No-one is looking. Or cares.” Contrarily, you’re doing both those things. But he needn’t be privy to that. 

"This is serious. I need to work on my angles.” He contorts himself into something of a pretzel to peek at his back muscles. “We're holding a hook-up auction at our dorm to raise money for a graduation blow-out. And I'm on sale. Do you think I need to work on my back?"

You ease into a squint. "When you said serious, I thought serious words were about to follow."

"I am being serious!" Again Taehyung flexes, biceps bulging by his ears like an overfed turkey’s thighs. "How much do you think I'm worth?"

The world.

"I dunno. I'd take you for free, I guess, if you were the last one left."

Taehyung is unperturbed by your acerbic wit. It ricochets off him like rubber bullets would a muscle-bound ox. He is your greatest adversary. The bastard lacquers his lips until they’re plump and glossy and boasting a smirk. 

He’s always doing this. 

Always moistening himself. 

"Oh yeah? Well, I think you'll be disappointed." A boxy smile emerges. "I got girls and guys already approaching me about it. Some of the guys literally just wanna buy me for mentoring. I mean, that’s more effort than kissing, but—" He shrugs. The thought goes unfinished.

"That makes sense. You are a God among these mere mortals, Taetae." It's not sarcasm this time. Taehyung senses it. The grin he returns is life-affirming. You're so close to reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. Telling him you're proud. Telling him you most likely, maybe, love him. But you notice you've dragged your sleeve through peanut butter—”Ah, shit,”—and you can tell him how you feel some other day.

Some other day.

"Some of them just wanna make out too, of course, and, like, I'm happy to comply. It's all for charity." His altruism knows no limits.

"Charity, huh?" You snort. Taehyung's mouth grows more square at your incredulity. "Who else is up for bidding, then?"

"Mostly guys from the team and dorm. There are some mutuals who just wanna get in on the action, too. Uh, you know Kim Namjoon?" He measures your reaction. When you give none: "Jeon Jungkook?"

Disinterest mellows your features. "Oh, right. Cool."

"So you don't like Jeon Jungkook?" Taehyung's eyes are eager, his body poised. Anticipating.

"What? No. What gave you that idea? I've talked to him, like, twice." Your face crumples as you towel your soiled sleeve. The peanut butter smears into a tragic, shit-brown stain. "Damn, that's never coming out."

"He's gonna be so disappointed. He might even cry." Taehyung heaves a hammy sigh and clutches at his breast. There’s nothing the captain enjoys more than clowning his subordinates.  "Kook likes you so much. He's really into your whole androgynous fuckboi thing you got going on. He literally said, 'She's like a mystery, man. I'm not sure if she's a girl or a guy and—like, I'm not like that, but that's hot.'"

If your eyes could roll past the bounds of their sockets, they would. "Wow, what a poet. He sounds like a douchebag and I'm even less interested now. Fuckboi? Is that really the vibe I give off?" You don't fuck full stop. Nor were you aware you could dress like you do. 

"I dunno. You just seem kinda like a gremlin to me. Or like that weird guy from Death Note," Taehyung is quick to reassure you. Cool. You’re fucking overjoyed that he perceives you that way. Not as a goddess, or his beautiful, sexy soulmate, or the princess that wanders the spires of his captive heart. No. A gremlin. Or L.

"Well, you got me there, son."

"What about Kim Namjoon?" Taehyung presses, urgent again. He picks at your bread crusts with one hand, head cradled delicately in the other. The boy could be a world-class model, too. His loose, dark curls hang like a Van Gogh nightscape, framing the planes of his unmarred face. It hurts to look at him. It hurts to be looked at.

A self-conscious shuffle. "What about him? I don't know who that is." You flick away his foraging fingers but he draws you into an impromptu game of thumb-war in retaliation. It's the only thing to extract a smile from you today.

Taehyung looks sceptical. "He's the physio student with our team! You literally talked to him all day during this season's semi-final." His lengthy digits best yours easily. But though the match is won, he doesn’t withdraw his hand. Instead he encroaches further. Thumbs your wrist. Encompasses your knuckles in a soft, warm palm. He’s clasping you like an enamoured suitor might their bashful sweetheart, and it’s very strange. What is he doing? His mind looks to be elsewhere, now.

"Uh...—oh. Oh." Yours ambles back to you. "Yeah, he was really nice, but you know my rule. No—"

"—dating in final year. Yeah, I know. I'll tell him that if he asks about you again." Taehyung has returned, too. His hand is gone. Your gooseflesh ebbs with it.

With a cough, you sober. "I think the auction's a bit stupid, really, Tae. You sure you wanna do it?"

"Stupid? Why?" He shimmies in close, smug on his face and intolerably naked the rest of the way down. His skin is hot and golden and just far too close. "You're only saying that because you're jealous, right?" He tickles your chin to keep you honest and your eyes on him. You seize and squeeze the offending hand because he might be right and now you’re embarrassed. "The thought of me making out with someone else is ruining you," he goes on to say, brazen as the smirk defiling his cherubic cheeks.

"Some rather large conclusion-jumping going on there," you smile, sweet as sugared cyanide. Your vice-grip tightens until he’s pouting in repentance. "I meant it's stupid to put yourself in a potentially uncomfortable situation if you don't want to kiss that person." 

"I'm just joking!" he whimpers like the overlarge puppy he is and you free him of his snare. Because you would die for this big, soppy boy and his big, soppy eyes. “You’re so grouchy today.”

‘The joke won’t land if it collides with the truth, Taehyung,’ you muse. You expect him to know this despite never having apprised him of your situation. You’re jealous and cowardly and completely unreasonable. You want him for yourself but you never want him to know that. 

If he wants your candour he should be a telepath. Simple.

Irritated by your own nonsense, you lash out at the unsuspecting boy. "You know what? I was joking, too. I remember Namjoon, he was hot. And smart. I think I'll cheat on my dating ban this once and bid on him. He has super nice lips, so." 

Taehyung simply smiles. "Oh, okay. Cool! Glad you’re gonna come along." 

Your threat proves ineffective because he doesn’t like you like that. Wouldn’t give a shit if Namjoon rawed you on stage while you stared him down. You stall on that thought because it’s kinda hot. “It’ll be great. Can’t wait to get my tongue down his throat.”

“Hell yeah! I knew you liked him.”

Yep, Taehyung is oblivious to your pining. As he should be. Because outwardly, your pining consists of nothing more than the odd, lingering look here and there. The balled-up sketches of him he will never see. A secret smile if you’re feeling particularly sentimental. Other than that, you're steely. Poker-faced. Rarely blind-sided by his allure, especially now that you've acclimated to his penchant for exhibitionism. 

 "Thank you in advance for your patronage." Rising from his seat, Taehyung comes to a stand behind you and leans. Encircles your shoulders with his terribly athletic arms and puts his lips to your ear. You're like a feral cat in the arms of a senseless child. You're bristling. "If he turns out to be a jerk and tries something he shouldn't, I'll protect you." For a moment, you're touched enough to unclench a little. "With these guns." And then you choke between his straining biceps and vie to repay him in kind.

----

The common room of Taehyung's dorm has been crudely transformed. Some questionable construction has taken place in order to build the catwalk centrepiece. Sofas and tables line the walls, thrust from the limelight. You've occupied the drinks table for the last 45 minutes, from the second you entered this place. You harbour an intense dislike for the chaotic energy of Taehyung's dorm. Machismo rages noisily between these walls and you much prefer less testosterone-drenched environments. Nevertheless, despite it all you're here on an endeavour this evening. One your idiot, rampant mouth has obligated you to. To buy time with a guy that's perfectly nice and all, but isn’t Taehyung.

Kim Namjoon makes eyes at you from the head of the runway, awaiting his musical cue. The beer you just slurped down bubbles up. You have to look away. Unfortunately, when you do, Taehyung is immediately there, his face in yours, his thumb and fingers pulling at your cheeks. "Hey you, don't get too drunk, okay? I don't trust a single man here. Especially not nice-as-pie Namjoon." 

Nice-as-pie Namjoon has chosen some Bruno Mars track by the sounds of it. The auction-goers' excitement ramps up considerably.

Unable to move your captured face, your eyes sweep the room. "Not even your own teammates?" you scoff cynically, swatting at his hands until he’s baited into a game of slapsies. "Now who sounds jealous?" 

Taehyung stops for a moment, thoughtful. "You know, you're right. I'm extremely jealous. I want Namjoon all to myself. He gives the best massages. And a happy ending when I ask nicely." And then he's back to rough-housing you, slapping your upper arms to alternating beats. "You look cute tonight. Your outfit, I mean," he offers up out of nowhere, so quiet you almost lose it to the bass. "He's lucky."

But you look exactly the same as you did earlier that day. Exactly the same as that afternoon in the cafeteria when he ribbed you for raiding Billie Eilish's Good Will donations. "Um, thanks. I guess." You're genuine, but don’t sound it. You can't look at him for fear of revealing the dopey grin that has hijacked your face.

"You're welcome, buddy." A large palm flattens your hair. His fingers get all in there, ruffling it until it probably looks more akin a bird's nest. Is Taehyung trying to sabotage you? Also, buddy? "Look, Namjoon's walking." 

You turn and see that he is. Strutting, moreover, albeit awkwardly. It's obvious that the lanky boy is unaccustomed to the same attention the team he services is. Nevertheless, there are whoops and hollers aplenty for the handsome blonde dork, and you, too, catch yourself smiling. How can you not, when he pokes at his dimples so? The others seem captivated, too, though less by the  finger-hearts and more by his form-fitting tracksuit. 

“I’d wrap my car around a tree if he was the tree,” one auction-goer confides to her friend. “And then I’d wrap my legs around—”

“Yeah, we get it Lisa.”

Lisa quiets. 

Namjoon’s endless legs sidle to a stop at the catwalk's end, directly opposite you. His bespectacled eyes meet your bespectacled eyes. For one, long second, the interest is palpable.  But then he breaks, and casts his gaze down to his FILAs. 

"Okay, he's, like, in love with you, I think," Taehyung whisper-yells, hands aflurry in applause. "Are you gonna bid?"

Shouts puncture the cheering either side of the room.

"$10!"

"$20!"

Neither of them are you.

The evening’s auctioneer - Taehyung's partner-in-slime Park Jimin - echoes each cry that rings out, giggling into a tinny karaoke mic. "$20 for our team physio?! Is that all you got ladies and gents? Do I have to remind you this guy can grope away pain with his magic hands?"

Namjoon spins toward Jimin's makeshift podium of an upturned bookcase and menaces him with his eyes. Well, it would be menacing were the man not as threatening as a ribbon-wrapped basket of newborn sloths.

The striker backpedals. "Okay, the massage might not be included, but don't let that deter you! He kisses like a pro!"

Screams of how do you know that, Jimin?! erupt and the throng grows ever more wild. Namjoon is redder than the cup you're strangling.

"Are you gonna bid?! You're gonna miss your chance!" For some reason Taehyung is still here, harassment game still strong. He should be preparing to walk next, but sees fit to pester you instead. And because of that, he's caught you in your lie, bare-faced and blushing.

No, you are not going to bid on Kim Namjoon.

"Uh, oh no, I forgot my purse," you grumble around the rim of your next drink, gulping it down like the bottom is your way out of this God-awful situation.

Then what are you doing here?

"It's right there." Taehyung pokes the cross-body bag hanging traitorously by your side.

"Oh, is it?" You reach for another cup even while burdened with one. Anything to sidetrack this conversation.

Taehyung intervenes with a firm hand. Swaddles your knuckles ‘til the shaking stops. You’re shaking? Beer slops over the sides, unnoticed. “___?”

Stupid, warm hand. And why are his fingers so fucking delicate for a footballer? He should model jewellery. Wedding rings.

Yours.

His ringless fingers close around your wrist when you persist in avoiding his gaze. The ruse is almost up. Fuck. There’s nothing left to do but to look at him. 

You do, ever so timidly. “What?”

"What are you doing?" Puzzlement becomes him well. Why is he so goddamn handsome? "If you aren't gonna bid on Namjoon, why did you come?"

Silence, but for the pump of background Bruno Mars.

‘You. I came for you. You were the plan all along. Not him,’ your mind screams.

You, however, just stare.

"Going—going—gone! Sold for $70! Come claim your kiss!" Jimin can hardly stop himself from squealing. For a guy that beds girls on the daily, his sincere excitement over simple lip-locking is amusing.

Taehyung's teammates hail him from the drapery behind the catwalk but he won't yet go. No, he insists on searing holes into the side of your face while you watch Namjoon get sloppy on-stage with some girl you don't know. They're really getting into it. Damn, he forgot about you quick. In  their fervour they edge towards the bounds of the catwalk, too absorbed in one another to notice. Thankfully, voyeuristic bystanders are on-hand to catch them before they fall.

"Kim Taehyung! How many times do I have to call you?! Get over here before I kick your fucking ass," Jungkook roars across the hubbub, halfway through the room. He  enacts the violent gesture for emphasis and knees some unsuspecting girl in the ass. Immediately the macho facade drops and he's all doe-eyed and buck-toothed, prostrating himself before the girl who actually seems grateful to have been assaulted by one Jeon Jungkook. Between his hushed apologies, Jungkook shoots Taehyung a look something murderous. And then he sees you and throws a shy wave, the kind a little kid might when cajoled by his parents.

"Ew." The word comes up involuntarily, like bile.

A deep cackle emanates from beside you. "Okay, guess I'm up." Taehyung squares his shoulders. His mouth, too. He's a very angular boy. "Better get my kit on. Cheer for me!" With a pat to your shoulder, he makes for Jungkook. Leaves you with an insidious dread. His soccer kit is your weakness. 

No, he is your weakness.

"Next up - and I'm sure most of you here tonight are anticipating this guy - our very own Team Captain and soon-to-be Major League Soccer player, Kim Taehyung!" Banshee-shrieking reverberates at Jimin's announcement. "Stick around, he'll be out in a few minutes!"

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. You turn from the catwalk and fully embrace the drinks table, supporting yourself with two hands and God's grace.

Nah, you aren't gonna do this.

No way.

This wasn’t an actual plan. Just a fantasy.

You're not gonna tell him like this.

You're not gonna tell him ever.

All you have to do is just say you turned out to support him. You rarely get to go out with him anyway, what with his ever-growing entourage. Taehyung would appreciate that, and he'd never have to know that you came here for cornier purposes.

You're not a big gesture kind of girl.

Nah, you aren't gonna do this.

Distantly, you wished Areum were here. She'd have slapped some sense into you, maybe even literally.

No. Wait.

The devious cow would've talked you into doing it. For sure. She has a flair for the dramatic.

"Sorry, can I just—thanks." Someone with offensively bony elbows bulldozes you aside and passes a drink to her companion. An apology is on the tip of your tongue but evaporates into the ether upon seeing the twosome in question. Both were complicit in the casual bullying you endured during your high school years. They don't appear to recognise you now. Not that they even spare your pitiful person a glance.

"Who's up next?" the worst one queries, cup snug to her bosom.

"Taehyung," the lackey answers, glee upending her petulant features. "Kim Taehyung."

An elbow jabs you again as the girl struggles with the clasp on her clutch. Her overlong claws impede her. "Oh shit, already? I thought we had more time. Shit."

"Nope. It's go time. Hurry up, girl, competition's gonna be fierce." The other one watches her digital acrobatics to get into her purse.

Oh God. She has so much money. There's no doubt in your mind she'll trump everyone present.

No. Oh, no.

Not her. Not with him.

Your mind flits through premonitions of the future. They’re all  rather grim. The last one is that of a wedding. A marriage between this dreadful bitch and your most cherished of friends, Taehyung. It's garish and tacky - she's denied him input, of course - and the ceremony is filled with faces that once mocked you mercilessly. None of Taehyung's friends are there; indeed, he is no longer even part of his team. Her possessiveness and his undying loyalty have put an end to his blossoming career. He looks sad beneath a mask of happy. Eyes that once blazed with the embers of ambition are doused by despondency. He is a husk.

And their first meeting is this auction, this cute anecdotal encounter of oh, I just had to have him, and when I kissed him I knew.

Just a glimpse at this dystopian future disturbs you silly. Conviction, while tentative, burgeons in your heart.

You can't let her have him. Anyone but this noxious cunt.

And suddenly you've money in hand, too. Bills you withdrew specifically for this purpose, and yet would sooner have left them crisp and cold in your purse than followed through. But public humiliation is endlessly preferable to damning Taehyung to a kiss with this serpent. Because it won't stop there. It won't just be a kiss but an appeal for more. She’ll say it’s no strings attached, but she doesn't attach strings. She weaves webs. You recall her high school boyfriend. He was a well-performing, jovial guy that always waved hi. And she consumed him, heart-first, ‘til he was naught but a sunken-eyed zombie. He took a leave of absence that never ended.

Sexy, dangerous synth sounds from the speakers either side the catwalk. Ah, shit. Not that song. Any song but that one. NCT U’s Baby Don’t Stop. Of course Taehyung picked that. It fills the air with a fatal drum beat and in he comes through the curtains, strutting like he is the rhythm. The room, rather than become uproarious, falls eerily quiet. Everyone breathes as one entranced being, and no one moves but him. Halfway down the catwalk he body-rolls with the fluidity of wind-rippled satin, burgeoning from his chest and snapping at the hips. Prospective bidders gasp, as do you. And then his thumb is in the hem of his shirt, luring it upwards, exposing his olive expanses inch by mouthwatering inch. You see his abs near every day, but in this context, backed by that song, you find yourself as winded as everyone else. His stomach tautens for show, feeding into loose-waisted shorts that sit far too low. Even you haven’t been privy to this much. And especially not the alluring trail of hair that thickens at his waistband.

Someone shatters the stupor and screams, “$80!”

“Geez, you’re a horny bunch.” Jimin’s laughter peals. “We already have $80. Any advance on—“

“$100!” Some breathless sap cries next. “Oh my God, look at his thighs!”

And look you do. Taehyung grooves at the catwalk’s end, shirt back in place but hiking up the hems of his shorts instead.  You almost glimpse groin. He’s absolutely shameless, straining the muscles of his thighs until they’re lewdly pronounced. They’re veritable tree trunks. His calves, too, defy belief. Rock-hard and rounded and begging to be bitten. The party-goers crowding round his feet must think similarly. 

What distracts you most, however, are Taehyung’s straying fingers. They skirt his crotch in a salacious manner, stretching the material where it shouldn’t. Accentuating things they shouldn’t. You may pass out.

All the while his eyes are down, maybe closed. You want to see his face more than anything. The playful smirk on his plump, wet lips and the focus in his brows. 

“$120!!” You almost lose your head to a cash-strangling fist beside you.

It's her. Pointy-elbowed bitch.

But you aren't thrusting your student loan up just yet. You're in the middle of an almost holy, revelatory experience. Taehyung is still undulating and provoking the crowd, who are no longer hushed but whooping like chimps in heat. His shirt is off and helicoptering overhead. He allows one overcome girl at the sidelines to verify the thew of his biceps and bags himself another bid. You, however, do nothing but gawp, bills clutched to your chest and your eyes affixed to the glorious grin that breaks across his face. His eyes open onto you and then it's you you see at his wedding, standing afore him, bouquet instead of a wad of cash. You want to be the one. Now is the moment, while he's watching you envision this.

"$200,” you splutter. Volume is difficult when your voice is a quivering inconstant.

"What was that? Did we just get another bid?" Jimin wavers too, out of disbelief. "Did someone say $200?!"

The room is a clamour of confusion but Taehyung watched you mouth the very syllables. The shock is such that it softens his salacious movements to a dance more modest. His eyes are wider than you've ever seen them; mouth too. It hangs agape and downturned, as yours does. Because you're not quite sure whether you said something else altogether. Maybe you hurled a cuss word out of frustration? Did you momentarily black out and proclaim Hitler did nothing wrong? Nothing else can account for the scrutiny with which he punishes you with now.

Or.

You actually did bid, and that's why he's walking over, to the very drop-off of the catwalk, no longer any swagger to his step. "What are you doing?" he calls down, the music still strong and now strangely inappropriate. You simply watch the mole beneath his bottom lip move, dumb.

Louder, now, you call again. "$200!"

"Oh! It was a bid! ____?!" The flame-haired MC shares his puzzlement with the rest of the reacting room. All heads turn toward you.

But yours turns nowhere but Taehyung, your expression an open book of long-hidden liking. You watch, suspended by dissociation, as he lays a palm flat against his chest. "Me?"

It could all still be explained away. A joke. You drank too much. You just wanted to see the look on his face. Instead, you grant him the minutest of nods. A simple tip of the chin. "You," you whisper, whether it's heard or not.

Taehyung sees it in the shape your lips make. And then his gaze sweeps back upward, his chest heaving far too much for a man standing stationary.

"What's going on?" The disgruntled echo each other.

Jimin is quick to make sense of things and keep it rolling. "Okay, so, a bid of $200! Anyone else?"

A new song comes on; it's gone on too long. Something with a cantering beat that's adequately sentimental.

So if love is nothing more than just a waste of your time—

Clambering atop the platform, you counter someone's desperate bid of $220 with a measured breath. "$250." You hold Taehyung at fingerpoint. "You."

Waste it on me.

For a pants-shitting second, nothing happens. Your outstretched arm gains a tremor that could crumble it. Taehyung sifts your soul with his big, dewy eyes and then he's walking. Stalking toward you. Knocks the money from your hands and seizes your shying face with both of his. The last thing you see is his nose mole before his mouth joins with yours. His grip is like a vice and his lips are no gentler. They pry you open with little effort and then you're flooded with wet heat. Taehyung is insatiable in pursuit of your tongue. His hands drop to draw in your waist, your chest, every inch of your overclothed form. He's underclothed but burning hot, planes of honed skin beneath your fingertips. It's all so right. Feels so good. Taehyung moans that much into you when he chances a breath of air. Applause starts up as the music swells. It's so cliche but you've never had a cliche of your own before and your gloom-ridden ass needs this.

"Going—"

"I didn't know. I wish I had. This would've happened sooner," Taehyung gasps between desperate, too-short smooches. It proves too difficult to resist the pull of your mouth and he captures it again, sloppier. Slower.

"Going—"

"It doesn't matter." You pull the oxygen in, impatient. "Doesn't matter." Your fingers are a tangle at the nape of his neck, tugging on his lustrous locks. "Make up for it."

"Gone! Sold for $250!"

The two of you won't be parted for a moment. Not even when dismounting the platform. There's ruckus around you but it's so distant when his lips are on you. You sink into him like you would a scalding bath. "You don't have to pay that," Taehyung tells your cheek, smearing his saliva-slick mouth back to yours. His greed for you manifests against your stomach, and you ache in return. "This is a freebie."

Your passionate clinch takes you to the sidelines, away from prying eyes. Most of them, anyway. "What about this?" Your hands are suddenly in unseemly places.

"Th-That's also free. Everything's free. Oh, God."

[voltagesmutter]

Kiro x MC - Uniform

Pairing: Kiro x MC (F).

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice.

Prompt:  Master || Lapdance|| Uniform

Warning: Playful sex, slight dirty talk, Kiro just being a horny boi, internal cum-shot.

Surprise post for @alloveroliver​​ kinktober🎃

Thank you @theinariakuma​​ for being wonderful and beta-ing (again) I owe you so much 💛

Loveland’s military holiday was approaching fast and excitement buzzed through the city. A national holiday that was celebrated for all, a day where all appreciation was sent out to the troops and army. And this year, international superstar Kiro was showing his support with a new music video where all profits went to supporting the families who were part of the army.

It was a big day event that required every single team member to be on top form. The video was very hushed, Kiro not wanting to pull any attention away from the day itself during the build up. Filming would take place in one day on a set, Kiro even managing to wrangle his girlfriend, his beloved Miss.Chips, a spot on the promotion poster as a 50’s pin-up doll. Of course she was flattered to the highest point that Kiro had wanted her rather than a real model, Kiro’s exact words ‘They have nothing compared to your beauty Miss.Chips’. 

So when they arrived, in separate cars to eliminate any suspicion from the hungry, loitering press, on the morning of the shoot she never expected to be whisked away into hair and make up first thing. Her hair curled into loose waves, her fringe pinned back and held in place by a khaki green, small-side cap. Her lips painted with a bold red and a strong black line on her eyes to accentuate her facial features. A skin tight blouse with short sleeves was tucked into a pleated skirt the same colour of her cap, touching just below her mid-thighs whilst a belt brought in the illusion of her always petite waist. Stockings ran up to the edge of her knees, green heels placed on to her feet. A red cravat nestled beneath the collar of her shirt. A true vision of elegance with a sensual touch. 

Kiro found himself utterly distracted as he watched her pose a top of the prop tank that had been made for the shoot. Sitting on it with one knee raised, giving a teasing peak of her skin as the skirt rose up. Her hand in a salute position with a beaming smile on her face. Breathtaking was all he could think.

However she found herself just as distracted by him. A similar style green to the outfit she was wearing clung to him, a button up jacket laced with a gold chain that connected to a sweeping cape, a black buckle belt tightly around his waist. Tight trousers down to his ankle, gold embroidment across the outfit and a lieutenants cap was perfectly placed on his sunshine blonde hair. Power, dominance but most important patriotism radiated from him. Capturing the room as he strided in with a few striking steps. His eyes meeting hers from across the room, the sexual tension between them already pulsing and visible. 

She watched from the side as he paraded across the set, a strong sense of dignity and loyalty packed into the words he was singing. Maturity twisted into a new sense of him. One that suited him. Her eyes fixed on him, flushing slightly during in between takes as Kiro would shoot her a lust filled look or a cheeky wink. Looks that sent arousal straight down to her core and left her panties uncomfortably wet.

-

“You look so beautiful, I can’t believe I pushed to let you do this, this,” A hand ran up her thigh, under her skirt to cup the barely covered round of her ass, “Should be just for me,”.  Kiro appeared from behind causing a little gasp to fall from her mouth. He’d snuck off the set to where she stood watching, pressing himself to her back as he whispered lowly in her ear.

“I can assure you, that this only belongs to you sir,” Her voice wavering slightly as he pinched on her cheeks. A low chuckle masking a groan against her neck, the teasing press of her hips back against his groin. 

“God your making it so hard to keep sight of what I’m doing,” Pressing kisses to her neck, moving both of his hands to hold her waist. The pair hidden from view in the corner of the room, the rest of the cast and crew too busy in changing the set and prompts. “You know, we have about 7 minutes until I’m needed back on set,”.

She turned, her eyes meeting his blazoned ones, lust and need emitting from both of them. 

“Have I told you how much I love a man in uniform?” Pressing her hands to his chest, throwing her head over her shoulder for a quick scan of the room, realising no one was watching them as she slid her hands down to press over the hidden bulge in his trousers. A final check from both of them before they headed off quickly hand in hand down an empty corridor, heading in the direction of the prop room, knowing they would have less chance of being disturbed in there. 

Pulling her tightly to him, kick the door shut behind him as their lips locked. Perfectly pressed red lipstick now smearing over his lips as he tilted her head back to angle the kiss. Her hands already resuming position over his crotch- it had been rapidly hardening the minute he saw her in that outfit. 

He stood proud watching as she pulled back, just about to drop to her knees, her hands already working to undo his belt. His fingers catching her chin to keep standing, “No, I want, I need to be inside you Miss.Chips,”.

Kiro had no doubt she could bring him to a release with just her mouth in under the time they had, she’d done it it many of times before. His favourite when he was on his tour and had three minutes between stage set swaps, her mouth around his cock as she sucked him to completion with only a few seconds left to spare before he had to run back out to a crowd of fans.

"I normally wouldn't mind... But all I want to do is fuck your pretty face." His voice was low, raspy. "And with only five minutes... They'll notice if I ruin all this hard work for your makeup. So we'll save that for after."

Holding her waist he hoisted up into the air, pressing her back against the wall as her legs automatically locked around his waist. 

“You're so wet already Miss.Chips,” His voice huskier than normal as he prodded the wet stained material of her panties, directly beneath her core.

“Kiro… Kiro please,” She whispered, one arm holding onto the back of his neck whilst the other pushed his teasing fingers aside to move her underwear out of the way. “I need you, I need you so badly,”. Her voice was full of desperation, a needing plea as she lost herself into the sky-blue of his eyes. 

“Let me just-“ Pressing a finger to her, ready to sink into her but her hand tugged it away.

“Fuck me, Kiro please just fuck me,” Time was hastily running out.

Her words caused something inside him to snap, primal and urgent needs taking over as let out a low growl. Holding her waist still his other hand freed himself, spitting onto his hand as he coaxed himself with a few pumps before pressing against her. Rather than thrusting up, he pulled her down to be impaled onto his cock, a grin on his face to watch her back arch and a hand to cover her mouth shielding the wanton moans that would have flooded the room.

Kiro let a sly smirk cross his features, "So that's what you want? Don't worry Miss Chips, I'll fuck you so good. You won't be able to think straight when we have to get back out there... But don't worry. I'll make sure to reward you once we get home for being such a good girl." He bounced her with his impressive-strength, one that he rarely used showing his utter need, over his cock whilst he thrusted into her. Time working against them, the seconds counting down fast as Kiro pounded her into the wall. His lips attached to her neck whilst his thumb dropped down to circle tightly over her clit in time to his thrusts. The motion bringing on her orgasm fast and hard, with fair little warning as her walls spasmed over him. A lightly string of curses fell from her mouth, jaw slackened as she tossed the hat off his head to ground herself with one hand tugging at his hair. 

“Kiro-Kiro! Too much..I-” She whimpered, the hand on the back of his head digging her nails into his scalp whilst the other curled into a fist and slammed the solid wall against her. His movements never ceasing, the thumb over her clit continuing to circle the hyper-senstive flesh.

"I know I'm being greedy, Miss Chips... But I need another...".

"A-another?" Her voice, heavy and thick with pleasure and confusion until his actions answered her. “Oh fuck Kiro!” Head thrown back as Kiro threw her head first into another orgasm, walls tightening and pulling him deeply back into her every time he thrusted. Her efforts to keep quiet failed, Kiro holding a complacent grin to see how undone and unraveled she had become and it was all because of him. 

Her release brought on his own as her muscles pulsed over him, his lips crashing down on hers to capture the moans of both of them. An attempt to keep their noise to a minimum, her cries of pleasure would have lured more attention than he’d have liked secretly praying no one, Savin, heard them. 

“I got you baby, I got you,” He whispered between kisses, pulling his thumb away from her clit as her after-shocks and trembles eased. Both her hands grasping onto his shoulders, mixed breathes struggling to regain their normality as they stilled in their position. Both of them savouring the blissful feeling of their afterglow for a few seconds before he finally pulled his softened cock out of her. A thick trail of their mixed releases slowly leaked from her abused hole, Kiro moving her underwear in place to try keep it from spreading across her thighs. Although the top of them were purely soaked with messy arousal, the scent of sex dancing across her lower half. 

“Good girl Miss.Chips,” Kiro continued to kiss her softly as he put her legs down on the ground, they were still trembling as she continued to cling to him for support. He thumbed under her eyes to wipe the small trail of mascara that collected on her skin from her watery eyes, wiping them over her mouth to remove the smudge of her rouge lips and helped sort out their outfits. He grabbed his hat she had thrown off of him, taking his hand in hers before guiding them to leave the prop room, a low whisper as he told her, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep all my promises for being such a good girl, I promise I’ll make you scream as soon as we’re finished here.” 

Kinktober masterlist here.

[marauders-venting]

i wanna be yours

pairing: dorlene (dorcas x marlene)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

words: 2122

note: inspired by the songs ‘I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE’ by Måneskin and ‘i wanna be your girlfriend’ by girl in red

a/n: this is my first muggle au which is pretty exciting!! (it’s set at hogwarts but its a non-magical boarding school). also i love both of these songs so i kept listening to them as i was trying to write this and it was very distracting

“Marls, come on, duet with me,” Sirius begged. “What’s the point of karaoke if people don’t hear our angelic voices singing together?”

“Yeah, Marlene, go sing with Sirius,” Dorcas encouraged.

“Fine,” Marlene sighed, standing up. “But I have one condition: Dorcas has to sing a song as well.” Marlene crossed her arms, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she looked at Dorcas.

“Fine, it’s your funeral,” Dorcas said, shrugging. “Now go sing.”

“What are we singing, Siri?” Marlene asked.

‘I swear to god, Marlene, if you call me ‘Siri’ one more time—”

“You’re making me sing,” she interrupted. “I can call you whatever the fuck I want.”

“But it’s literally the name of an app—”

“Siri isn’t an app,” Remus said, not looking up from his phone. “It’s software that’s part of the iOS operating system. You don’t have to download an app to use it; it’s built into the software of your phone.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” Sirius said. “Moony, stop being so anti-social and come sing with us.” Remus looked up from his phone.

“Do you really expect me to sing?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Fine then, don’t sing,” Sirius said. “Just come hear me sing.”

“Fine,” Remus said, but he smiled and joined Dorcas on the couch in front of what Sirius had clearly marked as his stage. “And I wasn���t being anti-social I was reading.”

“Reading is not socialising,” Lily said. “And since when do you read on your phone?”

“Since my favourite fanfic author updated their fic on ao3 and I’m too lazy to go get my computer.”

“Ok, ok me and Marlene are singing now so hush,” Sirius said.

“You still haven’t told me what we’re singing,” Marlene said, standing next to Sirius with her arms crossed.

“You’ll find out in a second,” Sirius said, scrolling through his playlist and selecting a song.

“I’m concerned,” Marlene said, trying to look over Sirius’ shoulder but he held his phone at an awkward angle so she wouldn’t be able to see. “At least pick a song that I know then.”

“Don’t worry you definitely know this song.” And then the song I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE by Måneskin came on the speaker and a grin spread across Marlene’s face as she and Sirius started to sing.

“I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master. I wanna make your heartbeat run like rollercoasters. I wanna be good boy, I wanna be your gangster, cause you could be the beauty and I could be the monster. I love you since this morning not just for aesthetic, I wanna touch your body so fucking electric…” Sirius winked at Remus, who blushed and bit his lip. Somebody wolf-whistled and Dorcas turned to find James and Peter laughing and Lily jabbing James in the ribs. Her eyes wandered back to Marlene, who was really getting into the song.

“And I’m a blond girl who’s searching for redemption—” at this, Marlene pulled the elastic out of her hair and shook it out. “And I’m a freak that is searching, Imma motherfucking monster who’s searching for redemption!” Marlene and Sirius started jumping around, hair flying, limbs flailing, laughing when they accidentally slapped each other. Marlene threw her hands in the air and her shirt lifted, exposing an inch of bare skin. Dorcas caught a flash of her belly button ring and the dragon tattoo that they knew started on Marlene’s hip and reached up to her waist. She looked away and swallowed hard. Dorcas knew that seeing this shouldn’t have any effect on them but why did Marlene have to be so gorgeous?

“I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master.” They whispered the last line and Marlene’s eyes met Dorcas’. She smiled, her cheeks turning a faint pink before looking away, her blond hair falling into her face. Dorcas felt their heart racing in her chest but thought nothing of it. Her heartbeat always quickened when Marlene smiled at them.

“Oh my god, I love that song,” Marlene said, flopping onto the couch next to Dorcas. She turned to Sirius. “I thought you were going to pick some weird, shitty song that I hate.”

“I was going to,” Sirius admitted, “but my desire to sing a Måneskin song was greater than my desire to piss you off.”

“As it should be,” Marlene says.

“You guys were actually really good,” Dorcas says. They knew that both Marlene and Sirius could sing but she wasn’t sure this song was quite the style that suited their voices. Apparently, it was exactly their style.

“Obviously,” Sirius said, one hand now slung around Remus’ shoulders.

“Thanks, Dorcas,” Marlene said, smiling at her again. Dorcas felt the familiar flutter in their stomach. “Ok, I sang, now it’s your turn.”

“Ugh, Marly, don’t make me do this,” Dorcas groaned. “You know I can’t sing.”

“First of all, yes you can; I’ve heard you. Second of all, who cares?” Marlene said. “We had a deal, now go sing.”

“I hate you,” they said.

“Love you too, Dorcas,” Marlene smirked. Dorcas felt like she was being stabbed and getting butterflies all at once. Because Marlene loved them. They didn’t doubt that. It was true. But there was no way that Marlene loved her in the same way that they loved Marlene. And the thought of that made Dorcas die inside.

She couldn’t keep going like this. Being around Marlene all the time, pretending that they’re not desperately in love with her. And Marlene not knowing. That was the worst part.

Dorcas told Marlene everything. Marlene was the one person that Dorcas shared all her secrets with, all her problems and her worries. And Marlene always knew how to help them. She could make Dorcas feel better even if she couldn’t solve their problems. Marlene was Dorcas’ first friend at Hogwarts. She was the first person that Dorcas had come out to and vice versa. She was the person who had helped Dorcas experiment with different pronouns and genders before they found what felt right. Marlene meant everything to Dorcas. But Dorcas had been keeping a secret from Marlene for months now. This was one problem that Dorcas was sure Marlene couldn't help her with. But Dorcas couldn’t pretend any longer. And besides, Marlene deserved to know.

So when Sirius handed them his phone to play her song, Dorcas picked a song she knew she would regret. They already did. But she was going to do this anyway. She picks the original version of the song, not the karaoke version. This way at least if they sound bad, girl in red will mask the sound with her voice.

She takes the fake plastic microphone and stands up in front of all their friends. As the music starts playing from the speaker, their eyes meet Marlene’s, who smiles and gives her an encouraging nod. Dorcas smiles back sadly, knowing that this was probably the last time Marlene would look at them like that, smile shining, eyes sparkling. Beautiful. So, so beautiful. Dorcas keeps her eyes locked on Marlene’s and starts to sing.

“Oh Hannah, I wanna feel you close. Oh Hannah, come lie with my bones. Oh Hannah, don’t look away. Oh Hannah, just look at me the same.” Dorcas hadn’t taken their eyes off Marlene but Marlene wasn’t looking away either. She wondered if Marlene knew that they were singing about her. Dorcas tried to convey her thoughts to Marlene through their expression.

“I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips. I wanna kiss you until I lose my breath. I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips. I wanna kiss you until I lose my breath.” Marlene raised her eyebrows slightly, asking the question with her eyes. Dorcas gave the tiniest nod. She was tempted to look away, to spare themselves from having to see Marlene’s reaction. But they didn’t. She kept her eyes locked on Marlene’s and sang.

“Oh Hannah, tell me something nice. Like flowers and blue skies. Oh Hannah, I will follow you home. Although my lips are blue and I’m cold. I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips. I wanna kiss you until I lose my breath.” Marlene was still staring at her, lips parted in surprise. It could not have been plainer that Dorcas was singing to Marlene. They felt their heart pound in her chest. Marlene knows. And she’s not looking away in disgust. Her cheeks are flushed but she doesn’t look uncomfortable or angry. She just looks shocked. Dorcas thinks the anticipation might kill her but they’re determined to finish the song. Determined to tell Marlene exactly how they feel.

“I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna be your bitch. And I wanna touch you but not like this.” Dorcas feels herself blushing as they sing the words and for the first time in the whole song, they close their eyes, breaking eye contact with Marlene. When Dorcas opens her eyes again, they see Marlene standing up. She seems as surprised to find herself on her feet as Dorcas is.

“The look in your eyes, my hand between your thighs—” The words die in Dorcas’ throat as they feel lips on hers. Marlene is kissing her. Marlene is kissing her. Her lips are soft, her touch gentle and unsure but Dorcas feels electric currents running through her veins as Marlene’s thumb brushes their cheek and reaches into their hair. And all the while, girl in red keeps singing in the background. Oh, this can’t be real, it’s all just a dream. But it is real. They’re kissing for real. And Dorcas’ hand is on Marlene’s waist for real. And their hips are touching for real. I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips. I wanna kiss you until I lose my breath. When they break apart, Dorcas is breathless. She keeps her eyes closed until they feel Marlene take her hand. They open their eyes and see Marlene, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright, a smile tugging at her pink lips.

“Were you— was that supposed to be— were you singing… to me?” Marlene stuttered. Dorcas nods.

“And I meant it,” they said, caressing Marlene’s cheek with her thumb. “I meant every word I sang.” Marlene rested her forehead against Dorcas’ and she closed their eyes again. Marlene squeezed Dorcas’ hand and held it against her abdomen. Dorcas tilted their chin down and kissed Marlene again, her hand rubbing Marlene’s stomach. Marlene sighed and suddenly Dorcas became very aware of the fact that all of their friends were watched them. She stepped back and Marlene turned around. They both blushed but Dorcas couldn’t keep the smile off their face. Lily caught her eye and gave them a thumbs-up, which only made Dorcas smile more. Sirius was smirking at Marlene.

“I told you so,” he said.

“I will kick you,” Marlene threatened. She took Dorcas by the hand and pulled them out of the common room.

They went down to the lake and took off their socks and shoes. They sat quietly for a while, their feet dangling in the water.

“I can’t believe…” Marlene started, breaking the silence, “I mean, this whole time we liked each other and neither one of us said anything.”

“Well, I sang just now,” Dorcas said defensively.

“You were amazing by the way,” Marlene said, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together. “Your voice is beautiful. I told you you can sing.” Dorcas shrugged.

“Sing something for me,” Marlene whispered. “Please.”

“I don’t wanna be your friend.” Dorcas sang the words quietly, slower than the tune of the song. They tucked a strand of Marlene’s hair behind her ear. “I wanna kiss your lips.” She pulled Marlene in slowly by the back of her neck and fitted their mouths together. Her hand finds Marlene’s waist and they pull her closer. Marlene’s hand is on Dorcas’ thigh drawing small circles with her finger. Dorcas sighs and she feels the smile form in Marlene’s mouth as they slide their tongue into her mouth.

When they finally break apart, they flop onto the grass and look at the night sky, littered with stars. Marlene turns to face Dorcas, propped up on her elbow.

“So what do you say?” she asks. “Can I be your girlfriend?” Dorcas laughs.

“You even have to ask?” they say. “Yes, you can be my girlfriend. But there’s one condition,” she adds, smiling mischievously. Now it’s Marlene’s turn to laugh.

“Oh? What’s that?”

“I wanna be yours,” Dorcas says.

“Hmm, let me think about that,” Marlene says, sarcastically, but she smiles at Dorcas and squeezes their hand. “Yes, Dorcas,” she says quietly, “you can be mine.” And Marlene kisses her.

[mollygetssherlockcoffee]

Cutie

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Summary: While out with the Team, Spencer is made to feel unworthy because of his cane so Y/N tries to reassure him

Warning: Self-hate/doubt, discrimination, bit of fluff

Words: 1,518

A/N: I saw a post about S5 Spencer with his cane and I just had to write something!

Master List HERE     Permanent Tag List HERE 

The music was loud, the beat travelling through the seat and vibrating through your bones. The lights flashed overhead, the spotlight swinging across the dance floor as a mass of people jump to the music.

You lean back in your seat, holding your drink to your chest as you take a sip. You laugh as you watch Derek and Penelope dance, Derek spinning her round before pulling her in close with a huge smile on his face. Your eyes trail over to the bar, checking on Emily but she seems to be fine, smiling and chatting with a pretty blonde. JJ and Will, who had got a babysitter to look after little Henry, sat huddled together with Will whispering in JJ’s ear as she bit her straw. You quickly looked away; you loved those two but honestly… you didn’t not want to know.

 Your eyes are drawn to Spencer, the sound of him sliding his glass of coke onto the table catching your attention. He looked thoroughly uncomfortable in the seat next to you, his eyes trailing over the club, his right hand playing with cane.

 Spencer hardly went out with the team, and this was the first time he had been out since he was shot. When out on ‘team nights’ you often stayed with Spencer. While you enjoyed going out for casual drinks, you did not enjoy the clubbing scene. While your friends danced and chatted up someone who fit their tastes, you and Spencer would sit in a booth, watch their drinks and talk about whatever nonsense came to mind.

 Tonight was different. Spencer seemed to be more uncomfortable than usual. On an ordinary night, he would be tense for the first hours before relaxing into conversation with you, his eyes flitting over to your friends to ensure they were okay. On this occasion, after being in the club for nearly two and a half hours, Spencer was not settled.

 “What’s wrong?” you ask him, leaning towards him so that he could hear you.

“I…I’m just going to go” he sighed, looking around awkwardly. “People are looking at me.”

You looked at his face for a moment and he flashed his eyes over to a small group. You followed his clue, eyes landing on a group of women who were looking at him. You looked back at Spencer, playful tracing your finger along his jaw, “Of course they’re looking at you, Spence, you’re a cutie.”

“It’s not actually me they’re looking at, Y/N, it’s the leg, the cane, that’s got their attention” he gives a small nod back to the group.

 You look back over at them and actually take notice this time. They were only a few tables down from you, so you could see their eyes, even in the low lighting. Your smile dropped. Two of the girls were still looking over at your table and you could see their eyes were focused on Spencer, their gaze taking in his walking cane. One of the other girls in the group is talking to the group, but her face is at an angle where you can just make out her lips.

 “As if he’s actually come here with a cane, what the fuck? What’s he getting at?”

 If you could make out the words, Spencer definitely could. He was a much better lip reader than you.

 You drop your glass onto the table and push your chair backwards. “Hey, JJ, Spence and I are gonna go. It’s getting late and he promised to take me for breakfast tomorrow.”

JJ paused mid giggle, turning away from Will. “Okay, Y/N, we’ll see you Monday?”

“Yeah,” you smile before turning to Spencer. “Come on, cutie, home time.”

 To leave the club, you have to pass the group of women. You stay close by Spencer’s side in a show of support, your hand gently resting on his back as you make your way outside. On your way past, your eyes meet those of the woman that spoke. You give her your best glare and it clearly works as she quickly looks away.

 Once outside, you led Spencer to your car. You only ever drank lemonade on nights out, ensuring that you sober enough to drive home. Normally, you drove most of the team home but Will was here tonight and he hadn’t been drinking, he could ferry people back.

 “You can stay at mine tonight, cutie, I can’t not be bothered to drive the extra ten minutes” you told him, reaching your car.

“Can you stop calling me that” Spencer sighed.

“What, cutie? Why?” you asked, turning to face him. “I thought you liked it when I used nicknames?”

“I do but not…not that one” he replied, shaking his head. “I’m not cute. I’m awkward and now, I’ve got a messed-up leg. I might not be able to walk without a cane ever again and what would that mean for my job? The FBI won’t want an agent who can’t even support their own weight. Did you know, disabled individuals have to apply for sixty per cent more jobs than non-disabled people before they get a job? Not to mention the fact, people obvious don’t like that I’m using a cane. I wasn’t the most attractive anyway but now? With this cane? I get comments like the one from that girl. And worse.”

 You stood there in silence for a moment, just staring at the man before you. Was that really what he thought? Oh god, please no. Your eyes focused on him, the way he looked back at you with such sadness, fear and pain, his chest heaving at his outburst. You took a step closer to him, your hand going to hold his arm gently.

“Spence, no, you can’t think that about yourself” you shook your head. “Yeah, you can be awkward but hey, so can everyone at times. Its actually really endearing. You got injured in the line of duty, when saving a mans life… that’s incredible. I mean, I’m not happy you got hurt, but you know…” you gave an awkward shrug. He gave a soft snort at your words, shaking his head but you could see the tiny smile. “And your job is being a profiler. You don’t have to go round literally chasing unsubs to be a profiler, I mean, the FBI already made an exception to let you in the field anyway. You’re almost as bad as me when it comes to foot chases and that’s saying something. Remember when I tripped over that rock while chasing Markowitz?”

 You both laughed for a moment, remember that day in Ohio. You’d been chasing the unsub when you’d tripped and fell straight over. Spencer had stopped to help you, checking out your grazes while Derek and JJ had continued in the pursuit of Markowitz.

 “Anyway,” you shook you head, smiling fondly at the memory. “You can still do your job without being in the field, and you’re proved that already. Plus, you’re the best profiler the FBI has ever seen. They’d be crazy to get rid of you, and you know what? I wouldn’t let them. We need you, the team needs you, the whole country does. And that statistic? That’s a statistic for discrimination. Their asses should be beat, and you know it. Also, I’m not going to stop calling you ‘cutie’. You’re cute, Spence, you’d have to be blind not to see it. Cane or no cane, long hair or short, glasses or no glasses, sharp suit or your little cardigans… you’re a complete cutie. Honestly, I don’t understand why you think you’re so unattractive because honey, I don’t see it. Honestly, you should look at yourself because da-”

 Your words are cut off as an arm wraps around your waist and your pulled into his chest. Your eyes widen as Spencer presses his lips against yours. Your frozen in shock, unable to move, to respond, as he kisses you.

 Had you dreamed of this before? Sure, but you never thought it would happen. Spencer Reid was a very attractive man. He was tall with curly brown hair and a one-hundred-watt smile. He was kind and generous, thoughtful and sweet. In all honesty, he was the pack deal.

 You’d harboured a crush on him for a while now. His laugh made your stomach flutter, his smile warmed your insides. You found yourself paying even more attention to his spirals of information, though you had always paid attention anyway. Your eyes were drawn to his hands – oh those mouth-watering hands!

 While you had a thing for him, you had no idea that he felt anything more than friendship towards you.

 Spencer pulled back, his hands dropping from your waist as his eyes widened. He seemed shocked by his own behaviour while simultaneously fearful of your reaction. “Oh my god, Y/N, I’m so sorry!”

“Shut up” you order, grasping him by the shirt and pulling his lips down to meet yours again.

 Yes, Spencer Reid with a cane was just as good as Spencer Reid without a cane. What were those women thinking?

[round1addict01]

My experience on Apex Legends Mains:

This is just my experience, I can't speak for everyone since people have different experiences and opinions towards certain mains. This is for laughs and fun. Nothing serious and just stupid thoughts. Will go by alphabetical order!

Bangalore:

Really aggressive and quick to run in. Pretty good aim and for some reason the first one to be shot at. I hear her voice saying she's been hit at multiple times before anyone else. Sometimes can't wait for the team to catch up and end up being downed fairly quickly. Uses smokes for the rez but they do it at the wrong place. Forget that they are in the open when rezzing. Pretty slippery to kill due to their passive. Uses their Ultimate anywhere... even when the enemy team can easily go indoors... Overall, they're pretty solid teammates.

Bloodhound:

These feral people I swear to god-. A wild card when teamed up with. Unpredictable and most of the time exceed expectations. Will use Beast of the Hunt when the fight starts but the fight lasts 20s. *HEAVY BREATHING*. Uses scan on places that are empty just in case but then alerts people nearby. Wants to land in densely populated areas. I enjoy their company and they're pretty good at what they work with.

Caustic:

The one teammate who will block entrances with their gas traps. Hell breaks loose when there's 2 in a fight. Teammates are annoyed at them when in an enclosed space. Second most often to rage quit. Will stick traps onto the trident as the one driving will have to cross their fingers that no one shoots them. Will miss their ultimate, no where close to the enemies. Satisfying to play as and a piece of shit to play against. Ironically the most serious legend has the most hilarious moments.

Crypto:

This bad boy... is covered in traps or punched by teammates to a new location for laughs. Underrated. Super helpful but no one notices him. Teammates flock around him and t-bag until he gets back. Will most likely be around Mirage mains for the banter. Will hide behind a rock instead of being inside a building. Hearing the "wrrrrr" of his drone induces anxiety. They know this and try to mess with you. Shooting the drone and failing always gives them the ">:3". Please give these mains the attention they deserve.

Gibraltar:

I love them. They can slam my back and I'd thank them. That being said... they need to be more aware of their surroundings. They have really awful timing when it comes to rezzing. Sometimes forget that his shield is not as invincible and can be passed through. Dies while rezzing. The most protective and supportive teammate. Also really friendly. Praise them because they will die for you. *small smooch to the cheek for gibby mains*

Horizon:

"We can all use a pick me up" heard 99.999% of the match. Love to be on the high ground. Really pleasant to listen to her voice. Seen most often in teams now. Experimenting new strategies. People are still getting used to her so not much to say at the moment. Sweet people with the will to help teammates.

Lifeline:

Tries their best to be helpful but their kit is used poorly. Uses the shield from D.O.C. to fight instead of finding cover to help rez. Speaking of rez, the one being rezzed will be downed again and again until the enemy finally puts down their misery. Will lose the fight when the rez isn't finished and the person gets killed. Most likely to get pissed when another teammate rezzes downed players. Healing during a fight will result in being found and getting blasted with bullets. Will complain when they don't get the loot. Asks for the loot you have so they can later die with it.

Loba:

Queen of getting away. Bracelet is loud enough to attract enemies and they're not aware of this sometimes. Once the black market open you gotta look all areas just in case an enemy team sees or hears the outline. Will open black market 90% of the match no matter where they are. Never deactivates their black market. I have never ever seen it happen. Revenant and Bangalore mains will most likely be teamed up with her. Really helpful teammates and generous when it comes to loot.

Mirage:

These people absolutely adore his humor and banter with everyone. Will use the riding skydive emote the most. Bamboozles actually trick you and you realize how dumb you can be. Makes people waste their bullets and revel in this fact. Rezzing is very nice.... until you hear footsteps then it's extreme anxiety. Has meme potential in anything. Will try to use their ultimate to escape but will eventually be shot at. Half of the fakes run into walls or objects which will have the enemy team look directly at the real one. Goofy and fun to be around but anxiety goes straight up when they're trying to rez.

Octane:

Speedy bois. Hella hard to hit and never stop running. Try their hardest to get teammate banners. Cheer on these devil babies, they do so much. Slurps and throw up loot all in one go. *90's racing music in the background*. Unfortunately abandons their team behind when 1 person is downed. Can't stay indoors for long and keeps moving destinations. Cannot drive the titan for their life and crash land near edges of maps. Makes me grip the mouse and keyboard when they're driving.

Pathfinder:

Will use their grappling hook and either fly over their initial stop or be stuck under the building. I'm the one stuck under the buildings. Hella good at snipers and aerial shots. Is that one main who'd swing into action all cool but will crash face first into a building. Zip lines to fights and gets downed first. Gets impatient when groups don't show up and quit. 2nd most salty people in voice chat. Pretty good for rezzing and retreats. It's over when they have high ground.

Rampart:

Ballistic players who don't know how to chill. Gets the most attention with Shiela but also has their shields at all angles when a fight happens. Prepared for a gun fight at all times. Pair up with trap mains and create so much chaos. Will likely get pissed if teammates don't stay behind shield and get downed. Also underrated af. Shield get left all over the map and turns the fight around if the enemy uses it. Honestly need more Rampart in my life.

Revenant:

Guilty of playing him for his voice. I'm calling myself out here but I'll be damned if I don't drag the rest of the fandom down with me. Will keep climbing up to impossible heights until they get in the perfect spot. Crawly bois, sneaky af. Will forget to use their totem before a fight. This also is the case with their tactical. Throws themselves in the most populated areas as jump master. Pings loot for teammates. Ironic that the character is awful to other people but the mains are really nice people. Love to annoy Lobas and piss off everyone else if their teammates are trash.

Wattson:

Do not be fooled by their cute personalities and awesome skins. They are the most devilish mains. Will do the 90's anime laugh in your face as you get electrocuted. Anger them and the last thing you'll see is a finisher. Will put their Tesla in an open field and get it destroyed in seconds. FENCES EVERYWHERE. You'll try to protect them until you see that they've already won a 1v2-3 fight. Will kill in cold blood if you destroy a fence. Disposes your body by finishing you. Actually scary. The personification of ":)".

Wraith:

2 opposite spectrums. Either a noob or a 1000+ veteran. 1000+ veterans think they are privileged to own the best loot. Will voice chat just to complain and diss on your playstyle. Barely a team player and go off on their own just to die and get angry that "you're trash at the game". Very rarely will be cooperative to win a game. Noobs will have no clue and will follow you around like a lost child. T-bag moments. Will have you be the initiator of everything because the other teammate will just follow along too. Average Wraith players are the most chill players and don't say much but do a lot with their actions.

If I fucked up anyone's expectations then I'm sorry. This list is pretty stupid but if anyone else related to this or has anything else to add then put it in tags or messages!

Thanks for reading my opinions and please stay hydrated, unclench your jaw, don't send hate comments, and get some rest!

[floralseokjin]

;good2me (m)

Hoseok has been your friend and one of your roommates for over a year. That’s fine by you. In fact, most of the time he’s getting on your last nerve, even though you love him half to death. He’d agree. But soon you both find out there’s a very thin line between friendship and potential lovers... Are you prepared to cross it? 

pairing; jung hoseok x reader (slight kim seokjin x reader)  genre/warnings; friends to lovers (idiots to lovers), roommate au, bartender! hoseok, romance, bearable angst, a small infidelity, some mature content, implied smut  words; 15,351

author’s note; i started watching new girl again and got inspired by jess and nick’s relationship! Late, but for hoseok’s birthday 🥺💖

“Ohhh!” Hoseok hollered as you walked into the living area, looking up from where he was sat on the couch, flicking through the television. “Mama’s looking sexy!”

“Thank you. She is,” you said, trying to put on your best sexy voice. You did a little spin, before squeezing your cleavage up. “Got a little breast on show. A little booty if I bend over at a ninety degree angle.” You didn’t bend over the whole way, but he got the picture. 

He laughed, genuinely amused. “What is the occasion?” 

Trying to keep your bashful smile away, you failed. Big style. “Seokjin’s taking me out on our very first official date.” 

“Where to? Somewhere fancy no doubt.” 

“It’s a surpriseee.” 

You were giddy. Had been all day. You and Seokjin were finally happening, after all this time. Three months ago it seemed impossible. You had met in a quite unsavoury way, as in, you’d been determined to go out that night and have a one night stand. The one night stand had sure happened, but make that a multiple night stand. 

It was just casual sex for a few weeks. You didn’t know much about one another—more detail would mean this thing would just get deeper, and it was supposed to be the most casual of casual. You had come out of a longterm relationship at the start of the year, nearly 30 and very unsure what to do now when it came to dating. You’d met a couple of guys along the way, but you kept making the same mistake. You kept getting into relationships with them. You were sick of being Serious Sue, you wanted to be Fun Fanny. The nickname wasn’t the most desirable and you quickly stopped announcing that to potential hook ups you found at the bar. (Hoseok said you were giving off vibes you really didn’t want to be giving off.) 

Seokjin was a bit of a closed book back then, you didn’t know his story, why he wanted to keep things so casual. The guy was super sweet, really attentive and amazing in bed, but you didn’t pry. He hadn’t asked for your history, so you didn’t ask for his. Until you found out he was a doctor. A kid’s doctor. Or if you wanted to be official, a paediatrician. The dude was actually perfect, and that’s how you started to fall. 

It didn’t end well. When you confessed your feelings and implied you wanted more, he took off. He was sorry about it, apologised profusely, but he still left. You were heartbroken. But not just because of the rejection. It was because you’d fucked up again, wanted something serious, even though you’d sworn this thing with Seokjin was just a hook up. 

You managed to shake your dark mood, but you couldn’t shake the fact it felt like Seokjin was the one that got away. The one who was husband material if the situation had been different. It still felt like that nearly two months later when you ran into him at a Christmas party. However, to your surprise, he came at you with a thousand apologies. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d let go. He couldn’t concentrate the regret was so deep. He’d just come out of a shitty relationship when he’d met you, he’d gotten hurt and the idea of getting into a fresh relationship so soon had half frightened him to death. But the truth was he really liked you and wanted to be with you. He wanted something serious now, but he totally understood if you told him where to go. 

You very nearly did. You’d put your heart on the line once and he’d stomped all over it. Maybe it was just the stubbornness in you, seeing as you’d secretly held out for this. You’d needed time to think and Seokjin understood. It was actually Hoseok in the end who’d encouraged you to give it a shot. He knew you were frightened of getting hurt, but you deserved happiness and Seokjin could give that to you. (The dude’s perfect, were his exact words. And rich. Bag him now, before I do.) 

“Well, have a great time,” Hoseok grinned, taking a moment to get another look at you. “You look stunning. He’s gonna be blown away.” 

Your phone dinged in your hand. It was Seokjin, he’d just pulled up. “That’s him now.” Your voice was an unusual pitch. All high and excited. You were nearly at the door when you stopped, remembering what you wanted to tell Hoseok before you’d gotten distracted. You turned back. “Thank you again, Hobi.” 

He groaned. “Quit thanking me. I just gave you my opinion. You’re the one who made the decision.” 

You nodded, smiling softly. You were a broken record by now. “I don’t think I’ll be coming home tonight so don’t wait up.” 

“Ew.” He wrinkled his nose, feigning disgust. “Get out of here!” 

You laughed and opened the door to leave. Yeah, you were big style getting laid tonight. “Have fun with the guys!” You called, managing to get a grunt in reply. 

Living with three males was interesting, to say the least. Definitely not how you imagined seeing in your thirties. But when life hands you lemons, you make lemonade. Life had dealt you a lot of lemons (Read: blows. Lemons = blows) these past twelve months. The breakdown of your eight year relationship had resulted in you moving out of the home you shared. Living with your best friend Joy had been fine at first, but it was always a temporary thing in your mind. That’s how you found yourself here, in loft 4a, living with three guys. Your mother had always told you not to trust an ad on Craigslist, but she lived 100 miles away. What she didn’t know wouldn’t harm her. 

There was Hoseok, of course, who you were closest with. It didn’t make any sense, most of the time you were like chalk and cheese. He was hard to read, kind of judge-y on a bad day, but somehow he got you the most. Maybe it was because just before you’d moved in he’d gone through his own similar breakup. Another long term relationship with a woman you’d meant once when she was picking up some of the things she’d left at the loft. You hadn’t known him well back then, but now you did, and you’d seen first-hand what the separation had done to him. It made him insecure. In himself, in his capabilities and in his job. He worked in a bar down the road, had for a few years after he dropped out of law school, and even though he’d never said it outright, you think that was the parting dig Minah, the ex, had left him with when she’d walked out. But despite that, Hoseok could be fun and easy to be around. That’s why you liked him the most. Because he’d always made you feel comfortable. Right from the beginning. 

Next, there was Yoongi. A radio host for the local station in your area. You might think he was aloof if you didn’t know him any better, but the guy was very much similar to a cat. Slight in his affection but that just made it all the more sincere. You’d never forget the time he’d kicked out this lame-o you’d thought you were exclusively dating, when in fact it turned out he was seeing three other girls too. Yoongi found you in tears in the living room, jerkface trying to apologise for the misunderstanding. He was out on his ass in under five seconds. From that night on you knew to call him a friend, much to his chagrin. He was a big softy really, and very loyal. That’s why Joy had fallen for him pretty early on. One introduction, a few weeks later and Bam! They were an item. There went her vow to never date a guy shorter than her. Plus, Yoongi was very smug about dating a model. Thought all his Christmas’ had come at once. But yeah, they were very much in love now. Pretty sickening really…

And last but not least, there was Namjoon. He was the brains of the group. The only one with a master’s degree, and the only one with a “proper” job. A high school science teacher. Well, technically you were a teacher too, but it wasn’t particularly the same when you taught a bunch of adults creative writing. Namjoon was the sensible one. The one who kept the lid on everyone’s antics when they were in fear of getting out of control. Although boy could be erratic when he wanted to be. More often now that the woman he’d been dating on and off for six months had finally ended things. Heartbroken Namjoon was not fun. Nor was the depressing music he played at 2am in the morning. But you were there for him because you loved him. You, Hoseok and Yoongi. 

3 guys, one girl. Best friends until the end, living in loft 4a. 

Ew. It could be a sitcom. 

“I don’t understand why you had to meet me outside,” Hoseok said to you. “I work here, it’s not like this place is new to me.” 

You hummed, not really wanting to answer him, but also severely distracted. It was a good few weeks later now, winter was pretty much over, life had long and resumed after  Christmas. In fact, it was the middle of February and today was Hoseok’s birthday. The last but one of you to turn the dreaded three-oh. You were pretty nervous right now, inside the bar a whole bunch of people ready to celebrate. Hoseok thought it was just you, the guys and Joy joining him for a few drinks… There was minor detail you’d left out and ignored: Hoseok hated surprises.  

Walking through the bar entrance first, leading the way for obvious reasons, you were met with darkness. Hoseok stopped dead behind you, and you heard him mutter oh, god, aghast. Your stomach dropped out of your ass but you flicked on the lights, yelling SURPRISE! with the rest of the partygoers filling the dingy room. 

“Happy 30th birthday, Hobi!” You exclaimed, hugging into him slightly. You pulled back, a grin on your face, eyes wide as you tried to gauge his reaction. He wouldn’t make a scene, surely? You watched with slight dread as he tried to stretch one across his face too. His eyes were piercing though. Piercing into you with complete and utter disbelief. You then watched as he turned his head and addressed his guests. “Thanks, guys. What a lovely surprise…”

Frick. He was definitely using his fake voice. 

.

.

“What is this?” Hoseok hissed at you. He’d finally been able to corner you an hour in, and you stood huddled together by the restrooms. “I told you I didn’t want a big deal. You said it was just going to be a few lowkey drinks at the bar!” 

“It is,” you insisted, before muttering that next part. “Just with an added 20 more people…” 

“I don’t even know half of them!” He looked around the room, and you joined him. 

Okay, you had to admit, after the first five people you’d added to the list it was pretty hard to think of more. In the end you’d had to improvise. Invite acquaintances or just even friends of a friend… You wouldn’t admit that though. “Sure you do,” you shrugged. “There’s Yoongi and Joy.” 

“She’s your best friend.” 

“There’s Namjoon.” 

“They don’t count.” He frustrated. “They were supposed to be here! It was just supposed to be them!” 

“There’s Mrs. Choi from our building–”

“You invited a 60 year old lady to my birthday?” 

She had a soft spot for him. Of course she should be here. “There’s Brian, your-your boss…” You admit by now you were struggling. 

“He’s just here because he works every night.” 

“There’s…” You glanced around again, desperate to see a familiar face of Hoseok’s. Finally, you found someone. “THERE’S NARA!” You shouted pretty loudly, excitement taking over. She drunk at the bar a few nights a week. Hoseok had become a little enamoured. 

He jerked his head in her direction. She was sat in a booth with Yoongi, Joy and Namjoon. The latter chatting away with her. “Oh, my god. You invited Nara?!” 

“Of course I did. You like her.” 

“No, I don’t.” He was quick to refute. “I don’t like her. How do you know I like her?” He was also quick to give in. 

“You find a way to bring her into conversation every single time. Ask Yoongi.” 

He sighed dramatically, rubbing his his temples. “Well, that’s just great. Now she knows I’m 30. She knows I’m old!” 

“Shut up,” you scoffed. “She’s close to 30 too.” 

His head shot up. “You know her age?” 

“Yes. I know a lot about her.” You smirked, feeling powerful. “In the five minute conversation we had while I was inviting her, I found out way more than you have in the past three weeks you’ve been into her.” 

“I like to take my time.” He fumed. You were close to bickering, you could feel it. Hoseok said you were a butt-er in-er. You took control of things that weren’t your job. This was probably a classic example. However, this time around he relented. He wanted in on this info. He lowered his voice, leaning in. “What did you find out?” 

You shrugged, pretty nonchalant. If it wasn’t his birthday you’d make him pay you ten bucks for the facts. “Her surname. Her age. Where she was born. She prefers cats over dogs. LOVE that,” you exclaimed. Hoseok rolled his eyes, speeding you up with hand motions. “She’s only had one serious relationship in her life. Kinda like me. Although, who knows now that me and Seokjin are an item.” 

You found yourself easily on a tangent. Your relationship with Seokjin the biggest distraction in your life right now. Things were going amazing. Just over six weeks in and you were finding that domestic bliss you and your ex never had. 

“I don’t care about your life. I care about mine.” Hoseok rudely interrupted. “What else did you find out?” 

You glared at him but replied. “Not a lot after that. Bottom line is I love her. We’re a lot alike actually.” 

“No, you are not,” he insisted, a little bit of nausea in his face. You knew better than to get offended. “Hey, how did you find this all out in five minutes?” 

You tipped your shoulders. “People feel comfortable around me. They can open up, y’know?” 

He grunted in response, before his eyes widened in horror, thinking of something. “You didn’t tell her I like her, did you?”

“No,” you scoffed. “What do you take me for? An idiot?” The look he gave you was a yes. You rolled your eyes and grabbed him by the shoulders. “You’re going to tell her. Tonight. That’s why I invited her.” 

He swallowed, now looking scared. Talking to girls was never his forte. The last “relationship” he’d had since the big breakup had lasted four weeks. He had a lot to learn. You tapped his back encouragingly and he gave you a tight nod. Damn, maybe he really was about to get his flirty flirt on with this woman. You smiled at him and he looked around the bar one last time, shaking his head with a chuckle as he realised something. “God. You threw me a party at the bar I work at.” 

When would you ever win?! 

.

.

An hour later you were making your way back to the apartment. Hoseok in tow. You wanted to convince yourself it was because you could see the party wasn’t his style at all. You mean, you could see that, but the real reason you were in the elevator right now was because you’d been hit with another, even better idea. In fact, you wished you’d just thought of this first. 

“They’ll be fine back there. They won’t miss you,” you tried to reassure Hoseok, stepping out into the hallway. 

“Gee. That makes me feel so amazing on my birthday. Thank you.” Sarcasm all day, everyday. You didn’t deserve it. “Thank you for gathering a bunch of strangers to celebrate that I am one step closer to death.” 

See? It hadn’t been that hard to get him outside and convince him to walk you home because you were feeling a little lightheaded. It was like taking candy from he baby. Hoseok was dumb. 

“What happened to you?” You glared his way. “The guys always tell me you were so full of life before I moved in.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “I think you’ve answered the question yourself there.” 

You tutted, letting it go over his head. “Thirty is not bad, at all. I turned it a few months ago and I’ve just felt amazing ever since.” 

“You cried all day.” 

Goddamnit. “They were happy tears. Now,” you changed the subject, because yes, he was calling you out, but also he was pulling out his key, about to let himself in. You pushed him to the side, grabbing yours from your purse. “Just let me go do it,” you announced loudly. Almost like you wanted someone to hear you. “Just getting my key. Pushing it in the lock.” You continued the description. “Arriving home!” 

“What are you doing? What’s going on?” He was bound to be suspicious. You weren’t exactly being discreet. 

“Nothing.” You shook your head, now pushing the door open. 

“Nothing? I—

“SURPRISE!” 

Hoseok didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence, door swinging open to reveal the guys. Namjoon pushed forward to slip a ’30 Years Old’ banner over his head, and he had the audacity to glare at you. 

“I specifically said don’t make this birthday a big deal and instead you throw me TWO surprise parties in the span of a couple hours.” He was in disbelief. “Don’t you listen to a word I say?!” 

“This is a better one though.” You whined. “The one I originally should’ve planned. It’s just friends.” 

“Hi again,” a little voice sounded from behind Namjoon. 

“And Nara.” You grinned, watching Hoseok’s face light up a little. “See Nara came. I invited Nara.” Success. Namjoon had followed instructions. Get the woman into the apartment. 

Hoseok finally smiled at you, stepping inside the loft. “Nara came! Hi, Nara!”  You’d take that as his seal of approval then. This place was much better for getting to know her. He’d failed miserably at the bar, you wouldn’t allow it here. You were going to play matchmaker tonight. 

“Baby!” 

The sound of Seokjin’s voice in the hall distracted you, and you shrieked a little when you saw him walking towards you, dressed in all black. “Yay, Seokjin! You made it.” He hugged you straight away, landing a kiss on your lips. 

“We managed to get someone else in for the night. I escaped.” He cheered, still holding your waist as he turned his head towards Hoseok. “Happy Birthday, man.” 

“Thanks, Jin,” he smiled, before shooting a misplaced compliment. “You’re looking very handsome. As always.” 

You rolled your eyes, laughing a little as Seokjin pulled a confused face at you. “Ignore him, he’s already a little buzzed.” You still didn’t understand Hoseok’s obsession with your boyfriend’s looks. But the guy wasn’t wrong, Seokjin did indeed look very handsome tonight. As always. 

You glanced around the room, Yoongi and Joy had managed to put up some balloons and a banner in record time after you’d frantically text them the plan half an hour ago. Alcohol stood on the dining table, a few snacks in bowls. Definitely Joy’s doing. You clapped your hands. “Music please! Let’s get this party started!” 

The room erupted into cheers. 

.

.

“Okay, I have an idea,” you yelled into the room. It was over an hour in now. This party was popping, much better than the one happening in bar you bet. You were drunk. Not wasted or anything, but definitely merry. “Let’s play spin the bottle!” 

You’d already played Pass the Balloon, thinking of games from when you were a teenager in desperation as you tried to hook Hoseok and Nara up. The balloon one was going well until Namjoon and her had found themselves in some difficulty. Then it was just a wasted ten minutes as you watched them fail to give in. At least Joon was having fun though, it had been a while since you’d seen him have fun, let alone laugh. 

“We’re not in high school,” Hoseok grumbled from beside you.

Nara piped up from the kitchen. “I think’ll be fun.” 

“Yeah. Yeah. Cool.” Hoseok soon changed his tune. “I think it’ll be fun too. Cool.” 

“Great!” You took the bottle Seokjin had been drinking from and swigged the last bit much to his amusement. You hadn’t told him what you were up to yet, but he was going along with your crazy ideas anyway. He always watched you with fondness, which was sweet considering he also called you the wackiest person he knew. 

“Everyone, get in a circle and sit!” You ordered. They listened. You grabbed Hoseok just before he took off. “You, come here.” Dragging him out into the hall that lead to your bedrooms you tried your best to whisper. “Sit next to Nara.” 

“Huh?” 

God. Was he dumb? “I’m helping you here. Setting you up.” 

“I don’t need you to,” he exasperated. “I got this.” 

You knew for a fact he didn’t “got this”. “It’ll be your turn first, birthday boy n’ all.” You carried on like you hadn’t heard him. “Spin it ever so slightly.” 

“That’s so obvious.” 

“You want to make it obvious.” 

He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine.” 

You smiled in triumph, grabbing him by the arm. “Remember: ever so slightly!” And with that you dragged him towards the circle. You were pretty feisty when you needed to be. 

“It’s Hobi’s turn first because he’s the birthday boy,” you told everyone as you pushed him down between Nara and Joy. You sat to Nara’s left; convenient to keep an eye on everything, plus you were next to Seokjin too.   

“It’s so cute how you call him Hobi,” Nara commented, leaning into you with a smile. 

“Oh, really?” You were a little caught off guard. “Everyone calls him that. No big deal.” You tried to think if that was true… You must’ve heard it from somewhere else why would you have started calling him that…?

“Are there rules?” Joy asked. 

“Yes! Rules!” You suddenly realised. You racked your brains. Hoseok and Nara couldn’t kiss in front of everyone. That would just be odd. Hm, maybe this was too obvious. “Whoever the bottle lands on, that’s who you kiss! But there’s a twist. It has to be in my closet.” 

“You got cameras in there or something?” Namjoon piped up, Nara laughed loudly. 

“No,” you said slowly. “Because it’s the biggest. You can’t come out until the deed is done.” 

“Isn’t that like seven minutes in heaven?” Yoongi asked. 

“Yoongi, just shut up and listen.” Why couldn’t people just be excited? You were trying to hook up their friend! “It’s not like that because I don’t want people having sex in my closet.” You nudged Nara and giggled. She slowly laughed back, a little confused. You caught Hoseok shooting you a look but ignored him.

“Kissing only,” you continued. “And we need photographic evidence.”

“What?” Hoseok sounded like he was about to run off any moment. 

“Just a quick pic,” you shrugged. If truth be told, you wanted Hoseok to have the memory of when you set him up with the girl of his dreams forever. That way he could always thank you. 

“Is the guy to girl ratio a little skewed?” Yoongi pointed out. “I’m not kissing Joon.” 

You ignored him. “TONGUES.” You shouted instead, clapping your hands. “Almost forgot to specify: tongues!” 

“I’m not tonguing anyone bar my girlfriend.” Yoongi was adamant. 

“Whatever.” You sighed. Didn’t he realise this wasn’t about him? You didn’t care who he tongued or didn’t tongue. It was about who Hoseok tongued! 

You stretched over and handed the bottle to him. “Hoseok, spin.” You were careful not to use your, no, the, nickname. There was nothing cute about it. 

“Okay. Kinda nervous.” He was practically shouting. If this was his way of trying to sound casual, he was failing. “Don’t want to mess it up.” Thinking about it, this was a very stupid idea. He was about to spin a bottle four inches to the left. You watched feeling a little sick. 

The sick feeling turned to one of horror in a nanosecond. You watched in slow motion as the bottle passed Nara. It wasn’t four inches, it was eight. He’d landed on you. 

“No.” Hoseok spoke into the room. The denial was strong. “No. No. Nope. No.” 

You could hear the room cheering. Yoongi laughing, saying something about how amazing this was. The game had backfired on you. But in truth you weren’t really listening, too busy having a minor breakdown. 

You looked at a Hoseok. “No.” He said it back. You looked around at everyone else, eyes wide. In denial and begging for someone to say you didn’t have to do it. “No. No. HA,” you forced a laugh. “I have a boyfriend. I can’t kiss anyone else.” 

“If you were going to make me kiss Joon, you’re kissing Hoseok.” 

“Baby, it’s just a game,” Seokjin chuckled, hooking his arm around your shoulders. “It’s fine.” 

“No.” You were adamant. “I would call that cheating. Wouldn’t you?” 

“I would.” Hoseok piped up. At least someone was on your side. No one listened to him. 

“Relax.” Seokjin rubbed the back of your neck. “Come here.” He dipped his head, capturing your mouth in a soft kiss before pulling away and winking. “That’s to remember me. Now get on in there!” 

The guy physically hauled you up. You perfect boyfriend had no problem with this. Damn him. Damn him for being so reasonable and laid back. Yoongi made a beeline for Hoseok. The glee on his face was pretty frightening. 

“To the closest! To the closet! To the closet!” The chanting wasn’t necessary, but it happened any way. Frog marched into your bedroom and pushed into the closet. Surrounded in pitch black before you reached for the light switch. 

“You overshot it,” you hissed. 

“I was under pressure!” Yelling in whispers was hard. “You do not know how stressful it was!” 

You groaned, rubbing your hands all over your face. “Don’t do that you look like The Scream.” Hoseok commented.

You shot him a look before stomping your feet and pointing a finger at him. “I can’t believe this. You were supposed to be in here with Nara!” 

“Why the hell did you sit next to her?” 

“I don’t know. To keep an eye on you!” In hindsight it was a very bad idea, but what would have happened if you hadn’t? Hoseok would be in here with Seokjin? That was even more weird! 

“You guys kissing yet?” Yoongi asked through the door. You could almost see his Lenny face. 

“Oh, god,” Hoseok muttered. He sounded faint. 

“Yeah. We did it!” You yelled back. You were getting you both out of here. “Was super wet. Hoseok has a freakishly long tongue. Yuck.” 

“Hey. No, I don’t.” 

“Send the pic. Did you take a pic?” Yoongi sounded way too excited. 

Shit. The stupid picture?! Why did you even come up with that rule… “Oh, would you look at that. I didn’t hit the button. Oh well, doesn’t matter,” you shrugged, moving to turn the door handle. It didn’t budge. Almost like someone was holding it shut. “Hey, let us out!!” You yelled. 

“No evidence, no escaping.” That was Namjoon. He sounded overly amused. 

“Namjoon!” You shrieked in surprise. You twisted and tugged on the handle, hoping you he would relent, give up so you could get the hell out of here. “Let us out. Let us out! I’m claustrophobic!”

“Kiss and take the pic!” Joy shouted. 

Joy?! That was it! Friendship over. Come to think of it, where was Seokjin? Maybe you could appeal to him. He’d give in surely. You were about to open your mouth when fresh chanting started. “KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!” It was so loud you swear you’d wake up with a noise compliant. But more importantly, you could hear Seokjin’s voice along with the rest. Goddamnit. You were really going to have to kiss Hoseok. 

You turned back to him, defeat on your face. He’d been oddly quiet since you’d tried escaping. “Let’s just do it,” he shrugged. 

“What?” You mean, you’d been planning on saying the same thing, but you’d thought it would take some cajoling. 

“Get your phone out. Let’s just get it over with,” he told you. “You want to get out of here, right?” 

“Okay.” You nodded, telling yourself it would be fine. “Yeah, we’ll just kiss. It’s no biggie.” 

“Nope, no biggie.” He stepped closer. You were suddenly sweating. It was really hot in here and you swear the floor was shaking because of how rowdy they were being outside. 

“Hey, remember when I saw your boob that one time?” Hoseok laughed. “It popped right out of your towel when you were talking to me as I brushed my teeth.” He made a popping sound to emphasise, his hand flopping from his chest in an unnecessary reenactment

That had actually been particularly mortifying for you. Especially seeing as it was only a month into living with the guys and you’d just flashed a boob accidentally. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

He looked at you, releasing his mistake. “It doesn’t. Just if I’ve seen your boob, I can kiss you.” There was no correlation at all. You wanted to point that out but now he was a few inches from your face. You were going crosseyed trying to look at him. “Okay, let’s do this,” he murmured. 

“Ew. What did you just do?” You startled, stepping back. 

“Huh?” 

“You licked your lips.” He’d licked his lips and moved forward. He was about to put his wet ones on your normal ones. 

“Of course I did. Do you want dry lips?” 

“Yes! I want dry lips,” you insisted. 

He pulled a face, more than puzzled. “These things can get pretty chapped, but ok.” Before you could say anything else he had his hands on your face, lunging closer with his eyes closed. 

“No. No.” You ducked from his grip, darting to the other side of the closet. Had it always been that small in here? You used to think it was massive. 

Hoseok sighed. “What now?” 

“You cupped my face. You did this thing with your eyes.” 

“What, closed them?!” 

“Don’t kiss me with your eyes closed.” 

“So you want to be staring at each other the whole time?” He thought you were crazy. Could tell by the tone of his voice. He exhaled, voice calmer when he spoke again. “You don’t want to kiss me, do you?” 

“Of course I don’t. It’s weird as hell.” You caught the look on his face. “Oh, come on. You cannot be offended. Does the idea of kissing me not gross you out?” 

“No, it doesn’t gross me out. That’s a bit drastic.” 

God, he was not guilt tripping you right now. It worked anyway. “Fine! Let’s kiss.” He looked startled, probably feeling dizzy by your back and forth. “C’mon. Kiss me, Jung.” He didn’t budge. You started chanting. It was the only way. “Kiss me! Kiss me! Kiss me!” 

“Ok, okay.” He yelled over you. “Shut the hell up.” You continued. You always did like pissing him off. 

In a split second he was in front of you. “Come here.” His cupped your face again and you instantly shut up. Your eyes were locked on his, and in this pretty dismal lighting he looked beautiful. It made your insides feel funny. For a moment there you caught yourself puckering. You caught yourself actually wanting to kiss him, and then in the blink of an eye it was gone. Almost like it never happened. He murmured your name and pulled away, shaking his head 

“What?” 

“I can’t do this,” he admitted. “It’s too weird.” 

“Ha! See!” You were triumphant. “It is weird!” 

He shook his head again, chuckling quietly. “No, I mean… This is not how it’s supposed to go.” 

“What?” There was silence. He didn’t try to elaborate. “Supposed to go?” No matter how much you tried to make sense of that, nothing worked. “How’s it supposed to go, Hoseok?” 

“Forget it. I didn’t say anything,” he tried to backtrack. “It came out wrong.” 

“Hoseok.” He didn’t tell you. He just stared at you, unable or unwilling. “Hobi—p”

“You guys win.” You were interrupted as the door burst open, Yoongi grumbling like a giant baby. 

You blinked rapidly, not used to the bright lights. Everything felt a little weird, like you’d been in that closest for years. You walked out first, not looking behind you. You felt a little shaken up. You couldn’t explain why. 

Seokjin wrapped his arms around your shoulders and laughed. “We were sick of waiting.” He smelt of beer and his eyes were unfocused. You hadn’t realised before but he was drunk. Way more than you were. 

“Get back in the circle,” Namjoon ordered, leading the way. God, this game was still going to continue? You’d all be here until tomorrow morning. “You guys are spoilsports.” 

“What’s a little kissing among friends?” Yoongi piped up, which was rich coming from him. “Okay, Nara’s turn,” he said once everyone had gotten back into place. She took the bottle eagerly. “Spin it, girl!” 

You all watched it go. You totally forgot to pray it landed on Hoseok until it was too late. The room erupted into cheers and wolf whistles as it stopped and your heart sunk. 

“NAMJOON!!” Yoongi yelled. “Get it, Kim!” 

You shot Hoseok an apologetic look. 

.

.

“Hey.” You said, stopping by the sofa where Hoseok sat. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

It was a fewhours later, the party was over and you were in your pyjamas ready for bed. Seokjin was already tucked up on his side and you’d just gone to get a glass of water. You didn’t want a headache in the morning. You were surprised to see Hoseok still awake and in the living room. 

He shook his head, laughing a little. “It’s fine. I actually kinda enjoyed it in a strange way.” 

“You did?” 

“Yup. What better way to see 30 in. Trapped in a closet with you.” 

You laughed at his silliness, making your way over to the sink to fill up your glass. You gulped the water down, thinking to yourself. You didn’t care if he was just trying to make you feel better. You were still relieved he hadn’t totally hated it. There were worse people to be stuck in a closet with. You hoped. 

As you placed the now empty glass down a faint banging appeared. Like something hitting against a wall. It got louder and then slowed away. “What’s that?” You asked Hoseok, turning around and genuinely puzzled. 

“Oh, that,” Hoseok chuckled. “That’s Namjoon and Nara. He’s giving it to her good. Real good.” 

Your mouth dropped open, just as the banging re-emerged. Yes, it was definitely coming from his room. His headboard. Then the guilt kicked in. “Oh my god. Hobi, I’m so sorry.” How had this happened? How had you not seen the signs? It was pretty obvious now, thinking back, Nara had been totally into Namjoon. All that hushed talking, giggling and touching. The game of spin the bottle. That girl had rigged her own spin for it to land on him. Only she’d been a good shot. Hoseok on the other hand… 

Hoseok raised his hand, brushing your apologies away. “He asked for permission. He needs this.” Maybe so. This was the first woman Joon had shown an interest in after Sookie. Hoseok was too understanding.  “Besides, I oddly don’t care.” 

Or maybe not. 

“You don’t?” You instantly kicked yourself for prying. Prying and being nosey had been the downfall of this night. Yet here you were itching for more info. 

“Yeah, I just…” He trailed off and shrugged. “Maybe I don’t like Nara that much. It was just a stupid crush. No big deal.” 

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to ask what made him change his mind so suddenly? Made him realise? But that seemed inappropriate. You nodded instead, letting him know you got it, and turned to leave. “Goodnight.” 

“Wait,” he called. “Hold up.” He jumped up and you turned to face him again, waiting like he’d asked. “I want to say sorry too. I made that weird. The game.”

“Oh.” The closet. The awkwardness had slowly disappeared through the night and now you had a sickly feeling it was about to come back. If the look on his face was anything to go by. 

“What I meant was,” he was talking slow, a little stunted. “If I was ever going to kiss you, it wouldn’t be like that. Because of some stupid game.” 

His words took a moment to process. Perhaps you had another hundred questions to ask but they seemed impossible. You should just take what he said and accept it. The game was over and you’d never play it again. You’d never get in a closet with him again. You felt strange, but you didn’t admit that. Instead you smiled. “Okay.” 

That feeling was creeping back. The one from the closet, when he’d been holding your face and staring into your eyes. The one where he’d looked so good under that weird yellow light. Hoseok was handsome, you’d always thought so, but in a way where you’d never actually thought of it, if that made sense… In that closet, you’d thought it. 

“Come on, I’ll walk with you,” he told you, interrupting the butterflies in your stomach. You walked side by side, down the corridor. Your rooms were directly opposite one another. Had you pointed that out before?  

You stopped when he did, forcing yourself to say something. It was just Hoseok. You talked to him all the time. You yelled at him all the time. And laughed, and fooled around. He was your friend. “I promise I’ll make next year’s birthday better.” 

He smiled gently, head tilted, voice soft. “You don’t have to promise me anything. Night.” 

“Goodnight, Hobi.” 

You made to turn, hand nearly on the door handle, but then he pulled you back. One hand reaching for yours, the other curling around your waist. Your mouths met in such a rush you didn’t realise until you felt the warmth of his tongue. It was passionate and eager. The kind of kiss you see in the movies, where no one comes up for air, where their bodies move on their own accord. 

There were no thoughts, just feelings. The feeling of how good this was, and how much it took your breath away. The feeling of his lips on yours and how you should’ve been feeling them a long time ago. The feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist, clutching you tight, and yours around his shoulders, holding him close. 

When you finally pulled away, no choice but to, you were trembling. Boneless. Hs breath fanned across your face and you were sad. You wanted more. You wanted to kiss him all night. Slowly, more deliberately, you pushed your lips against his, savouring the feel. He kissed you back just as softly before breaking away for good. 

“That’s how it would go,” he murmured. He was breathing heavily. “How I imagined it to be.”

And that he was gone. To his room, door shut. 

You stood there dazed, lips tingling and you brought your fingers out to touch them. There was silence all around you, and slowly, the haze began to lift. In its wake brought panic and guilt. Seokjin. Your boyfriend was asleep just behind the door.

What had you done? 

You got hardly any sleep. Your brain wouldn’t switch off. The guilt twisting your gut, even more so when you kept thinking of the kiss and how good it was, and how short lived it was. Seokjin centimetres away from you, clueless. You rose early. Everyone else was still asleep, the loft silent. Still in your pyjamas you poured yourself some cereal and sat on at the counter, munching away sombrely. 

Hoseok was the first to wake up. Of course. You should’ve just stayed inside your room, but you couldn’t bear to be near Seokjin. He strolled into the living room casually, making his way to the kitchen. You tried to ignore the way your stomach flipped because you didn’t know what it meant. Were you angry, panicked, something else? 

“Good morning.” He greeted casually. 

Angry. You were angry. It rushed up your body. How dare he be so casual. As if nothing had happened. “Seriously? Good morning?” You retorted. He was making himself a coffee. “What’s good about it, Hoseok? You kissed me last night!” 

He gave a little shrug. “I know I did.” 

You were flabbergasted by his gall. Had to force yourself to continue. “Well,” you stared at him. “Aren’t you going to explain yourself?” 

“I already did.” He spoke simply. “I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to show you how I would kiss you.” 

Nope. You weren’t feeling guilty over this any longer. Not when he was acting so unfazed. He was the one who had kissed you. This was his doing. And he didn’t care at all. “To what? Prove a point?” You demanded. 

He scoffed, dropping a teaspoon into the sink. “No, not to prove a point.” He turned to face you, back leaning against the counter. “I wanted to kiss you.” 

Your mind was beginning to reel. “I have a BOYFRIEND,” you said slowly, unable to keep a lid on your anger. “Who I had to sleep next to last night.” 

Right on cue, Seokjin came from around the corner, still half asleep and rubbing his eyes. You froze, feeling instantly sick. You hope he hadn’t heard anything. 

He hadn’t. He smiled when he saw you both, making his way over. “Morning, guys.” 

“Seokjin, hey,” you breathed, feeling a little trembly. You pushed your bowl away, not hungry now. You caught Hoseok’s eyes. 

“Morning,” he nodded, turning to look at Seokjin but averting his gaze. 

Seokjin leant down and kissed your cheek, rubbing your shoulder. “Did you sleep at all last night? You were tossing and turning like crazy.” 

You felt yourself panicking. You needed to cool it. “Ah, I think I was still pumped from the party.” You laughed lightly. 

Seokjin joined in. “You guys sure do know how to have fun. I think I’ve drunk more in these past two months than I have in my entire life.” You heard Hoseok gave the lamest laugh back. It sounded more like a scoff and you shot him a look.  

“Hey, wanna go to the zoo today?” Seokjin suggested. You’d been on about going for weeks now just hadn’t gotten around to it. “I’m not due at the hospital until tonight.” 

You forced yourself to smile. Hoped it seemed natural. “I’d love to.” 

“Perfect,” he grinned, reaching to kiss your lips. They twinged, and you remembered the feeling of Hoseok’s mouth. You were also very aware he was a witness to all this. You pulled back quickly. “Wanna shower first?” Seokjin asked. 

“No, it’s okay. You go.” 

You couldn’t bear them to be alone together. Hoseok was acting weird, you didn’t trust him not to tell Seokjin. As it would have it though, by the time you looked across at the counter, Hoseok was gone, already walking off back to his room. 

.

.

“What’s wrong?” You asked Seokjin as you made your way into your room. You’d showered straight after him. Gotten dressed in the bathroom because you did not fancy bumping into Hoseok wrapped in a towel. Even though you had many a time. 

Seokjin looked a little sad, you could tell by his face straight away something was up, and  delayed, you felt dread begin prick at your spine. What if Hoseok had told him? 

“Bad news. They need me at the hospital.” He sounded guilty that he had to let you down. 

While you felt instant relief. He didn’t know about the kiss and your guilty conscious was happy you wouldn’t have to spend all day together. You felt terrible at the realisation. Maybe you should just tell him what happened. But… not like this. Not today. You were a serial put-er off-er.

“That’s okay, it can’t be helped,” you told him, making your way over to the bed where he sat perched on. You rubbed his shoulder. You both liked doing that to one another. Thinking that made you sad. “I feel bad for you though. You haven’t had a proper day off in weeks.” 

It was true, Seokjin worked harder than any person you’d met before. You didn’t know how he did it. More sadness filled you. You couldn’t explain why. This time it wasn’t the guilt over the kiss, but something else. Everything had changed. 

“You’re cute,” he smiled. “I’ll be fine. Always am.” Those words stuck with you. “I’m sad we can’t go to the zoo. Rain check?” 

“Rain check,” you nodded, smiling slightly. 

“What will you do instead today?” He asked, before chuckling. “Hoseok’s here all day. Keep him company.” 

Your eyes widened. “You’ve been talking to Hob–Hoseok?” Damn that nickname. He didn’t deserve to be called Hobi. 

“Yeah, while you were in the shower.” 

Change the subject. “I think I may hang out with Joy.” It was the weekend after all, and Yoongi had work this afternoon and then he was going out for drinks with some coworkers. Joy would be free. “We can have a girly day. I could stay over maybe.” You were babbling. Trying to make this believable even though it wasn’t a lie. “Face masks, pillow fights, all that sleepover stuff.” 

Seokjin looked at you funny and laughed affectionately. “You’re really trying to relive your high school years, aren’t you? You’re cute,” he repeated. He always called you cute. He wrapped his arms around you waist, pulling you a little closer. “—and weird. That’s why I like you.” 

Yes. Sometimes you did think you were a little bit “too much” for Seokjin, but he always seemed so endeared by you. Usually this kind of talk made you happy, but you felt strange inside. Like everything was slowly dying. Seokjin kissed you, it didn’t bring you back to life.    “I’ll see you tomorrow night. Promise I’ll be free.” 

You forced yourself to smile. Any more and your lips would start aching. “Can’t wait.” 

He rubbed his nose against yours, voice low. “You can come over. Maybe we can play seven minutes in heaven…” 

You giggled, but in your mind you couldn’t stop thinking about your kiss with Hoseok. 

.

.

“Hoseok kissed me last night.” 

It was a few hours later, not even twenty four after the kiss, and you were finally telling someone about it. You weren’t built to keep secrets. Joy knew that. She knew you the best out of anyone. She’d been your best friend for over twenty years. That’s why it was her you told. Curled up on her sofa you blurted it out. No lead up, no ‘Hey, can I tell you something?’ Just straight out with it. 

She turned her attention away from the television, a look of confusion spread all over her face. “During the game or?” 

You breathed out. “After. Once everyone had gone home.” 

Her eyes widened, but she spoke slowly, as if she was trying really hard to understand. “I’m confused. Was it a drunk thing?” 

“I don’t know why he did it,” you admitted. If you had a solid answer maybe you could get your head around it more. “He said he wanted to show me how our first kiss would go.” 

“Hold up.” Now Joy had come to life. Still in shock, but needing explanations. “He imagined a first kiss? Does he like you?” 

“No,” you exclaimed, pulling a disgusted face. “It’s Hoseok. Me and Hoseok.” 

“Do you like him?” 

Was she crazy? “No.” But that sounded too mean. “Yes. I mean, of course I like him, he’s my friend.”

“Christ. He kissed you,” she muttered, shaking her head a little in disbelief. 

“I kissed him back.” Had you left out that minor detail? It was all very well saying Hoseok kissed you, but you’d let him, and you’d kissed him back just as hard. The memory had your insides feeling funny again. 

Joy looked a little in stunned. You didn’t blame her. You and Hoseok kissing? His mouth on yours, his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth… You needed a cold shower. Where was your guilt now?! 

“What was it like?” She asked hesitantly. Curious. 

“Really good.” You couldn’t lie. And you couldn’t keep the truth in. You just needed to be honest with yourself. “I’m so confused. Joy, I cant stop thinking about it. I’m so mad at him but it was just so… It was just so hot. But out of this world. Like, I saw through time and space, and it was Hoseok doing it!” In what world did that seem realistic? He was your friend! 

“Damn, Hoseok has game.” Joy sounded half impressed. 

You sighed sadly. “I think it was the best kiss of my life but it can’t be because…” There she was. The guilt. She settled in your stomach, heavy and sickly. “Seokjin. I have a boyfriend. One who I’ve liked for the longest time.” 

You remembered how much you wanted to make it work with him while things were still just a hook up and how heartbroken you’d been when he’d told you he couldn’t give you that. How confused and kind of mad you were when he found you again and confessed his feelings and how happy you’d been when you’d given him another chance. When Hoseok had encouraged you to give it a try. Nothing made sense. Everything had changed after one kiss.  

“Are you going to tell him?” Joy asked. 

“I don’t know. I was going to forget the kiss ever happened but I don’t think I can do that,” you admitted. Seokjin deserved the truth, but selfishly, more than that, you couldn’t live like this, so conflicted. It wasn’t black and white. You’d kissed Hoseok back. 

“Just think it through, okay?” She told you gently. “If you tell him it’ll make things awkward. You’re friends with Hoseok. You live with Hoseok.” 

You didn’t think Joy got it. You didn’t think you got it. You couldn’t forget about the kiss. That’s why you had to tell Seokjin. “No, I should tell him.” Your voice was a little shaky. “I kissed Hoseok back. It wouldn’t be fair to blame it all on him. Seokjin needs to know.” 

.

.

You slipped through the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. You turned left, towards your bedroom and began creeping. It was past midnight but you still wanted to go as undetected as possible, praying Namjoon and Hoseok were in their rooms already. 

“Hey.” You winced when you heard Hoseok’s voice, freezing. “I was waiting up for you. Where were you all day?” 

You turned back slowly, trying to make your voice sound as neutral as possible. If truth be told, the last person you wanted to have a conversation with right now was him. “At Joy’s. I was going to stay over but Yoongi got drunk and she had to pick him up.” 

“You were going to stay over because of me?” He asked. You stayed silent and he sighed your name. “Look, I’m really sorry I did this. Made things awkward between us. It’s the last thing I want.” 

Your jaw tightened in anger. Then why the hell had he kissed you? “I don’t feel awkward. Do you feel awkward?” 

“I feel a little awkward.” He admitted, hands in his pockets. You stayed a few feet apart. “You left the house all day to avoid me.” 

“I’m not feeling awkward. I’m feeling…mad.” 

“Mad?” He had the cheek to sound surprised. “At me?” 

“You kissed me when I have a boyfriend.” You explained like you had to. “Did you not think of the consequences?”

He lowered his head, sheepish, yet he still didn’t apologise. “Are you going to tell him?” He asked instead. “Just don’t.” 

“What?” Your voice was low, anger rising. 

Hoseok shrugged. “Just forget it ever happened.” 

“Forget it ever happened?!” You exclaimed. “I can’t.” You shook your head, the memory of the kiss pushing its way back into your head. No. That wasn’t why. “I can’t lie to him. You’re asking me to lie to him?” 

“It’s not lying, it’s just not telling him something happened. He’s oblivious to it anyways.” 

“What the hell?” You couldn’t begin to explain why you felt so frustrated. So offended. “I can’t do this.” You voice shook. You were blowing up. “I was happy before last night. Like really happy, and now everything is ruined because you kissed me!” He stayed silent. You couldn’t read his expression. 

“Like jeez,” you laughed in frustration. “It doesn’t make sense, Hoseok. You were encouraging me to give him another chance and now what, you like me?” You mocked, instantly regretting it by the way his face fell. 

“Is that funny to you?” He scoffed. “Is the possibility I like you so hilarious you feel the need to laugh in my face?” Oh no. “Or are you laughing because it seems so crazy? Impossible?” 

You could feel the dread prickling your skin, but all you could do was watch him in horror. “I like you.” The way he said your name afterwards made something inside of you long. You pushed it away, because otherwise your legs might give way from under you. 

“I like you a lot. Way more than a friend and I don’t know for how long.” 

You couldn’t speak. Just watched him struggle to find the right words himself. “It-It’s just one of those things. You came into my life like a bulldozer and I kept thinking, how had I gone through nearly thirty years of my life not knowing you?” He scoffed. “It sounds stupid, but it’s true. Slowly I just began thinking maybe one day it’ll be our chance. It wasn’t urgent. Just kinda there in my subconscious. Most of the time I didn’t even think about it.” He shrugged. “I was okay with waiting. Okay with watching you date other guys because it wasn’t our turn yet. One day,” he sighed. “One day it would be, and I’d get to kiss you like last night.” 

The kiss was back behind your eyes. The feeling of his lips, the taste of his mouth. The touch of his body. For some reason you were angry. 

“That game messed it all up and I’m sorry for that, but I’m not sorry for kissing you. I won’t apologise for that.” 

“No.” You finally said something. It was final, but your voice shook. “No. You can’t be doing this right now, Hoseok.” You pointed at him, accusing him. “I’m happy. For the first time in a long time I was happy. I like Seokjin. He’s the first guy I’ve really felt something with since Seungwoo. Do you know how important that is?” He should understand that more than anyone, with what happened with Minah. 

“You expect me to throw it all away because one day you see yourself with me? One day?!” You were a goddamn after thought. One of those pacts friends made. If we’re still single at 40 we’ll get married. Was that what you were to him? You blinked away frustrated tears. He was one of your best friends and that’s how he saw you? 

“Oh, please,” he sneered. He sounded hurt, but mad. You’d never seen him angry before. You hated it. You’d bickered many times, but never to this level. “You’re always choosing shitty men.” 

“You’ve known me for a year!” 

“Yeah, and in that time it hasn’t been great,” he scoffed. You thought of the handful of men Hoseok had witnessed you date and cringed. He was judging you. Two could play at that game. Childish or not. 

“Oh, and you have such a great taste in woman. If I remember correctly, one robbed you after you slept with her!” 

“That could’ve happened to anyone!” 

Whatever. “Seokjin is not a shitty man!” He was kind, and sweet, and probably way too good for you. 

“You were his fuck buddy for weeks and when you told him you had feelings for him he ran away only to come back with his tail between his legs. He had his chance and he blew it. You deserve better.” 

“You were the one who told me to go for it!” You exasperated. He wasn’t making sense. He was the one who encouraged you to give Seokjin a second chance. Without Hoseok, you wouldn’t be together right now. 

“I regret that now. What more do you want me to say?” 

Really? You stared at him. “I want you to say you don’t know anything.” 

“I don’t know anything?” 

“Yes, you don’t know anything about anything.” He just said things, did things, without thinking of the consequences. He was thoughtless. “Seokjin might’ve been the one, but now it’s all ruined!” 

“He’s not.” 

Fuck him. He sounded so sure. What did he know? “It’s ruined because of you!” You shouted in frustration. “I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to feel.” All you could remember was the kiss. “I was happy and now I’m not.” 

“Well I’m sorry for making you unhappy,” he sighed. “That’s what I do.” He threw his hands into the air and laughed bitterly. “I’m sorry for thinking me and you could be something great. I’m sorry for not having my life together. Not being rich, or for not being devilishly handsome—which I may add,” he shot, “is freaky. No man should be that beautiful!” 

For god’s sake. What was he trying to do now? Guilt trip you? “What are you going on about? Those are your insecurities. I don’t care about all that stuff.” Was he trying to say you were shallow? 

“Of course you do,” he insisted. “Seokjin has it all. What do I have? Nothing. I’m 30 and work at a bar. I dropped out of law school and forget to shower some days. I don’t own my own home. I live in a loft with two other guys and you.” 

You? Why did he say it like that? For someone who supposedly liked you he wasn’t doing a good job of showing it. From the seems of things he didn’t like you. 

“Do yourself a favour and just don’t tell him. Forget about me and be happy. Fall in love with him, marry him, have tons of super pretty babies.” 

Jaw tight, you sneered. “This is why we wouldn’t work out.” You told him. “You’re childish.” He wasn’t relationship material. He wasn’t what you were looking for. “You’re selfish. You’re mean.” 

He scoffed. “I’m mean?” 

Your bottom lip wobbled, eyes filling up. “Yeah, you really are.” And then you stormed off. Down the hall and into your room. Just in time to hide the tears that slipped down your cheeks. He couldn’t see you cry. He couldn’t see he’d gotten to you. 

He yelled your name, calling you back, sounding regretful, but you didn’t listen and he didn’t follow you. 

The next morning you didn’t see Hoseok at all. He was either in his room when you finally emerged from yours, or he was already at the bar. You were thankful either way. You didn’t think you could handle facing him. You were still so mad, but more than that you were upset. Confused. 

You showered and got ready with a struggle. Forced yourself to go grocery shopping even though you had no appetite for food, and then you just tried to keep yourself distracted. You caught up with some marking that needed to be done by tomorrow, meal prepped for lunches and tried to seem normal around Namjoon who was milling about the loft too. Then Seokjin messaged your asking if you still wanted to hang out this evening. You replied yes with a heavy heart. 

On your way there you’d convinced yourself that you weren’t going to tell him. Yes, you had kissed Hoseok back, but he was the one that had made the move. You could forget about it with time. You could be happy with Seokjin again. Your guilty conscience would go. 

But sitting with him on the sofa, his arm looped around your shoulders and his soft laugh rumbling in your ears every time something funny happened in the movie you were watching, you realised something. The only reason you didn’t want to tell him was because you wanted to spite Hoseok. You were being selfish. The same thing you’d accused Hoseok of last night. 

Seokjin deserved to now, whatever the outcome. For him, for you, for Hoseok… 

“I kissed Hoseok.” 

It didn’t sound like your voice, but you’d said it. 

You felt Seokjin move and you automatically wriggled out from under his arm. He paused the movie, looking back at you with a bemused expression. “You kissed him?” He laughed slightly. “Why didn’t time say? We would’ve left you out sooner.” 

He’d mistaken what you meant. Just like Joy. You closed your eyes softly, sadness filling you. You wanted to say yes, in the game more than anything, just not to hurt him, but that wasn’t the truth. You’d kissed Hoseok off your own back and you’d enjoyed it. “No,” you said softly. “We kissed after the party. Later on when I went to get some water. He kissed me, but I kissed him back.” You didn’t take a moment to pause, needing it all to be out. 

Seokjin was silent as he absorbed the information. Shocked being a given. Finally he said something. “You kissed him while I was in the loft too? In your bed?” 

When he worded it like that you felt sick. You nodded sadly. “I feel terrible, Seokjin. I do. I just couldn’t not tell you. Hoseok said to forget it ever happened but I… It–We…” You fumbled over your words and took a moment to compose yourself. “We argued last night and I’m just… I’m really confused.” 

Two nights ago everything had changed. You’d been in this perfect new relationship. It had promise, it was going somewhere and you were over the moon. Then the kiss had happened and you hadn’t been able to see a future with Seokjin anymore. No matter how small. 

His face was unreadable as he looked at you. You wanted him to get mad. You wanted him to yell at you and tell you how much of a horrible person you were. You deserved it. But that wasn’t his style. Instead he breathed out some kind of little laugh. “There’s no need to be confused. I get it now. You like Hoseok. Of course you do.” 

You were too surprised to even think about refuting him. Of all the things for him to say, you had not been expecting that. “Seeing you guys together,” he carried on. “You always bicker, get on one another’s nerves, but now I see it.” He chuckled. Sadly amused. “It was chemistry. You two just bounce off one another so well. I don’t know, maybe you’re frustrated too, mad you’re not together.” 

You let his words sink in. Trying to think of every interaction you’d had with Hoseok since you met him. It was pretty much an instant connection. You’d always thought so, but did that really mean… You couldn’t let yourself think here. In front of Seokjin, after you’d just confessed to him. But everything was flooding to the forefront of your brain, and it was hard work trying to stop it. There was no point trying to deny it. Not now. 

“I never wanted to hurt you,” you told him instead. Meaning it sincerely. You hadn’t even realised anything yourself. Not even when it was right in front of you. When Hoseok was telling you he liked you. 

He smiled sadly. “Better for it to happen now, right?” 

“I really care about you, Seokjin. These past few weeks have been amazing. Even before, when we were…” You stopped and shook your head. “You’re the best and I’m really sorry.” You truly did mean that. No matter how lame it sounded. 

“You’re a really great girl, remember that,” he told you. “Maybe if I’d figured out my feelings months ago things would be different, but then again,” he shrugged, “maybe you’re just meant to be with him.” 

Meant to be with him. Hoseok. Were you meant to be with Hoseok? 

Seokjin took you hand and squeezed it gently. “I’m done,” he murmured, his eyes kind but firm. “I don’t want to be second best.” 

.

.

You had déjà vu. You were slipping through the door again. This time you didn’t try to creep into your room though. You made your way into the kitchen, needing a glass of water. Just to take some time for yourself, needing to find some clarity. You found it as soon as your eyes landed on Hoseok walking from the direction of the bathroom. Everything fell into place, began to make sense. 

He stopped dead when he saw you, awkward and probably panicked after last night. “Hey,” you said gently. “Where is everyone?” It was strange for the loft to be so quiet on a Sunday night. 

He cleared his throat. “Namjoon has Nara over, Yoongi‘s still over Joy’s place.” He was already beginning to walk away.  “I’ll be out of your way, just going to bed.” 

You opened your mouth to call him back. You had so much to say, but… But was tonight a good time to start? Your head was still whirring. Sadness and guilt over your breakup with Seokjin but you also felt giddy at the sight of Hoseok. You wanted to say sorry for the argument, for all the things you said, and most of all you wanted to tell him that you—

“Aren’t you supposed be staying with Jin tonight?” Hoseok had stopped, turning back with the afterthought. “Namjoon mentioned it.”  

He didn’t need to explain himself. You didn’t care how he knew. You didn’t care about a lot right now. Only one thing. “He broke up with me,” you replied. “I told him about the kiss and now it’s over.” 

Hoseok’s eyes bulged, visibly shocked. “What? Didn’t you tell him it was my fault?” He walked over to you. There was still a distance but it was a start. “No,” he muttered. “Why would he break up with you? It’s not your fault.”

Sweet, caring Hoseok. You smiled at him, the words that left you almost bubbling into a laugh. “It is.” 

He looked mighty confused. He was probably thinking you’d lost it right now. You hadn’t. You’d only just found it. You took a deep breath. It was now or never. “It’s my fault because I like you too.” 

Silence. He looked stunned. It seemed strange to say it out loud but also sort of invigorating. Nothing made sense in this world, bar one thing. Your feelings for him. You laughed, more words now rushing out. “I really like you. And I don’t know for how long. Maybe from the beginning,” you shrugged, “maybe from the kiss. I don’t know.” 

You’d been trying to pinpoint the exact moment on the ride home. Going through each memory you had with him in an attempt to understand when it happened. There was no real answer. It had snuck up on you, wanted you to be oblivious. And you think that was how it was for him too. Why last night had been so confusing. 

You were mad at him because you liked him too. You were mad at him because you thought he didn’t like you enough. He didn’t like you like he thought he liked you. God, you were a mess. Your thoughts weren’t making sense. What were you trying to say?

“I don’t know,” you repeated. “My head’s a mess and I really have a headache right now.” You rubbed your temples and then remembered something. “I also have a flat tyre. I think I drove over a nail on the way here. I don’t know how I’m going to get to work tomorrow morning.” 

“You could borrow my ca—

“Hobi, I don’t care.” You interrupted, laughing again. You felt funny, like you were floating. It felt good to call him that again. “I don’t care about anything right now, except you.” His eyes flashed at that, something changing on his face. He moved forward, closer to you. The counter was the only thing that separated you now. 

“I don’t understand anything and I’m really confused, but I know one thing,” you insisted, finally giving into the urge that had been raging your body for nearly two days. “I really want to kiss you.” You swallowed, tasting the memory of him. “Again. I can’t stop thinking about the kiss. It was the best kiss of my life.” 

He rounded the counter in the blink of an eye. He’d stayed silent for the majority of your confession, except for offering you his car, the idiot. You almost laughed again; why was he so sweet? Yeah, you would’ve laughed if he didn’t look so irresistible right now. So serious, so desperate, so intense. He was breathing heavily, almost panting, eyes blown black. 

“Can I kiss you now?” His voice was rough, broken with desire. 

You parted your mouth to reply. To say yes, to say please, to almost beg, but his lips were already on yours, hands cupping your face. Hungry, needy, eager. He pushed you against the counter your back was to, and you let out a gasp, maybe more of a moan. He took the opportunity to swipe his tongue against yours. He tasted like toothpaste. You hated spearmint, but now you loved it. 

You grasped him, letting your hands roam over his back. You wanted to touch him, feel him, never let him go. You grabbed the corners of his t-shirt with your fists and pulled him closer. He stumbled forward and your head feel back against one of the overhead cupboards. You didn’t care, clung to his mouth as he tried to pull back and check on you. “Don’t stop,” you whined against his lips. 

He chuckled but it trembled, probably had something to do with the way you were pressing your body into his. He gave up in the end, needing to get his hands on you too. He moved to your waist, hands gripping around the small of your back, holding you tight and pushing just as much into you, because he wanted to feel you against him too. To get as close as possible because there had always been a stupid, unnecessary distance between you. 

You felt hot, a little sweaty and out of breath, unsure how a kiss had got you this wrecked. It was just as good as his birthday—no, better. It was better because now you both knew what you wanted. 

“Hey—I know—this isn’t r-really the–mm–time,” Hoseok was trying to speak but he couldn’t stay away from your lips long enough. Words blurred and getting caught short, but you just kissed him more furiously. “But I really f-feel guilty about—last night. All the–the stuff I said–”

“It’s fine,” you got out, but it was enough to begin distracting you. 

He pulled back successfully, gazing at you, eyes warm and sincere. His breath fanned across your face. “I just feel really bad about all that stuff I said about Seokjin. He’s a good guy, I just—

“Let’s not speak about him now,” you interrupted softly. You took a deep breath, slipping your hands up his sides to rub his back. You were both coming down from that high slowly. 

He sighed weakly. “Yeah, I know, I just,” he paused, struggling, before giving a small shrug. “I was jealous of him.” 

“It’s okay,” you reassured. But now Seokjin was back in your head. The guilt was still there. Of course it wouldn’t go immediately, no matter how understanding he had been. But these emotions were conflicting. Plus, you knew you and Hoseok couldn’t be this simple. There was still so much to talk about. From both of you. 

“We need to talk before anything happens, right?” He read your mind. You smiled and nodded, feeling a little sad. 

And right at that moment a familiar banging appeared again. You caught Hoseok’s eyes and you both burst out laughing. Trust Namjoon to ease the moment.   

Hoseok pulled you upright, wrapping his arms around your waist now in a slight hug. You wrapped yours around his neck and he grinned. “We should go on a date tomorrow. We can talk then.” Your eyes widened. A date? Hoseok didn’t do dates. Not proper ones anyway. 

“I want to to this properly.” Again with the mind reading, you smiled to yourself. “I’ll take you out for dinner and we can, I don’t know, talk about what this means.” 

You grinned, Namjoon’s headboard still hitting the wall. “I’d really love that.” 

You were giddy all day. Couldn’t concentrate in work. You were still replaying last night in your head. After the kiss you’d watched some television together, like you always did on Sunday nights. You sat close, but not entwined, too afraid Namjoon would pop out of his bedroom—hopefully fully clothed. You couldn’t explain why that fear hadn’t been there when Hoseok had your back against the counter, but whatever, you weren’t ready for the weirdness that would unfold, nor the conversations that would need to be had. You hadn’t even talked it out yourselves yet. 

That was for tonight. Hoseok had text you just gone midday to tell you he’d gotten his shift for tonight covered and he’d booked dinner at a restaurant for 8pm. After that it had all felt too real. You were nervous, scared and excited all wrapped up into one. You were going on a date with Hoseok. Your friend Hoseok. The one who you’d bumped into this morning in the kitchen. The one who’d handed you a coffee with a shy good morning because he couldn’t say anything else with Namjoon rummaging around in the fridge next to you, totally oblivious. 

And later on, once you were home, getting ready for the date was a whole new experience all together. You know, living with the guy in question and all. You bumped into one another in the bathroom, brushing your teeth together with awkward giggles. He met you outside of your bedroom once you were dressed, eyes wide, cheeks a little flushed at the sight of you. Maybe the fact you were dressed up for him now turned him speechless. “You look beautiful,” he’d managed to splutter finally. 

He didn’t scrub up too badly himself. He was in a shirt for one. Loose at the neck, no tie, but a shirt nonetheless. And dress pants. Where exactly was he taking you? You didn’t have time to ask because you had to ninja your way out of the loft before you got caught. 

Dinner started off awkwardly at first. Stumbling over words, small talk drying up, lots of nervous laughter, but gradually you both found your groove. How could you not? It was you and Hoseok! All the history and chemistry you had didn’t just disappear because of one date. You were soon giggling together when you noticed a man accidentally walk into the women’s restroom. Childish, yes, but who cared? That’s who you and he were. 

By the main course you were both ready to open up, talk about you guys and what this meant. 

“I’m sorry about yelling the other night,” he apologised, pushing some spinach around his plate absentmindedly. 

You gave a little shrug.  “It’s okay. I’m sorry too. I was mad at myself more than anything.” 

“No,” he shook his head. “You don’t have to do that.” 

“Do what?” 

“Blame yourself.” He looked across at you. “You were mad because I kissed you when you had a boyfriend. I mean, it was a pretty dick-y thing to do and I feel really bad about it.” 

You smiled, that meant a lot to you. It was a complicated situation. The suddenness of it all the sole problem. 

You didn’t want to talk about Seokjin. You didn’t want to compare the two men, even though throughout the day your mind had tried to. In all honestly, both were very different, but both were good men. There was no winner, there was no loser. It just happened that you couldn’t ignore this chance with Hoseok. Not when he had been there first. Maybe looking at it now, you and Seokjin were different kinds of people. Maybe the relationship wasn’t as perfect as you’d thought. Not your perfect anyway. It could’ve worked out yes, but you knew he deserved someone better than you. Someone different to you. 

You realised something at that moment. Seokjin had always found your quirkiness adorable, but Hoseok found it normal. You didn’t know what that meant, but it made sense in your own head. It made you happy. You were here, in front of one another, on a date. Nothing else mattered.  

“If you hadn’t have done it we wouldn’t be here right now.” You told him. It was no good just thinking everything in your head. You needed to tell Hoseok some things. You wanted to tell him how happy you were. “On a dateee.” 

He laughed, relaxing into his chair. “We’re on a date!” 

He couldn’t quite believe it still. You laughed at how cute he was being and looked around. “You chose the fanciest place.” 

“Yeah,” he murmured, looking a little sheepish. “Did I go over the top? Feel like I did.” He stopped and then laughed. “I hope your heels aren’t too high, we gotta run outta here when they fetch the bill.” 

“Hobi,” you whined. He didn’t need to make a joke like that. Then you thought of something else. You hoped he didn’t take you here because he thought you expected it. Any restaurant would’ve done. “Hey,” you said softly. “I hope you don’t still believe all that stuff about you just being a bartender.” He shrugged a little sheepish. “I teach adults how to write fiction and I’m not too hot at it. Half of them are failing.” 

He chuckled at that, picking up his glass of wine. “I think the problem probably lies with them not you.” 

You looked at him, needing him not to laugh this off. You wanted him to see you didn’t care what job he had. “My point is, my job isn’t all that glamorous. It doesn’t have to be.” You thought he liked his job. It should never be used as something to separate you. 

He sighed softly, giving in. “I’m sorry I laid all that stuff on you. They’re my insecurities not yours. It’s just after… Just after the breakup with Minah. The stuff she said to me really stuck.” 

You reached for one of his hands, grasping is fingers. The warmth was all you needed. “I get that.” You still had some insecurities left over from your breakup with Seungwoo, but with Hoseok none of those things mattered. “I’m sorry for calling you childish, and selfish.” 

“And mean. Don’t forget mean,” he joked. 

“And mean.” You looked away sheepishly, before realising you needed to look him in the eyes for this. “I don’t want you to be insecure around me. I like you for you.” 

He chuckled quietly, squeezing your hand. “Thank you.” 

“I think it’s cool that you work at a bar.” You wanted to lighten the moment now, shrugging. “But maybe that’s because of the free drinks you give me.” 

He laughed, both of you pulling your hand back to carry on eating. “I’m actually not allowed to do that, but you’re so pretty how could I not?” 

You felt your cheeks flush at his casual remark. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“Very much so. Plus other things…” 

You smiled shyly. “I find you pretty too. Huh?” You noticed the face he pulled. “Is that not a good thing?” 

“I’m not pretty,” he baffled. 

“Are too.” You insisted. You’d always thought so, especially when he smiled. “I think you’re sexy too. Very sexy.” 

“Oh yeah?” He seemed to like that one better. “What’s so sexy about me?” 

You looked down at his wine. It wasn’t the right alcohol, but it made you remember something. “I like the way you drink beer. You gargle it a little.” 

“I do?” He looked puzzled. 

“Yeah, you do, and I don’t know, it’s kinda hot.” He looked chuffed at that. “What about me?” You added. 

“Hm,” he thought out loud. “It’s not really sexy, maybe a little misogynistic,” he laughed, “but I like when you struggle to open things. Like that bag of chips last week. When you ask for my help, I don’t know, it makes me feel good about myself.” 

It made him feel good when he opened a bag of chips for you? You awed loudly. “That’s so sweet, Hobi.” 

He scoffed, a little embarrassed. “Oh.” He remembered something. “I like when guys mistake me for your boyfriend.” 

You cocked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? I like that too. And vice versa.” You had never been able to pinpoint why in the past. It was usually gone before you could even try to explain it, but it had still been there. Numerous times. You’d just been clueless. 

“Isn’t this scary?” You asked. It was new and exciting, and you were happy, but it was also weird to be here. Sat opposite your friend, your roommate… the man you had feelings for. The man who up until a few nights ago, had a crush on another woman. No wonder he hadn’t really cared when Namjoon asked if he could bone Nara. And he, well he was sitting opposite you, who up until last night had a boyfriend. Talk about whiplash. This was crazy. 

“It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever done,” he admitted. 

“We’re like best friends, but is it because we’ve always had feelings for one another?” 

Hoseok upturned his shoulders. “I honestly have no clue. It makes sense, but…” 

“But at the same time it doesn’t?” You finished for him. He nodded. If he had never kissed you that night, then this wouldn’t be happening right now. Maybe it would’ve never happened. You would’ve kept missing one another. The moment never there for him and you probably oblivious until it was too late… 

But that wasn’t the case now. You were both here. Suddenly and maybe not in the best of circumstances, but you were here. That’s all that mattered. Was there really such a thin like between friendship and lovers? You tried imagining kissing Namjoon but couldn’t do it. It made you feel weird. Not the same weird you’d felt locked in the closet with Hoseok. 

“I don’t want to ruin what we have already but I can’t ignore these feelings I have for you.” Hoseok explained. “I’ve been repressing them for so long they’re uncontrollable.” He chuckled. 

“Same. I think.” You were beginning to realise that love didn’t have to punch you in the face immediately for it to be the real thing. “If I ignore how I feel about you I’ll spontaneously combust. I know it. I will.” These feelings had hit you full force and now you couldn’t ignore them even if you tried. 

He chuckled at your passion. “I don’t want you to spontaneously combust.” A thought popped into his head. “What will Yoongi say? Namjoon?” He groaned, rubbing his temples.  “What do we even tell them?” 

“Maybe we won’t tell them for a little while?” You suggested. You didn’t want to share this new, uncertain thing with other people just yet. The loft wasn’t the best set up in this situation. “Just until we work out what’s going on between us?” 

“Like keeping it a secret?” 

“I know it’s not ideal but I don’t want to mess this up.” He nodded, agreeing with you. “If we try and fail our friendship could get ruined. That terrifies me, Hobi.” You wanted to be honest here. All cards on the table. “I love you a lot. I don’t want to jeopardise anything.” 

“Hey, hey, nothing will get ruined, I promise you,” he reassured, reaching for your hand with both of his. “We’ll take it as slow as you want. This is new and if we do it properly then everything will be okay in the end.” He gave you a gentle smile. “Whatever the outcome. If we decide to move forward or decide to just stay friends, we’ll be okay.” 

Maybe that’s why you’d never realised your feelings for him. Why he’d never said anything. Your friendship meant too much to one another. If that was ruined somehow it would kill you both. But it didn’t have to be like that. If you both saw the potential danger, you could avoid it best you could. You shouldn’t be thinking of the potential end if it was only just the beginning. 

“You’re right,” you smiled back. 

Letting go of your hand he relaxed back into the chair again. “But for tonight, let’s think of this as a new thing. It’ll take the pressure off us.” 

“How do you mean?” You asked, curious. He had a giant smirk on his face. 

He shrugged. “Maybe we met on Tinder. Decided to go for a drink.” 

Oh. Okay, you saw where he was going. A little bit of make believe. That sounded fun. You and Hoseok always messed around like this. Why would it change? “Yeah,” you nodded, getting into it instantly. “We liked what we saw. I liked the way you dress.” 

He snorted. “You hate my dress sense. You told me I dress like a twenty year old hipster.”  

“I like it!” You insisted. You mean, in your defence you’d only said that because he’d said you dressed like a granny. He’d started it. 

“Thank you.” He was satisfied, you both could commence. “I liked your glasses. Reminded me of the librarian kink I had in high school.” 

“Eww.” You wrinkled your nose. “Weirdo.” You both laughed loudly. 

.

.

“Goodnight, pretty lady. I’ll see you in the morning,” Hoseok murmured. The night was over, the loft was empty, the guys probably already in bed, when you got back and you both walked down the hallway to your rooms, stopping outside to say goodnight. 

“Lame,” you scoffed, but he could tell by your face you loved it. “Night.” 

He leaned in for a kiss. It seemed like he was trying to keep it brief, nothing like last night or two nights before that, but no matter how hard he tried, it lingered. It was painful pulling apart and walking into your bedroom. You knew he was trying to be chivalry, and patient, and whatever else, but there was an itch inside you that screamed to be relieved. 

You pressed the back of your head up against the door, closing your eyes and taking a few breaths. Praying the desire you felt would ebb away. You heard movement from the other side. 

“Slow, we should take this slow.” Hoseok almost whined from outside.  

You opened your eyes immediately and flung the door open. You were on him in an instant, kissing him eagerly. Thankful your rooms were the other side of the loft from Namjoon’s and Yoongi’s. There would he no explaining this, and you didn’t want to share this with anyone else yet. Not to be careful, not just in case, like you’d originally thought, but because you were selfish. You wanted Hoseok for yourself. 

“I really want you. Like so bad,” you panted, hands all over his body. You wanted him out of his shirt. Out of his pants. Thoughts and images jumped into your mind. You were a woman possessed. “I’ve waited too long already. Please.” 

“Don’t beg like that.” His voice was so low, maybe even a growl, and it did things to you. 

You didn’t want to take this slow. Everything was already perfect. No matter what had happened to get here, it was all perfect now. 

You couldn’t wait a moment longer. You needed to be with him. 

“Pleaseee,” you said purposefully. 

He growled this time. For real. “I said don’t–ah, fuck it!” You exclaimed out loud as he picked you up from the middle, legs dangling alongside his as he walked into your room. He let go and cupped your face tight. He was breathing heavily. “I really want this, I really like you. I’m sure of it. Now that this is finally happening. Now I finally had the guts to make a move. This is for real.” 

You blinked. “Forreal for real?” 

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Never been more certain of anything in my entire life.” 

And then he was kissing you again. You never wanted it to stop. With shaky hands you took his and began to lead him backwards towards your bed…

*bonus* 

“Morning,” Hoseok smiled from above you. 

You’d only just woken up, eyes still blurry, but you rubbed them and rolled onto your back. “Good morning,” you smiled back. 

He rubbed his hand over your waist under the covers, now grinning like he couldn’t stop it. “We did that.” 

You were still naked. So was he. What a thought. “We really did that.” 

“Twice.” 

You hummed, reliving last nights antics. It was just so natural. The sex you mean. No awkwardness, no nerves. It was just…perfect. Giggling and messing around, just like you were as friends. Nothing had changed. Only now you were probably going to be bumping uglies on the regular… It was only right to make a new suggestion now. “Wanna make it a third?” 

“Thought you’d never ask,” he laughed, dipping his head to kiss your neck. You let yourself sink, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment until you remembered something. 

“Wait, wait—!” Your eyes flew open. “What’s the time?” 

Hoseok stopped and looked back, craning his neck to catch the time on your alarm clock. “Twenty past 7.” 

You groaned. “I have a class in 2 hours.” 

“Uhh,” he started awkwardly, pecking your lips. “This is new n’ all but I don’t want to get your hopes up so early into this. I will never be able to last two hours. You’ll be fine. You won’t miss class,” he chuckled. 

“Shut up,” you groaned, kissing him just to roll him on his back. The thought of leaving this bed today was depressing. “I’m just going to call in sick anyway.” You told him, pulling away.

He stroked his fingers through your hair, smirking. “Oh, a bad girl, huh?” 

You narrowed your eyes. If he wanted you to be bad, you could be bad. “Get a condom, Jung.” 

[knjoodles]

learn to love; jungkook | 02

pairing: teacher!jungkook x singleparent!reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 3k+

summary: raising your daughter alone while simultaneously watching your ex-husband live the life of his dreams away from the two of you hurts. badly. it hurts a little less, though, when you find an unlikely friend while looking for help.

lowercase intended

01 | 03 | 04

   it was day two of having to call your nanny for seyoung because you were too busy with work to get home at a godly hour. if it wasn’t for seulgi, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. anytime you needed her to cook, clean, or take care of your baby girl, she’d be on the case as soon as she could. seulgi means wisdom. you thought her parents couldn’t have chosen a better name for her.

   like you, seulgi has a passion for music. seulgi recently joined sm entertainment, not as a trainee, but as a songwriter. when she brought you the news that she’d been hired, you couldn’t have been more happy for her. over coffee, she explained to you how they offered her a position as a trainee for her voice, but she insisted she would go on as a songwriter because she loves taking care of children, especially seyoung. although seulgi was so cheerful to let you know, you felt as though you had dragged her down from something she may have considered a dream. as you confessed your worry, she begged you not to, saying she knew she wouldn’t be happy as an idol and that she’d get a larger sum of money as a songwriter. her words calmed you, making you feel like, for once, you haven’t done anything wrong. seulgi was like your second daughter, and you love her just as much as you love seyoung.

   “yes, (y/n), seyoung’s in bed! she begged me to make her something new for dinner, so we made pasta together. i just sent you a picture.” seulgi chuckled through the phone, your call about five minutes in.

   “ i’m so glad you guys had fun. i'm guessing she slept later than usual?” you sighed, relieved. you can always count on seulgi.

   “of course she did, you know how seyoung is.” you could practically see her cheerful smile through the phone. “she said, and i quote, ‘mommy isn’t here today, so i’ll go to sleep as late as i want!’ and about ten minutes after that, she was out cold.”

   “seulgi-ah, i can’t believe how lucky i am to have found you. i don’t think i say this enough, but thank you so, so much.” phone balancing between your ear and shoulder, you fumbled with your keys, pulling open your purse to find them.

   “it’s no problem, (y/n). you and seyoung are like my second family.” seulgi paused, the sound of a door shutting softly from the other end of the line. “and… i've cleaned up seyoung’s room! any plans for tonight?”

   “tonight?” you questioned aloud, finally finding your keys and stepping into your car. glancing at the digital clock on your dash, you realized it was three in the morning, and poor seulgi was still in your house watching over your daughter. “uh, well, i'm going to meet seyoung’s teacher at four, so that’s new.”

   seulgi giggled quietly. “did seyoung do something wrong? i know she’s naughty at home, but i never would’ve thought she would mess around at school!”

   “of course, not, she’s got (l/n) blood in her. we deceive everyone with out good looks and amazing personalities.” you joked, earning a shared laugh. “her teacher emailed the parents asking to meet with us, and i decided to sign up as soon as i could. he sounds really excited to get to know seyoung, so i’d like to get to know him.”

   “fair enough, (y/n)! if i may ask, how far away are you from home?” seulgi questioned, a tone of uneasiness in her voice.

   “about two-ish minutes away? why do you ask?” you answered, silently thanking the world that the traffic wasn’t bad this morning. after all, it’s three in the fucking morning. who other than rebellious teenagers or stressed-out parents are driving at this hour?

   “ah, no worries, then. i have classes today, and i thought i might be late or too tired to go if i stayed.” there was a short pause, the faint sound of your car pulling into the driveway on the other end. “i see you!” seulgi cheered. “i’ll come out to greet you, (y/n)."

   almost trudging out of your car, you emerged from the driver's seat, the garage noisily opening behind you. “hi, seulgi.” you groaned. the headlights of your car reflected against what storage you have inside of your garage, straining your eyes and what energy you had left at this point. seeing her approach, you grabbed onto her hands, holding them tightly and shaking them with a firm grip. “thank you, thank you so much for staying with seyoung this late. i know it inconvenienced you, and i'm sorry about that.”

   “(y/n), it’s fine! i'm just doin’ my job.” seulgi smiled crookedly, her hair falling towards her face. “good night!” seulgi waved, bowing politely before walking out of your garage cheerfully. you smiled and watched her get into her car, making sure she at least got in safe.

   the moment her car was out of sight you nearly collapsed in the middle of your garage from exhaustion. pulling your purse from the passenger’s seat, you closed your garage door, making sure to shut the door into your house from your garage to make sure seyoung was not disturbed. throwing your purse onto your desk in defeat, you pulled off your flats and shuffled towards your dresser. kicking off your pants angrily and throwing it, along with your shirt, into your hamper, you pulled on the nearest tank top you could and tumbled into your bed, allowing your body to be consumed in the sheets. you laid your head onto your pillow, holding your phone up to spot a new notification from seulgi. “oh, the picture.” you thought aloud.

   swiping up to see what she’d sent, a photo of a smiley seyoung, face covered in pasta sauce, greeted you, noodles laying across her face and being gripped in her small hands. it made you smile, seeing how happy your baby girl was. a second picture accompanied it, showing seulgi with a tomato sauce baby handprint on her left cheek, her and seyoung making silly faces.

   you put your phone to charge next to you, happy that your night — or day, rather — had ended on such a happy note. you felt yourself letting go of the ‘family’ mindset. all the family you needed was right here.

   you groaned in annoyance, the sunlight pouring from your window blinding your eyes as you opened them. adjusting your eyes to your current situation, you felt a huge pressure on your chest, wriggling under whatever was sitting on top of you. “mommy, mommy!” a girl’s voice chirped, shaking your shoulders lightly.

   “seyoung…?” you groaned, lifting your head to find your daughter straddling your stomach, smiling happily at you in her purple iridescent pajamas, the sunlight bouncing off of the sparkles creating a disco ball inside your bedroom.

   “mhm!” she nodded her head furiously. “mommy, it’s time for school. your alarm woke me up, but it didn’t wake you up, so i decided to be mommy’s alarm instead!” seyoung explained, letting herself fall onto the unoccupied pile of blanket next to you.

   shaking the covers loose, you emerged from your bed, bedhead and all. making her leave the room so you could quickly change into something more ‘responsible parent’ ready, you followed your marching daughter to her room, letting her pick out what she wanted to wear.  she twirled stylishly, modeling the new navy blue skirt you bought her, something newly added to her school’s uniform. “you look so pretty, se-se.” you complimented sleepily, chuckling at her playful spirit that could rise so early in the morning. it was something you always admired of your daughter, and you hoped she’d never lose it.

   you laughed happily at your daughter grabbing your wrist in determination and leading you back to your bedroom, where your large master bathroom stood. seyoung always told you how much she liked it in comparison to her bathroom, because in the master bathroom, she could sit on the counter and watch you style her hair from almost every angle. you pulled her up to the counter and brushed her hair, the brush falling gracefully, barely meeting a knot in her hair. knowing how much she enjoys wearing colorful clips with her outfits each day, you paired blue butterfly clips with her navy skirt. she seemed to enjoy this, pointing to the matching accessories with a wide grin on her face.

   “se-se,” you called, tieing your hair into a ponytail and putting a jacket on after putting her cereal on the dining table. “eat your breakfast! mommy has to make sure your teacher doesn’t think she looks silly.”

   seyoung’s giggles erupted from the far end of your house, the sounds of her small footsteps pattering against the hardwood floor approaching you quickly. “okay, mommy!” she bounced when she saw you, pausing for a moment before dashing towards the dining table to eat quickly. you chuckled at your daughter’s seemingly endless amount of excitement, reentering your bathroom to clean yourself up. looking up at your nude face, you sighed, spotting how deep your eye bags had gotten. from the time seyoung was born, caring about your looks became a thing of the past, but now, you’re starting to wonder whether or not you should get back on that self-confidence train. because right now, it looks like that train derailed, and even though it no longer has a path, it keeps on chugging. so, in conclusion, a bad thing’s consequences are finally showing up, and without dealing with that first bad thing, another bad thing is bound to happen. lightly dabbing on some concealer and foundation, you fixed the signs of a mother with ‘parent of the year’ button hanging by a thread. looking at yourself once again, you felt a pot of confidence beginning to bubble in your chest. makeup isn’t necessary and never will be, but sometimes, it’s nice to feel nice.

   “i’m done!” seyoung called, the sound of cluttered dishes in the kitchen sink clattering against each other.

   “be careful!” you warned, worried she may break something and end up hurting herself or damaging something else. fear piling up in your mind as you imagined each and every terrible outcome possible, you rushed towards the living room, just to find a calm seyoung sitting on the couch, her backpack securely attached to her back and her legs dangling from the floor. sighing silently in relief, you adjusted your posture, offering your hand to your daughter. “ready to go?” you smiled brightly as you felt your larger palm engulf her soft hand.

   “seyoungie, i’m meeting your teacher today!” you said happily, eyes darting towards the rear-view mirror to see her mid-drive.

   “really?” she smiled, kicking her legs in excitement. “you’re meeting mr. jeon?” her voice became higher, indicating her exhilaration.

   “mhm!” you nodded, amused at how elated she was at this news. “how’s mr. jeon, anyway? do you like him? is he fun?” you asked, wanting to know what exactly made her so enthusiastic about this specific teacher. in the past, seyoung’s always been excited for school, but never her teachers. she’d go on and on about what drama her seven-year-old classmates would have, but never completely ditch the narrative to talk about a teacher.

   “i really, really like mr. jeon, mommy.” seyoung explained, hugging her lunchbox. “on the first day of school, he gave us all these gummy candies that are supposed to be healthy for us, and gave us an extra one whenever we got the names right in the name game we were playing! he did it so we could get to know everyone in the class. and- and then, he showed us his tangerine points! for every time the class does well on a quiz or something, then we get a tangerine point! if we get ten tangerine points by the end of the year, he said we can have a tangerine party!” she squealed, kicking her legs even faster at the thought of treats — it was one incentive for kids, but something completely different for seyoung. she loves snacks, no matter what it is. if you have celery, and you offer her one, she’ll ask for more until you say no. but, then again, who could say no to such a cute face? “oh! oh! and, he’s a super fun teacher. yeah, he makes math fun. and you know mommy, you know how much i don’t like math.”

   “yes, baby, i know. math is our mortal enemy.” you laughed, finally arriving at her school. you looked over the dashboard, searching for an empty spot to park.

   “there he is!” seyoung yelled, slamming her hands up against the window. “that’s mr. jeon! that’s him!”

   “seyoung! you nearly scared the life out of me!” you gripped your wheel in shock, the loud bang of her palms hitting the glass startling you to a point you didn’t even know she could. thankfully, you’d gotten in the spot safely without hitting anyone in the process.

   “awe, mommy, you missed it! now he’s in the school.” she pout, crossing her arms against her lunchbox.

   you stepped out of your car carefully, taking a deep breath of fresh, outside air to calm your senses. “baby, i know you’re excited about your teacher, but you can’t scare mommy like that. we could’ve gotten hurt, you know, and that wouldn’t be fun. if you get hurt, mommy will be sad, daddy will be sad, mr. jeon will be sad, and so will all your friends!” you pulled seyoung out of her car seat, pulling her bag from the spot next to her and handing it to her.

   “what about yubin auntie?” seyoung asked, looking up at you in wonder, still clutching her lunchbox.

   “yes, also yubin auntie.” you swallowed your anger and nodded, knowing that seyoung’s relationship with ‘yubin auntie’ was much more friendly and less backstabbing than yours. “we’ll all be sad.” the two of you walked into seyoung’s school, seyoung greeting her friends older and younger than her and you earning smiles and waves from those you’re familiar with. she led you to her room quickly, where she opened the door to reveal it.

   the classroom was decorated beautifully, bright colors and fun posters and class supplies adorning the walls. the whiteboard was labeled very neatly, with the tangerine point scoreboard drawn in its own box, embellished with cute magnets that were found across the board as well, mostly being used to hold up pieces of paper. you turned to the wall next to you, which held petite hooks where his students could put their bags, a little name tag above each one in each child’s handwriting, decorated the way they liked. your eyes, flying from decoration to inspirational poster and back to a decoration finally landed on the teacher himself, who was leaning over his desk to what looked like thumb through some papers.

   “mr. jeon!” seyoung called, her teacher’s head immediately turning to see who’d called him over, looking to be near your age. “mr. jeon, good morning!” she waved vigorously.

   “seyoung!” he replied, a dazzling smile cracking across his face. you, now getting a good look at her teacher, now saw why seyoung was so enthusiastic about him. with just one word, you could tell just how devoted he was to each and every one of his students. you could basically see the same excitement in seyoung’s eyes reflected in his own. not to mention, he was insanely attractive — but it’s not like seyoung was old enough to worry about that, yet. “good morning to you, too! how are you?"

   “i'm good!” seyoung piped, waddling over to place her bag on her designated hook. “that’s my mommy!” she motioned to you, mr. jeon’s soft, brown eyes immediately meeting yours.

   “ah, the famous ms. (l/n)!” he smiled, walking closer to you. “seyoung, you can sit down until class starts! i’ll talk to your mom for a little bit.” he asked, nodding towards her seat. you’ve never seen seyoung respond to an order from an adult so quickly. honestly, you were a little jealous. “seyoung is quite the talker, but you wouldn’t believe how much she talks about you. and now, day four into the new school year, i can finally meet you!” he offered his hand to you, you holding it lightly to shake it.

   “oh, that’s so flattering,” you chuckled, glancing down at his hand. huh, no ring. “we’re set up for a four pm parent meeting today? i just wanted to pop in to get to know you and see the classroom seyoung goes on and on about. she talks about you a lot, too.” you complimented.

   “yes, we are! and, i’m so happy to hear seyoung likes me and my class. i remember when i was a student, i had this epiphany: a teacher’s job is to teach because they want to teach, so why not make the students come because they want to learn? so, i build my teaching style around that, but, i make sure i don’t distract them too much with the gifts and games. school’s main purpose is knowledge, right?” he joked, laughing heartily.

   “i'm very happy that seyoung is happy at school. you’re truly making her day. i do have to run now, but i’ll see you later at four, hopefully, to discuss seyoung and more about your class?” you asked, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. fuck, did that make you look uncomfortable? well, you’re always uncomfortable, but it’s not because of him nor this conversation!

  while you were in your state of mild panic, mr. jeon flashed you the same energetic smile he gave seyoung. “of course and of course! i look forward to seeing you again, miss…?” he trailed off, hoping to get your name.

   “(y/n).” you replied, feeling confident, though not understanding why your cheeks felt so hot. “(y/n), seyoung’s mother.” you reiterated, adding a fact about yourself you were most proud of.

   “miss (y/n), seyoung’s mother.” he repeated, his face softening to an understanding look, his lips curling upwards. “until we meet again, miss (y/n)." tag list: 

@ggsmashgg​, @childishbxmbino​

[stellar-starseed]

Teacher’s Pet

Group: Ateez

Pairing: Student!Mingi x Teacher;Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,299

Summary: Mingi’s senior year takes a turn as he finds himself entangled with his teacher.

Part: 4

Other Chapter(s): Master List

Warnings: 18+, language, drug use, sexual content, themes of grooming

Part IV

A routine call with your fiancé on his trip turned into a conversation about having kids. You quickly became annoyed. After you mentioned wanting to have a life before children, your fiancé grew distant.

Your call ended soon after. You didn’t want to hurt him, but this was not where your mind was at this time. You needed freedom, time to discover. You weren’t ready to give every waking moment to another being right now.

You pulled out your phone and scrolled through Mingi’s Instagram. You smiled at his cute photos. You bit down on your lip as you contemplated texting him. You threw your phone down on your bed realizing it wasn’t a good idea. You quickly picked up your phone and flipped through your open apps to get to Instagram. You clicked accept on Mingi’s request.

Mingi wasn’t pleased to hear Sara had told the guys about a party. Jungho pulled up in his smoke filled car. Mingi was thankful for the weed, as he was not feeling up to social interaction with his peers. He wasn’t feeling much like he had peers at the moment. Mingi felt sort of in between worlds.

“I didn’t know Hongjoong’s dad was loaded!” Yunho shouts.

“Dude, I’m right here.” Jungho covered his ear. “And this is the same house from the last party.” He took one last hit before tossing the remaining bit of joint out the window.

The party had started well before they had arrived and a few were even passed out on the way in. Mingi followed his best friends and they headed for the alcohol. Sara, seemingly popping up out of no where, wraps her arms around Mingi. He chuckles and hugs her back. Yunho offers them both drinks.

Sara manages to get Mingi out on the dance floor, and though Mingi didn’t feel much like socializing he did love to dance. He spent the better part of an hour keeping up with Sara. With sweat dripping down his face he couldn’t help but smile. Sara did have a way of making him feel a little more connected.

Mingi decided it was time to rest. Sara didn’t feel the same. She tugged at his arm and gave a small pout. Mingi laughed and shook his head. Sara gave up easily and began dancing with a new partner.

“Fuck you!” Yeosang said staring directly at Yunho.

“Fuck you back, man!” Yunho laughed as he guzzled down his drink. Mingi walks into the tense situation with a questioning look.

“My sister man?” Yeosang says.

“It’s over.” Mingi stepped up and placed his hand on Yeosang’s shoulder. Yunho gave a sad look to Mingi that no one seemed to catch.

“Yeosang, you’re sister’s smarter than that.” Jungho laughed. “She dumped him!”

“Hey, fuck off with that. She did not.” Yunho slammed his plastic cup down on the counter with a lot less dramatic effect than he wanted.

“Yeah? Then why’d you leave the dance without a date?” Jungho couldn’t help but laugh.

“Chill Jungho.” Mingi said.

“Piece of shit.” Yunho said with gritted teeth.

“Come on man. You know he really likes her.” Mingi said.

“Yunho? Play boy Yunho really likes my sister?” Yeosang scoffed. They were buddies but Yeosang always knew Yunho to be a player he couldn’t see him taking much of anything serious.

“He does.” Mingi nodded.

“Well, no one has to worry about that.” Jungho mumbled.

Yeosang’s gritted fists loosened. He grabbed the bottle on the counter and filled his cup. He headed back out to the party.

“Fuck him.” Yunho said. “And fuck you, too.” He pointed at Jungho.

“Well, we know why Yunho left early.” Jungho said rolling his eyes at Yunho and blatantly changing the subject. “What we don’t know is where you went. So, what about you, why’d you leave early?” Jungho and Yunho both turned towards Mingi with expectant looks.

“Oh, you know, I just wasn’t feeling right. I guess I had one too many.”

“So, he finally admits it!” Yunho announces. “Song Mingi cannot hold his liquor! You heard it straight from the asshole’s mouth!”

“Fuck off.” Mingi laughs.

“I’m gonna find someone to dance with assholes.” Yunho downs another drink and walks away.

“Seriously, Mingi, I’m your closest friend. What happened? Why’d you leave early?” Jungho questioned.

“Seriously, Jungho. I got sick and left.” Mingi shrugged it off and sat down at the counter. Jungho was soon pulled away by an older woman and Mingi was glad to be left alone.

Sara found him on another lap around the house and decided they should leave together. Mingi agreed. He hoped she didn’t expect sex from this interaction, but he prepared himself to go the distance if he had to. He felt bad for having these thoughts, but he felt so disconnected from his peers. He didn’t want to look or seem out of place because he had no answers for his feelings at the moment.

Sara intertwined her fingers with Mingi’s and they headed to her car. The ride to Sara’s house was familiar for Mingi. He sunk down into the seat and pushed the shoulder strap over his head. The faint music of the radio lulled Mingi into a light sleep. His face was pressed against the cool window.

When Sara stopped the car, she didn’t want to wake him. Instead she kept driving. The faint music kept her in her thoughts and the near quiet drive was nice. It was even nice to spend time with a sleeping Mingi. There was something familiar and all too comforting about his presence.

After some time of aimless driving, Sara found herself stopped in front of Mingi’s place. It seemed right, she thought to herself as she leaned over and gently caressed his cheek.

“Mm?” Mingi stirred and sat up. “Oh, crap. I’m sorry.” He shook his head and looked at his hands in his lap.

“I’m sorry I keep messing things up, Sara.” Mingi looked at her this time. She offered another sweet smile and nodded.

“Go get some rest, Min.” Sara pat his leg and Mingi obeyed as best he could.

He slumped up the stairs to his house and found his mother washing dishes in the kitchen. He headed over to lean on the counter next to her. She smiled down at him and Mingi felt a bit sad that he had been distant even from her lately.

“Did you have fun with your friends?” She asked. Mingi nodded and gave a small smile. He lightly hugged his mom and told her goodnight.

“Don’t forget you’re watching your brothers tomorrow night!” Mingi nodded and waived her off as he headed to his room.

His nights were filled with thoughts of you, and tonight was no different. Mingi tossed and turned in bed only nodding off a few moments before his alarm went off.

There was nothing memorable about the day. Mingi tried to make it on two cups of high voltage gas station coffee, but that was falling short to keep his energy going. The day went by in a blur and Mingi was glad to hear the final bell.

Mingi went out of his way to walk past your classroom before he left and you were not there. He was a little let down when he couldn’t see you for the day, but he had to take care of his siblings.

When Mingi got home with his brothers, he pushed them upstairs and told them to wash up. He headed to the kitchen to start dinner, or heat up the dinner his mother already made. He set up the table for his brothers and headed to take a shower while they ate.

Mingi heard his phone chime as he dried his hair. When he found a picture of you in a black lace bra, his mouth fell open. Your message asked him to meet you at the park. Mingi quickly got dressed and asked the usual babysitter to stand in.

The cold air hit Mingi and he felt exhilarated. He jogged towards the park a few blocks away. He couldn’t help but be pumped up to see you. He wasn’t sure why you would even look his way. He wanted to tell you how he felt, but he was nervous you would reject him entirely.

Mingi waited for less than five minutes before he saw your car pulling up. He climbed into the passenger’s side and you headed to a familiar spot. You parked the car and Mingi was ready to climb in the back when your hand was on his thigh stopping him.

You asked him to take his pants off and he was glad to do so. Your eyes caressed his every move. It wasn’t easy to restrain at any point in time around him, but it was much harder in these moments.

Once Mingi had his pants down you were climbing over the center console. It was becoming increasingly more common for you to wear dresses or items easily discarded when you met with Mingi. His hands immediately slide up your thighs, ready to pull down your underwear when he discovers you aren’t wearing any. His approving smile causes you to lean down and kiss his beautiful lips. You spend little time preparing. You wrap your hand around his hard cock, line him up with your opening and lower yourself down slowly.

“Fuck.” Mingi whispered. His lips found their way to your neck and he gave you gentle kisses and sucked on your collar bone. His hands wandered your entire body. You couldn’t help but lose yourself with Mingi. He was very attentive and only seemed to get better.

“Mingi, shit!” You moan as you pick up your pace. He whispers to himself how wet you are. You roll your hips into his, trying to get the best angle and pace with your limited space. You both seem in good rhythm when you hit your head on the roof of the car. You both pause to laugh. Mingi stops as he realizes how beautiful you are when you smile.

Mingi wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, he pulled you in for a kiss. He commanded the kiss. His tongue quickly found its way to caressing yours. Mingi’s free hand was soon pulling you down by your hips. You obliged and slip back down on his cock. Instantly calling out involuntary as he hit the perfect spot. You both tried to continue to reach that spot.

Mingi gently directed you back, your hands were grabbing the dashboard bracing yourself. Mingi’s hands were grasping at your hips, guiding you.

“Fuck,” you breathed. “I’m close. Oh god!”

“Me too.” Mingi thrust up into you erratically as you both found your high.

As you both came down you found yourself cuddling him, and he found himself kissing every inch of available skin as he played with your hair. Mingi liked this, being inside you as he went soft with your arms wrapped around him. He was in no rush to go anywhere.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said lowly after you both get dressed. He gave you a lingering kiss on the lips. “I really like you.” You smile at him and place your hand on his cheek.

“I mean I really like you, ______.” You can’t help but smile at his words. Even though he was much younger than you were he was so mature and he gave you things your fiancé couldn’t. You really wanted Mingi to like you and after hearing him say the words out loud you were ecstatic.

“I really like you too, Mingi.” You’re almost shy to say the words out loud yourself, and you look away. Mingi turns your face towards his and your lips are soon met by Mingi’s. His arms wrap around you and he pulls you as close as he can. He leaned back, pausing for a moment to look at you. He can’t get over this situation he finds himself in.

“What is it?” You question. Mingi smiles and shakes his head. He leans in a bit to give you a sweet kiss.

This time there were no study sessions at the restaurant. The sessions happened in more inconspicuous places. Places where holding hands and blatant flirting wouldn’t be noticed by people from school. You both fell into this fantasy world with each other. Mingi looked forward to every weekend because he could spend time with you.

“We have to set some rules.” You say one night after you noticed some lingering stares from passers by. Your rules were simple, but mostly in your favor. You had all the control, just how you liked it.

Mingi wasn’t pleased about giving up all control, but he obliged. Mingi was glad to be with you. He was overwhelmed by his feelings for you and was ready to do what was necessary just to be by your side.

When Mingi got home that night his mother was up at the kitchen table. The look on her face made his heart sink.

“Where were you?”

“I was just—“

“You know what? I don’t want to hear it! One night, Mingi. I ask you for one damned night.” She sighed and stands up.

“Your baby brother burned himself by the way.” She said before heading out of the room.

Mingi mouthed ‘fuck’ as he ran his fingers through his hair. He headed to his room and paced back and forth. He couldn’t seem to keep any one part of his life on the same track.

Mingi stood in front of his mirror. He stared at himself for a short while. A Million and one thoughts ran through his head.

“Song Mingi, you’re the fucking man!” He psyched himself up.

———————————————————————————-

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed.

Catch you on the next episode. Stay golden.✨

[flwrpotts]

hands down

or: seven times jughead didn’t confess he loved betty and one time he did. some tooth rotting fluff to get us thru quarantine. the structure and concept of this fic is inspired by this. enjoy!

1. 

He knew that Archie’s bachelor party was going to end badly for him. It had started with Archie pressing a tequila shot into his hand before they had even gone to dinner, c’mon, Jug, it’s the only bachelor party I’m ever going to have! while Reggie and Moose had cheered in the background. He took the shot, lukewarm citrus and a rubbing alcohol bite. They drank steadily through dinner, boisterous and loud, and now they’re in a packed strip club, sweaty and bright with flashing lights.

He hasn’t been this drunk since college, five years at least, and he can feel himself slurring as he talks to Archie, everything hysterically funny all of a sudden. Betty texts him, a selfie of her and Veronica in a sleek looking bar, holding up their glasses of wine. Hope you’re having fun! she sends, and Jughead tries to formulate a text back, si goood i miss yoi so mughc, followed by a truly horrendous string of emojis.

Betty’s contact info lights up on the screen with an incoming call, and Jughead stumbles outside, away from the boiling music of the club. The night air is sharp with cold, and he sucks in an inhale, trying to clear the spinning in his brain.

“Hello?” he slurs into the phone, leaning heavily against the brick wall. Betty laughs, amused, and he misses her terribly, misses her even though he saw her that morning.

“Hi, Juggie,” she says. “Having fun?”

“I’m never doing tequila shots again,” he says, vowels blurry around the edge. “Not even for Archie.”

She laughs again, tinkling and amused, Veronica’s tipsy bright voice in the background. “You’re going to be okay getting home?” she asks, the faintest slip of concern in her voice.

“I’ll be fine,” he says, and suddenly the last round of shots catches up with him, any facade of sobriety gone. “I miss you so much,” he whispers into the phone, the words mushy and almost indiscernible. “Love you.”

There’s a quick, sharp intake of breath Jughead is almost too inebriated to catch.

“I’ll see you soon,” she says before the call clicks off. They don’t discuss it.

2. 

Jughead hauls Betty up onto the counter, his teeth already against her collarbone. This is something they indulge in rarely, when neither of them are seeing someone, or when work gets particularly stressful. Betty moans, and he gets a hand up to cup the back of her head, keeping her from knocking her head against the kitchen cabinets.

“Jug, Jug,” she says into his mouth, yanking up his shirt and getting her hands onto his stomach, nails sweeping low over his waistband. He has goosebumps running down his spine, and his blood rushes hot through his head, leaving no room for intellectual thought. He undoes the button and zipper of her jeans, his fingers clumsy with anticipation.

She sinks her teeth into his bottom lip, hard, and Jughead doesn’t know what to do with his hands, his brain is detached from the rest of his body. He hikes up her legs around his waist, pulling her even closer, and his vision is blurred with the flyaways of blonde hair and the sound of his name in her mouth. Her heel is pressed into the small of his back, keeping him pressed hard against her.

Betty moans again, louder this time, and Jughead’s hand flies to her mouth, remembering too late the thin walls of their apartment. Her breath is hot against his wrist, and his thumb dips against her bottom lip, mouth open. Her eyes open, a clear bright green, and it’s easily the hottest thing he’s ever seen, his pulse wired to hers.

“Fuck me,” she whispers into his palm. He wants to yank on her ponytail, wants to lick the cherry chapstick off of her mouth, wants to stay inside this moment forever, suspended by the longing.

He presses his mouth to the fragile, ivory skin of her neck as he fumbles to unhook her bra, and he exhales iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou, fervent and sticky hot, like a prayer, lost in the press of their mouths against one another.

3.

Jughead waits for Valentine’s Day to arrive with the dread of a condemned man facing an executioner. The days of February tick by, and he waits patiently for Betty to mention a new romance, a guy she’s been seeing or a surprise hot date for the most romantic night of the year, waits for the Jones luck to really kick in. Finally, it’s the morning of, and she pads into the kitchen, startlingly beautiful in an oversized t-shirt and socks, glasses perched on her face, no mention of any plans.

“Dinner tonight?” he asks, all casual, heart in his throat, and Betty hums her agreement, absentminded and pouring coffee.

“Yeah, sure,” she says. “I get out of class at six, so six thirty?”

He makes reservations at a nice restaurant, dresses up in a nice shirt and yanks at the collar, feels awkward and out of place as the hostess guides him to the table, watching the elegantly paired up couples around him. The menu is definitely out of his price range, but he figures if he’s going to tell her he might as well make the grand gesture, give her the sort of romance she deserves.

Betty walks into the restaurant and for a single second everything in his head goes blank. It’s a secret phenomenon Jughead wouldn’t even know how to explain, the way she numbs everything out, makes everything better.

She folds herself into the seat in front of him, wearing a breezy, careless lavender dress and that familiar smile, ponytail falling in a perfect twist.

“God,” she says, picking up the menu and flicking through it mindlessly. “You won’t believe what happened in the coffee shop today. Is there anything more cliche than confessing your love on Valentine’s Day?”

He freezes.

4.

Jughead gets home to the apartment late, cranky after being stuck in a social for the MFA students in his program. He yanks at his ill-fitting tie as he walks in the door, feeling some of the tension starting to seep out of his shoulders.

“Betts?” he calls, taking in the warm yellow glow of the hallway, light left on despite the lateness of the hour. Remnants of Betty’s evening are scattered through the apartment- dishes in the sink, a neat plate of leftovers in the fridge with a post-it note stuck on top, bolognese if you’re hungry <3

He steps into the living room, and Betty is passed out on the couch, surrounded by a stack of freshly graded papers, the sharp elegance of her  handwriting crawling across the pages in bright red. She’s slumped at what must be an uncomfortable angle, legs tucked up underneath her and her head propped on her shoulder. The fondness pangs in Jughead’s ribs, sharp with longing. He just stares at her for a moment, the fine curl of the baby hairs at her temple, her mouth just a little bit open with sleep, all the lines in her face smoothed.

She’s so relaxed that Jughead doesn’t want to wake her, potentially kickstart the insomnia he knows gets to her when she’s stressed. So he picks up an old quilted afghan off of the other edge of the couch, tucks it up around her shoulders. Betty sighs in her sleep, shifting into the blanket and kicking one leg out.

I love you, Jughead mouths. I love you. Betty turns in her sleep, eyelids fluttering, and Jughead shuts the light off behind her, head full of the things he wishes he could tell her.

5.

It’s Friday night, and the two of them are tipsy from the shared bottle of red wine, sprawled out on the living room floor with a Scrabble board between them. Betty sits cross-legged, flushed high in her cheeks from the wine and her hair loose around his shoulders. Jughead is raggedy in an old pair of plaid pajama pants and a threadbare t-shirt.

It’s his favorite kind of evening, Chinese takeout for dinner and easy conversation, laughing as Betty struggles with the wine bottle opener.

Now Betty is staring at her Scrabble tiles with intense concentration, a line between her eyebrows that he wants to smooth out with his finger.

“If you try to pass off a word that you made up again-” he warns, only half joking. Betty gasps in mock outrage, one hand to her chest. “I would expect someone getting their Masters in Psychology to have a more refined sense of ethics.”

“I would neve cheat at Scrabble,” she says imperiously, laying out her tiles and spinning the board back over to him. Zale reads the word in front of him. Betty, for her part, tries to look impartial and doesn’t quite manage it, the smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. Jughead feels the warmth burn inside of his chest.

“I love it when we do this,” he blurts out suddenly, awkward and out of place. Betty smiles at him, presses her hand to his from across the board.

“Me too,” she says. “And that will be twelve points for me, if you please.”

He loves her, but not enough to let her get away with such a stunningly illegal move. The night goes on.

6.

Dear Betty,

I am writing to you now because I’m too terrified to tell you in person but I also can’t keep going on this way. Maybe a letter is the coward’s way out, but I prefer to think about it as romantic. To quote the genius herself (Jane Austen)- if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more. And I do love you.

I don’t know if it was at first sight, but do I know that the first time I saw you in that terrible freshman English lecture, it felt like something was beginning. Like some part of me knew that I was going to fall in love with you, my brain just hadn’t quite caught up yet. In some ways it still hasn’t. The way I feel about you has nothing to do with logic.

You’re my roommate and my best friend and my fellow true crime obsessee and the best fucking person I know. Having you in my life is one of the things I’m most proud of, and I’ve been so scared to ruin what we have, because in a lot of ways I think you’re the best part of me. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t there anymore. But I also can’t keep swallowing it down anymore. I guess I just have to trust that we’ll find a way to be in one another’s lives, no matter the capacity. Even if you don’t feel the same way.

Well, now you know. I love you. The ball is in your court, and it’ll really be okay if you don’t feel that way. I just need to know. So- come find me?

Yours,

Jughead

He sighs at the piece of paper, and balls it up with a groan, tossing it into the trash can with a faint thud.

7.

It happens so fast Jughead barely has time to react.

They’re crossing the street of their apartment to get to their favorite overpriced but delicious coffee shop, chatting idly about Betty’s thesis advisor and her obsession with Lorrie Moore, and then the taxi comes out of nowhere against the light, inches away and Betty a step in front of him.

Jughead grabs her by the elbow and yanks her back in the nick of time, all adrenaline, moving before he even has time to process the danger, clumsy and fast. The taxi swerves past, a flurry of horns from the surrounding cars, and they stumble in an awkward, half time waltz back onto the sidewalk. Betty’s eyes are huge when she looks at him, shocked, his hand still fisted in the material of her coat.

“Holy fucking shit,” he swears, tongue a jumble. “Are you alright?” He begins to pat her down over her wool jacket, searching for potential injuries.

Betty laughs, still in shock at the suddenness of it all. “I’m fine,” she says, pressing a hand against her forehead. “I’m totally fine. You grabbed me in time.”

Jughead sighs out a shuddery, terrified exhale. The closeness of the encounter is still racketing through him, fear and relief pulsing through the veins in his wrist. His hands are shaking, and Betty squeezes one tightly in hers, reassuring.

“That was scary,” she remarks, and Jughead nods, for once beyond words. “The drivers in this city are ridiculous.”

“No kidding. I’m- I’m glad you’re okay,” he says, squeezing before he releases her hand. Betty smiles at him, easy and fond. It’ll take twenty minutes and two cups of decaf for his heartbeat to slow down.

8.

They’re brushing their teeth side by side in the bathroom, seeped with the laziness of Saturday morning. There’s coffee percolating in the kitchen, and Jughead knows without asking that Betty will scramble the eggs so long as he makes waffles, that they’ll sit at the tiny kitchen counter for an hour, sipping at their lukewarm coffee and talking about nothing. It strikes him, quite suddenly, that this is how he’d like to spend the rest of his life.

Betty is wearing just one of his t-shirts, her hair knotted into a bun at the top of her head, talking to him through the foam. Jughead, blue toothbrush in hand, turns to her, deliberate and suddenly unafraid. “Betty,” he says, and she turns to him, gaze curious, and he looks for a moment at their reflection in the bathroom mirror, a portrait of exactly where he wants to be. “I love you.”

“What?” Betty asks, and there’s toothpaste smudged on her cheek, eyes wide.

“I love you,” he says, heart in his stomach again. Betty grins at him, slow and wide and perfect,

“I love you,” she says, like it’s the easiest, most natural thing in the world. He ducks down to kiss her, and her mouth is chapped and minty, and their teeth click together in his haste, and it’s pretty much the best moment of his life.

[chemartsblog]

Wide Enough

Pairing: Sokka/Zuko

Tags: PWP, ABO Dynamics

Based on the Avatar Kink Meme Prompt: Zuko taking a very large, wide, dildo. Gasps and whimpers and maybe even a bit of weeping as it is put into him slowly. With a robe on, when he stands? From the right angle his spread cheeks give the illusion of hips, and the girth forces him to walk almost like a woman.

(And spirits help him if he can make himself tight enough for his partner/master tonight...)

The bedroom air seems to tingle with electricity and heat. Zuko is in a short glossy red silk robe that just barely covers his ass; his skin is gleaming under the firelight. His hair is still damp from the shower, the scent of fire-lilies and jasmines wafting through the room. He waits with a palpitating heart for his beloved. Already he can feel the slick start to dampen the robes, but he can’t wait; he can’t stop thinking about what’s to come.

The fullness, the release of his tight control, his beloved’s arms around him, his scent filling his every pore.

He shudders, hands moving down his chest, stroking his erect nipples. His thighs press close together, closing in on his omega cocklet, letting him feel the sweet friction against his leaking member. He might not be in heat, but he can still feel the fire licking under his skin just thinking of what’s to come.

“Someone’s excited.”

 Zuko turns to the door and whimpers. Sokka’s standing in the doorway, blue eyes stormy as he takes in Zuko. His mouth slightly parted as he breathes in the scent of fire-lilies and jasmine. He closes the heavy door with a resounding thunk, and stalks forward.

His big strong hands grip Zuko’s hips and pulls him close, flush against the water tribesman. The Fire Lord swallows thickly when he feels the hot erection pressed against this abdomen. Sokka looks down on him with hungry predatory eyes.

 “You smell lovely.” He whispers gracing his nose lightly over Zuko’s hair. “What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?”

That should be Zuko’s question. Eight years after the end of the hundred-year war, and Zuko still doesn’t know how he got so lucky to have Sokka in his life. He wraps his arms around Sokka’s neck and presses his nose to the tanned skin.

 It’s the smell of the sea, of metal and fire, and of home. But underneath all those familiar scents is the musky smell of Rut. It makes him keen and rub himself against the thick erection straining against Sokka’s pants. He wants. He wants so bad.

But Sokka’s patient, even with the rut. He pulls Zuko back, one hand cupping his cheek and the other massaging his plush ass. “Shh not yet darling.” He says. “You’re not prepped yet.”

Zuko whines, “Sokka, please please. I want it soon.” His ass is already clenching and twitching. Slick coating his thighs.

Sokka smiles and strokes his thumb over Zuko’s lips. “I know. If I could I’d have you already thrown on the bed and putting your pretty ass on my cock. But we have to prep first.”

 The pale man swallows. His heartbeat shoots up, and he trembles with anticipation. Sokka pulls away and goes to the drawers, he takes out a bottle of lube, and a long thick dildo. The sight makes Zuko’s mouth water. Sokka walks to him with a knowing look.

“Turn around and put your hands on the wall.” He commands.

Zuko turns without question; his shaking hands reach out to balance himself against the wall as he leans forward so his ass is presented before Sokka. The alpha sighs, enamored by the beautiful sight of his love presenting so prettily for him.

“Good omega.” He praises. It makes Zuko’s belly flutter and fill with heat.

Sokka’s hands caress the silk clad ass and flips the material over so that he can see the bare pale skin and leaking hole. His dick is heavy throbbing at the sight of his love’s beautiful alabaster ass, but he pushes down the desire. He kneels and leans his face forward, the scent of Zuko getting stronger as noses against the seam of his butt and then he parts the cheeks and sucks.

 Zuko moans wantonly when he feels Sokka’s tongue breach his hot slick hole. The velvety walls clenching around his tongue and slick gushing against his mouth. Sokka laps it all eagerly, letting the taste of Zuko envelope him. He keeps sucking and licking his way around the sweet sweet ass. His hands gripping the plush globs tightly.

He wants to them to leave bruises when he’s done with the beautiful Fire Lord. He wants Zuko to remember this touch when he sits on his throne and pretends not to be aroused as he addresses his ministers. The ghost of Sokka’s grip, his tongue, his dick teasing the man until he’s desperately wet and begging Sokka to help him. Please.

 Sokka’s pulling away, but Zuko whines as he tries to push his ass back against his face. The darker man chuckles and puts a hand on his back.

“Soon, love soon.” He promises as he coats his fingers in lube. Zuko may be wet and slick, but Sokka wants to make sure his omega is comfortable. He stands and drapes himself over the smaller man’s back. He teasingly rubs his clothed cock against Zuko, making the other man glare at him.

“S-stop t-teasing me.” he stutters. Zuko’s face is flushed red, sweat making his skin dewy and reflecting the soft light of the room. Sokka chuckles and lets his fingers rub against Zuko’s hole.

“Sorry darling. I can’t help it.” He says unabashedly. With that he plunges two fingers in, relishing the feel of his walls bearing down against him. Zuko moans and sighs happily as his hole is filled again. Sokka’s fingers are magic. He knows Zuko’s body well and twist those clever digits to rub and thrust against the spots that make the other man see stars. From the musical sounds of Zuko’s moaning and gasping, he knows it’s working well.

“Feeling good?” Sokka asks.

“Yes~. More please.”

 At that he puts another two fingers in stretching the elastic puffy hole. He marvels at the way Zuko’s body seems to suck in his fingers. They glisten with his slick and lube. Zuko’s flush face is another beautiful marvel. His cheek is pressed flush against the wall, long hair falling away around his neck. His golden eyes are glazed and clouded with bliss, pink lips are open and glistening.

 The desire is coursing through his bloodstream. His cock is aching in the confines of his pants, but he waits. He must be patient. No matter how amazingly appetizing Zuko looks, he needs to wait and prepare. He would never want to hurt his beloved.

 After a few more thrusts, Sokka takes out his wet sticky fingers and takes out the dildo. He liberally coats it with lube and presses a kiss against Zuko’s neck.

“Are you ready, my love?”

“Yes. Always.”

“Tell me if it hurts okay?” Sokka says. Slowly he presses the dildo’s head against Zuko’s hold. There’s little resistance as he pushes the head in.

 Zuko moans and keens as he feels the dildo slowly fill him. His hole is stretching wide, spreading his cheeks and trembling legs. It rubs against his prostate so sweetly and combined with the comforting scent of Sokka surrounding him, Zuko comes for the first time that night. His cocklet releasing a small spurt of slick, and his ass twitching and convulsing around the dildo.

“oOOOhHh Sokka~” he cries breathily. The taller man sucks in a deep breath as he watches Zuko cum and spurt against the wall. His legs tremble and nearly buckle if it weren’t for Sokka’s strong arms holding him and keeping him up.

“That was so hot.” Sokka whispers. “Can I keep going? Please can I keep going?”

Zuko nods weakly, “Yes.”

 Sokka looks back down, he’s already halfway there, the largest part of the dildo is nearly through. With slow deliberate motions, he pushes the dildo all the way in. Zuko is choking and gasping at the feeling of fullness. Sokka takes Zuko’s hand in his and brings it down towards his slightly distended stomach. He presses against the taunt muscles. His lover shivers and shakes, gasping for precious air. Sokka smiles into Zuko’s neck.

“You’re just stuffed full with a cock huh? Do you love having a thick dildo spreading you apart?”

“Yes, yes I love it. I love being sooo fulll.” Zuko cries.

Sokka grins and leans away. He looks down and marvels at the sight. Zuko’s cheeks are spread apart, giving the illusion of bigger hips, the dark base of the dildo peaking out and his distended hole is drooling with slick, coating the pale thighs and dripping onto the floor.

 The alpha preens at his handiwork and admires it for a minute longer. His hands reverently caressing his ass before giving it a sharp slap on his cheeks. Zuko cries out in pleasure at the sharp sting. Sokka brings his hands down again. Once. Twice. Three times.

 Each time Sokka spanks him, Zuko can feel the vibrations to his full ass, jostling the dildo inside him. He’s so tempted to put his hands back and fuck himself on the dildo, but Sokka would be so disappointed. He doesn’t want to disappoint his alpha. So, he curls his hands against the wall and waits.

Sokka pulls away and walks over to the bed. Sitting down against the soft blankets with his legs wide apart, showing off the huge bulge in his pants.

“Come here darling.” He commands.

Zuko’s shaking as he pushes himself away from the wall. His legs are trembling with each step. With his ass so full, he walks almost like a woman. Hips shaking with each step, and slick dripping down from his thighs. Zuko stands before Sokka, flushed and panting, and so so desperately aroused and wanting.

 “Kneel, love.” He orders.

Zuko kneels and presses his face against, Sokka’s hard thick thighs. He sighs contently and mouths kisses against the hots skin. The water tribesman groans at the sight and gently tugs Zuko’s thick hair.

“Will you help me out?” he asks motioning to his pants. Zuko nods eagerly and nearly tears his pants off trying to get to the prize.

Sokka’s thick long dick is standing straight up. Head red and leaking with pre-cum. It’s big on a normal day, but during his rut it gets monstrously huge. Slightly bigger than the large dildo sitting comfortably in Zuko’s hole, and when his knot pops...well let’s just say someone could get hurt without the proper prep.

 Zuko’s mouth waters at the musky scent coming off from the aroused member. He carefully wraps his hands around it and pulls it close to his lips. There’s a tentative lick that makes electricity go down Sokka’s spine. The fire bender blows hot steamy air at the sensitive head and Sokka moans. He grips Zuko’s hair tightly.

“Now who’s teasing?”

Zuko merely smirks and without breaking eye contact, slowly descends onto the cock. He suckles the sensitive head gently, letting his nimble tongue swirl around it. He slides down the thick cock, mouth straining against the girth. He can only make it a little over half-way before he’s choking on it. Pulling back slightly, he leans back in relaxing his throat and swallowing around the dick. He puts a hand around it, but he can’t even bring his fingers around the girth. He pumps the cock in time with his bobbing head, slowly taking more and more with each thrust.

 The heavy cock makes his head feel fuzzy and shivers go down his spine each time it bumps against his throat. With him on his knees and Sokka staring down on him with blazing eyes, he feels both control and helplessness all at once. Sokka’s hands are gripping his hair, but they don’t move. He sees the muscles of the alpha’s thick thighs twitching and wanting to thrust into the heat, but Sokka keeps them still. The sheer control and patience his alpha exhibits is so sexy and hot. It makes Zuko wonder what it would take to make him go wild.

 With sudden resolve, he increases the pace of his mouth and hands, Sokka is gasping and moaning above him. Head thrown back in pleasure. Zuko sucks tightly against the cock, as if he’s trying to suck his lover’s soul through it. It strains against his throat with each thrust, but Zuko can take it. He opens wide and swallows it all the way down to the root. He can feel the thick cock all the way down his throat and it’s pulsating wildly.

It feels so good. Being stuffed from behind and in the front. It makes Zuko’s head go dizzy, and he feels like he’s on the brink.

“Babe.” Sokka groans hoarsely. “I’m going to cum.” He says looking down on him.

With deliberate motion, Zuko looks up at him through his long eyelashes. He slowly slowly pulls back releasing Sokka’s dick inch by inch, until only the head is still trapped in Zuko’s wonderfully tight wet mouth.

 Then the omega goes down again and swallows it whole.

 Sokka’s eyes roll, and he moans gutturally as he comes thickly into his lover’s throat. His fingers twine painfully in Zuko’s hair, but the other man can hardly care. The feeling of Sokka’s thick hot cum shooting down his throat, filling his belly, is enough to make him come untouched. Zuko moans against the cock and tries to swallow all the cum, but it’s too much. He has to pull back and let the rest dribble from his mouth. Sokka takes his cock in his hands and smears it against Zuko’s neck and face.

 White come paints the fire benders face with thick glistening streaks. It lands artfully around Sokka’s mating bite and hot desire fills the alpha with need to mark and bite and claim again. Zuko is keening as he laps and licks away at his twitching cock, sucking it clean. It’s almost painful with how sensitive his dick is after that powerful orgasm.

Sokka strips off his shirt, leaving him naked, and gently wipes away the remains of come on Zuko’s face. He pulls Zuko up, smirking at the dazed blissed look in his lover’s face. With care he lays the man down on the bed and smiles down on him.

“I’ll make you feel so good darling.” He promises. “I’m going to take out that dildo, and stuff you with my cock and fill you up all night long until ever part of you is covered in my seed. Everyone will know who you belong to when I’m done.”

“Yes. Yes.” Zuko croaks. “Please, mark me. Fill me up Sokka.”

“I will.” And Sokka draws his hands down cupping the area where his womb is. “And maybe I’ll even fill you full of my pups.”

Zuko moans at the thought. He can see it, belly rounded and heavy with pups. Breast leaking full of milk, and Sokka by his side, murmuring softly to their unborn children and placing kisses all over his belly.

 His eyes water.

“I want that.” he whispers, “I want that so much. I’ve stopped taking my herbs remember?”

Sokka grins brightly, “I know. I know. Let’s try okay? I want them so badly with you too.” He holds Zuko close and just breathes in the scent of his love. Dark hands travel down the smooth plains of pale skin, they undo the ties of his robe and lets it all in the open.

“Stomach or back?” Sokka asks.

“Back. I want to see you.” Zuko whispers.

 It makes butterflies flutter in Sokka’s heart, and he kisses him deeply. Tongues intertwining as Sokka presses his body onto Zuko. The fire bender is so warm, and his scent draws him in deeper every time. He feels himself rutting against’ Zuko’s belly. His cock already hard and straining as if begging to fuck the gorgeous man underneath him.

“Darling, I’m going to take it out okay?”

Zuko nods, eyes wide and pupils blown from arousal. Sokka lifts his legs up and throws them over his shoulder. He places one hand on Zuko’s belly, while the other presses against the base of the dildo. Zuko mewls and writhes at the exquisite pressure that zings through his nerves. With the utmost care, Sokka slowly pulls out the dildo, relishing in the expressions flitting through Zuko’s face.

For his part, Zuko’s nearly transcended his body. His mind is a blank. The only thing he’s aware off is the sweet sweet pull of the dildo scraping his prostate. Sokka teasingly pushes back against the sensitive bundle of nerves and Zuko nearly arches off the bed. He feels himself squirt as it presses against it. Slick pooling under his ass.

Sokka’s eyes are hungry as they take in the debauched omega mewling on the bed. He bends down and sucks Zuko’s pink nipple, while his hand, coated in slick pinches and fondles the other one. The free hand on the dildo pumps it agonizingly slow, in and out of his ass. The sensations batter Zuko’s already frayed nerves. He’s a crying begging mess underneath Sokka’s ministrations. But Sokka only smirks and continues playing his body like a beautifully fine instrument.

Finally, finally he pulls the dildo fully out. Zuko nearly sobs in relief and agony as he feels empty and wide; his asshole tires to clench around something. Thank Agni he’s mated to Sokka because he doesn’t know if his ass could ever be tight for anyone else after all the stretching and abuse his hole goes through.

On the other end, Sokka nearly comes at the sight of Zuko’s wide glistening hole. His mouth waters as he sees the thick line of slick still connected to the dildo. He throws the toy off to the side and slides his tongue in Zuko. The other man shouts in pleasure at the feeling of his tongue licking and stroking his walls. Sokka pulls out and puts four fingers into him easily, thrusting and teasing the convulsing walls.

 He pulls them out and then carefully slides his fist in. Zuko is nearly dying of pleasure at this point. Every nerve is alight and stars dance in his eyes. Sokka’s amazed and enraptured every time he sees his love’s fluttering asshole bear down on his wrist. He wishes he had the patience to drag orgasm after orgasm form his love, but his dick is straining, and he’s slowly losing control to the tidal wave of lust and need trying to burst through. He pulls his hands out and kisses the tears from Zuko’s cheeks.

 “I’m going to lose control soon, darling.” He says.

Zuko opens his golden eyes and cups Sokka’s face, tenderly stroking his cheek. Sokka feels a swell of love rush through him and he kisses the soft palms.

Zuko smiles, “I trust you. I always do. You’ll be the father of our pups.” He replies sweetly.

Oh does that light a fire in Sokka’s belly.

He spreads Zuko’s legs far apart, almost splitting the man, and guides his thick leaking cock into the welcoming hold.

It’s wet and hot.

And glorious.

 The slick coats his cock and lets him slide with little resistance. The walls clench around him, surrounding him in a tight wet heat. Sokka’s eyes roll back as he takes in the delicious pleasure shooting from his dick. Zuko is whimpering mess below him. His eyes unfocused and body convulsing as Sokka pushes in. The alpha has to take a minute to gather himself or he’ll end up coming prematurely like a teenager. It’s amazing that his wonderful husband can still do this to him.

 He starts to thrust slowly. Rocking into Zuko’s body and enjoying the sweet sounds his omega makes. The rut lust is starting to fog his mind, but before it can happen, he leans down and nuzzles against Zuko’s neck. His eyes zero in on the mating mark. He pulls out almost all the way, and slams into Zuko just as he bites down on the mating mark.

 It’s euphoric.

 Zuko is screaming so loud, he’s sure the guards can hear them through the thick doors. The fire lord’s arms grip and dig into Sokka’s shoulder, but he can’t care right now, he’s too busy thrusting and pounding into Zuko’s wet heat.

The man underneath him babbles incoherently. Oscillating from Too much. Too much! to Please more! More!

 Sokka happily obliges and angles himself so his thrusts are nailing and rubbing against Zuko’s prostate each time. Zuko can only grunt and moan and hiccup in short “Augh!” “OooOoh” “HnUmmn~”

His cocklet is dripping and squirting at nearly every thrust and slick starts to pool under them. Sokka pulls away from his neck and cages the man between his strong arms. He looks down, and sees Zuko blissed out of his mind. Brain and body overwhelmed with orgasmic bliss.

“Please—Uuhhn. Fill me. Make me round with pups—aaAAahh.” He begs haltingly.

His own hole seems to want it too because it seems to suck Sokka’s cock deeper and deeper with each thrust, tightening impossibly at the base where his knot is starting to form. He’s not going to last much longer. With one final thrust, he drives himself deep into Zuko and locks himself there. He comes deep into his mate. The pleasure rocks through him and he convulses with each spurt of come.

 He doesn’t know how long or how much he comes, but when he comes back into his body he sees Zuko’s normally flat stomach slightly rounded. He puts a hand over it and reverently strokes it. Thinking about the pups that might be protected and formed in his beautiful mate. A pale hand lays on top of his own and Sokka looks up.

Zuko is a picture of a debauched wonton spirit, luring people into their dangerous lairs. Sokka would have been the first victim, and he wouldn’t regret a minute of it. But then the fire bender smiles and it’s like the sun has come out. Sokka feels his breath hitch.

 Is it normal to cry from seeing such a beautiful person? He thinks trying to blink away the tears.

 They stay in that position, looking deeply into the other’s eyes.

“Promise me something?” Zuko asks, voice hoarse.

“Anything.” And he means it.

“Make sure I’m a good parent to our pups. Just…if I do something to—if I ever hurt them…please make sure to keep them safe from me.” Tears gather in those beautiful golden eyes, Sokka feels his heart drop. He gathers Zuko up in his arms and holds him close.

“Don’t even say that. You’d never hurt our pups, I know.”

“How?” Zuko asks with such fragility.

Sokka pulls him back and cups his cheeks. “Because I trust you. I trust the mother of our pups.”

Zuko let’s the tears fall and he buries his face in Sokka’s chest. “I love you.” He mumbles.

“I love you too.”

They stay that way tied and holding each other. When Sokka feels another wave of rut coming on, he fucks Zuko gently on his side and wring out an orgasm from both of them.

He sighs and strokes Zuko’s belly. “Our pups are going to run the whole world.” He says. “And they’ll be the most beautiful ones in the world.”

Zuko laughs, “How do you know that?”

Sokka smirks, “Because they have a genius sword bending father, a powerful fire bending mother who’s kind and strong and courageous and the most beautiful person in the world.”

Zuko snorts, “Stop calling it sword bending.”

“Never.”