#that's on me for posting hot takes with a lot of followers tho so

[bonesandthebees]

If I can give my two cents on this (also obviously /nm, just from like a genuinely place of discussion):

I just think it's not that deep. Most of the people I've seen saying things like "they're my ocs now" are really not coming from any place of malice. There's a lot of serious stuff going on in the fandom with the content creators and it really does not hurt anyone to be like "they're mine now". It's a way for people to be like "I am not writing about the real people in any shape or form. I'm taking the base characters and writing them in aus and such. They're disconnected from what's going on."

People have been doing that for ages in fandom, even this fandom, and it's not some kind of like. crime. It's such a dumb thing to discourse about because like just let people do what they want.

Taking a character you love and writing them differently in a fic or something where they're not their canon counterpart is really really common. Not to mention the many times ccs like Wilbur have said that the characters "belong to the fandom". Also, c!Phil's wings, c!Quackity's scar, c!Wilbur's white hair streak, c!Wilbur's train limbo, c!Skephalo being c!Sapnap's parents, and so many other things in canon have come from the fans. A lot of these characters exist because people made animatics and art which inspired the ccs to keep making the story.

I think as long as you're respecting boundaries when writing them, you're pretty free to call them your oc. Like, within my own fics, I've completely rewritten c!Technoblade for one of my modern aus because of the life that he's lived in it. He's still the same base character at his core and thusly I'm respecting boundaries, but other than that, he could probably pass for an oc. Like I just don't think it's that deep to be like "these are my characters now because I don't like the people who made them."

And I detest the idea of "you hate the media so you have to leave the fandom". It's probably one of the worst takes I've seen time and time again. Like there's a difference between being negative about it every single day and being critical of how it is written. I really love this series even if I hated one part of it. I'm not leaving just because of that.

anyways if this is poorly phrased I am rather tired rn and I wrote this quickly but yeah my thoughts on the whole. I just don't think it's worth fighting over some teenagers wanting to emphasize the fact that their writing is separate from the ccs.

(this entire response is also /nm it's just a discussion)

I think we're just seeing different sides of twitter because I understand saying they're your ocs in a non-malicious way, but I've genuinely been seeing more intense takes on the situation in a way that just irks me. Also, I'm not referring to making them your ocs as in just putting them in different aus and keeping the core of their character, because I do that too! But they're not your ocs in that sense. You're still taking their characterization from canon. They still share the same names and aspects of their appearance with a cc. And again, I'm all for people just having fun in fandom don't get me wrong, I'm just seeing it phrased in certain ways on twitter that's really irking me.

Also of course you can be critical about a piece of media you're in a fandom for. I'm critical of a lot of writing choices in dsmp. That's not what I'm referring to. When I say if you're not having fun then leave, I'm referring to the people who literally hate every aspect of the media and fandom and that's all they talk about. Like, you're just making yourself miserable at that point, y'know?

Overall, I didn't mean to start a discussion on this, but that's my fault for not clarifying when I made my post. I just don't like the discussion going on on twitter right now because it just feels very weird and toxic in a way that's bugging me and I wanted to complain about it. But I'm not trying to attack teenagers for emphasizing their writing is separate from cc's, and that's not really what I was referring to. I can understand why my post might've sounded like that though so I totally get your point here.

Again this is /nm, but I'd rather not make this a whole thing so if anyone else sends me asks on this I'm not gonna answer them unless they have a really good point I wanna speak on.

[hyunsvngs]

𝐠𝐨 𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐲 - kim seungmin x gn!afab reader (side lee minho x gn!afab reader)

wc: 6.6k

cw: very mean dom seungmin, like seriously very mean, mc being a whore, sex with no strings (again), SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: following the events of your almost-orgy, you can’t stop thinking about a certain someone and the way he behaved in bed.

a/n: y’all asked and i delivered! jk this was happening regardless. I HOPE YOU LOVE IT! here is part six of hot bitch summer, our frat skz au. smut warnings under the cut!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: creampie, dom seungmin, sub reader, a LOT OF DIRTY TALK, one (1) face slap, spanking (mc rec), fingering, grinding, multiple orgasms!, seungmin cums in mc’s mouth, seungmin is VERY MEAN, safeword negotiations (it’s never used), lovely soft aftercare and a friendship blooming tho <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Minho’s hips smacked against your ass as he fucked into you, that large vein on his thick length doing wonders against your fluttering walls. You’d lost count of how many times you’d already cum around him, something he’d probably tease you about later - but you could care less when he had you in this position, tummy pressed flat against his mattress and his cock bullying into your hole with zero restraint. 

You wanted more, though. You wanted it rougher, harder, deeper.

“Min, please, harder! Be rough with me, please, I can take it-”

You were cut off when an arm wrapped around your neck, yanking you back so your chest pressed flush against his toned stomach. You could feel his milky skin against yours, soft but dewy with sweat from the exertion of fucking you deep like this. Your own back wasn’t faring too well, the dew on your skin making you slide around against him. 

“Be rough with you? This isn’t rough enough, slut?” Minho murmured into your ear, his teeth nipping your earlobe. You shook your head rapidly, hands going to grip around Minho’s forearm while he fucked into you without abandon. You were gonna cum like this, you realised - for the umpteenth time around him.

“No, ‘s good, just- I’m gonna cum, I need rough, please?” You managed to stammer out, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his heavy balls slapping against you. Minho let out a small, mirthless chuckle, as if he was going to shake his head in disbelief.

“You want it so bad, why don’t you go to Seungmin and be his little painslut?” Oh. My. God. With those words and an expertly positioned thrust to your g-spot, you fell apart around Minho, whining and babbling incoherently. You could feel your wetness flood his cock once again, and Minho groaned. His hands moved to your hips to hold you tightly against him, shooting ropes of hot cum into your core.

Later on, when you were cleaned up and thoroughly fucked, you laid on Minho’s chest with him scrolling through social media on his phone. You watched him like Felix’s newest post before commenting something about how he looked like a baby chick, before he continued scrolling absentmindedly. His thumb paused on the screen when he came to Seungmin’s post.

You blinked hazily at the screen. Okay, it had been on your mind, admittedly - the way Seungmin had behaved during the time you all had fun. It was a week ago at that point. Maybe it had been invading your dreams at night. It had clearly been invading your sex with Minho. He also looked really, really good in the picture, which just didn’t help at all. It looked like he was at an event of some sort - perhaps one of Hyunjin’s art exhibits - and he was in a plain black blazer, shirtless underneath, with a chain around his neck. He just looked expensive. It had you thinking of all the ways he could ruin you. Would he deny you in bed, or would he make you cum over and over-

Minho’s head had turned to look directly at you, and he was laughing. Unashamed, loud, full body laughs that really gave away just how humiliating you looked in that second. “You know, if you just promised him you’d be good, he’d fuck you.”

“Shut up!” You huffed, burying your face in the fabric of Minho’s tee. Then, you thought about it. That’s all you had to do? Be good? Not be a brat? Yeah, you could do that. You looked up at him, one eye exposed. “For real? He would?”

Your voice was slightly muffled in his clothing, but Minho nodded anyway, still with a stupid smile on his face.

You took that advice to heart. The next day, after yet another sleepover with Minho that ended up in you getting fucked into the mattress, you walked down the hallway to Seungmin’s room and knocked on the door rapidly. Just ask. Just say you’ll be good for him, and-

He swung open the door quickly, glasses perched on his nose. He was shirtless, in just plaid pyjama bottoms. Planes of lightly tanned skin clung to just a slight ghost of abdominal muscles beneath, taking over your entire vision. Oh God. He wanted you to die. He actually wanted you to die.

“Um, so,” You began. You chuckled nervously, ringing your fingers together. Staring at your feet, you blushed crimson. You could do this. Just say it. “So. After last time, y’know, I’ve kind of been thinking. Maybe… would you wanna? Y’know. Fuck. I’ll be good for you, I won’t be a brat. Haha, Minho told me to say that bit, so-”

“Nope.” The door slammed in your face, and you were left blinking at the wood in front of you. Oh. Right. Okay. You had been well and truly humiliated - you were cursing Minho internally for giving you this dumb idea - but you decided not to let it take over your senses.

It was alright - you could get away with only fucking seven of them. Life goes on.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Except, life didn’t fucking go on. Less than a week after you’d been rejected by Seungmin, the air conditioning in your dorm house was well and truly shot. You were pacing around the kitchen for five minutes dumbly in just a sports bra and shorts before you realised you could actually call someone about it. You could get someone out to fix it - I mean, surely they still had people working over the summer on campus to fix these kinds of things, right?

A quick phone call informed you that no, they don’t. It would take a week minimum for someone to come out and fix your air conditioning, and even with every single window open, your body was still covered in a thin sheen of sweat that made your hair way more greasy than normal. You’d tried cold showers. They just made you heat up way quicker when you got out. You’d even tried buying one of those expensive fans, but it just blew hot air around the place and made you want to jump off of a cliff. Why exactly had you decided to stay on campus over the summer again?

The boys were going home for a week tomorrow, too, which not only put a stop to your hot bitch summer plans temporarily but also left you without friends. Why is life so hard?

You sighed, throwing yourself down to lounge on your sofa. The leather stuck to your skin uncomfortably. You wanted death. Craved it, even. You picked up your phone with a lot of hesitation before clicking on your texts.

[9:31am] You: min. i need a favour 

Definitely sounded more suggestive than you’d intended, but that’s okay. Before you could ponder on what he was going to reply, his contact image flashed on your phone notifying you that he was calling you. You swiped to accept, putting him on speaker. Your body would simply go into oversensitivity if you put the phone to your ear. 

“Hey, Y/N. What’s up?” Minho sounded concerned. You sighed deeply. 

“My air conditioning is broken. Like, dead. I was going to ask if any of you knew how to fix it?” 

Minho groaned on the other end. “Sorry, baby, no. Felix’s knowledge stops at computers, unfortunately. Can no one come to fix it?”

You wanted to die. It was so fucking hot. Minho’s voice wasn’t exactly making it better, to be honest. “Nope. It’d take a whole week apparently, because of it being the summer and the air conditioning systems being like, I don’t know. I stopped listening.”

“Of course you did,” Minho hummed. There was a beat of silence before you heard a little ‘aha’ come from his mouth. “Stay here for the week. No one will be here, so you’d have the house to yourself.”

A whole frat house to yourself? Damn. It would definitely be a lot less claustrophobic than the house you were currently in. Their house was huge, after all. You could get a lot done. Not that you had a lot to do, but… it would be nice. Their air conditioning also actually worked, so that’s a bonus. “Oh. Sure. Okay. Shall I pack my stuff and come now, or…?”

“Mm, maybe not, baby. We’ve all got to get up early tomorrow to leave, and I’ll just end up fucking you into the mattress if you come now,” Minho mused. You could hear the slight amusement in his voice, knowing the effect the words would have on you. You groaned despairingly, kicking your feet around on the couch. “I’ll leave the key in the dead plant outside. Come tomorrow morning.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The key was in the dead plant outside of the house. You wondered briefly why they even had a potted plant, a house full of eight men who could barely take care of themselves, let alone a plant. You remembered the time Jeongin briefly had a goldfish in the first year of university. It hadn’t gone well, and you’d all had to hold a very dramatic funeral three weeks later. Jeongin sang in the funeral through his tears.

Stuffing the key in the lock, you swung open the front door and slammed it shut behind you. Silence. Honestly, the frat house had never been so silent before. Jisung was always screaming. Changbin was also always screaming. Chan had headaches all the time. It was never silent. 

Still, you moved upstairs with your duffle bag and just dumped it on Minho’s bed. The air conditioning was sweet, a harsh breeze against your skin. You already felt cool, relaxed. The house was really so big too, you could have so many pets living here. 

When you made your way back downstairs, you were in search of a nice, cold lemonade. You knew there was some in the fridge since you’d put it in there yourself, and you were hellbent on getting it. As you passed the living room, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There was someone sitting on the sofa. Your heart picked up speed, eyes widening. No one was meant to be here. Everyone was away. Which meant… oh my God, someone had broken in. You were alone. It was like that horror movie you’d watched with Jisung where you’d both ended up crying. 

You blinked, squinting to look further into the room. The figure’s back was facing you, dark hair clipped back on his head and his fingers clicking away at a laptop. Okay, if he was going to kill you, he wouldn’t have a laptop. You leaned in subconsciously, barely making out the clips in his hair, until Pochacco was staring you dead in the face. His stupid cute face was printed onto the clips. 

Seungmin.

You’re safe. Wait, no, you’re totally not. Why is he here? You walked into the room, pointing at him straight in his face. Seungmin looked up at you, eyes wide and owlish. His hands had paused on the keyboard of his laptop. He literally had a sheet mask on his face. 

“What are you doing here?” You hissed. “You literally gave me a heart attack, Seungmin. I almost died.”

Seungmin scoffed, eyebrows furrowing. “I… live here, Y/N. I thought you knew that.”

You rolled your eyes, hands now on your hips. “Well yeah. I knew that. That’s the exact sofa where we-“ you blanched. The exact sofa where you got fucked senseless by Felix while Seungmin commanded you around. “Nevermind.”

A smile played on Seungmin’s full lips, and he shook his head, turning his attention back to his laptop. “I’m guessing Minho didn’t tell you I’d be here.”

No. No, he fucking didn’t. “Is it obvious?”

“You literally just said you almost had a heart attack seeing me,” He was still typing furiously, before he nodded towards the space next to him. “Come and sit. I don’t bite.”

Wish you would. You moved towards the sofa, hesitating before just deciding to sit on it with enough distance between you two. “So, uh… whatcha doing?” 

Seungmin raised an eyebrow beneath the thin sheet mask. He didn’t respond, only turning the laptop to face you on his lap. There, in black and white, was the Hall of Fame blog except… there was a new post being written. About who, you had no clue. Some random. More importantly, Seungmin was making a new post there, which meant it was him. All of your suspicions had been confirmed.

“I… I fucking knew it, Kim Seungmin,” You whispered. Seungmin smiled, turning the laptop back to him. “Is that- is that why you’ve stayed here?! To work on… this?! Seungmin, it’s really bad, y’know. You write about people’s lives on that page.”

“Hey,” Seungmin admonished. “I do not. Well, okay, I do. I always use initials, though. No one knows it’s for sure about anyone.”

That was fair, you supposed. You shrugged. Seungmin started to slowly peel the face mask away from his skin, revealing his facial features to you. It dropped to the wooden floor messily before you spoke again, with a question this time. “Can I help?” 

Seungmin shrugged. “I’m currently writing a piece about how this girl has no girl code and kissed her friend’s boyfriend at a frat party the other night. Got sent in anonymously - I presume it was sent by the friend. You know anything about that?”

You thought hard. If it was what you thought it was, then yeah, you did. Jisung had mentioned something about it when you saw him last. “I think it was that girl… Teri, is it? She did kiss her friend’s boyfriend.”

Seungmin nodded, amused. You’d gotten into his good books at least. He started to tap away on his laptop, and you sidled up closer to watch him. He didn’t seem to mind, turning the laptop back slightly towards you so you could see.

He did have a way with words, and never gave away too much, but it made you think.

“Hey, Seungmin?” Seungmin perked up, making a little hum as acknowledgement. “Why have you never written anything about me? I mean, this hot bitch summer thing has surely got to be something you’d write about.”

Seungmin’s fingers paused again. He turned to you with an almost horrified expression on his face. “It’s a gossip column. I only write about stuff that’s wrong. Morally wrong things that people have done, and even then I give them dignity by keeping it relatively anonymous. How is what you’re doing wrong?” 

You stayed quiet, staring at him blankly. 

“Listen, Y/N,” He sighed, shutting his laptop. “I think what you’re doing is fucking awesome. Power to the pussy. You wanna know why I won’t fuck you?”

You nodded, arms wrapped around your legs where you sat. “I thought it was because you didn’t want to.”

Seungmin let out a small laugh, fingers moving to brush your hair behind your ear. The air conditioning’s high setting was blowing your hair everywhere, and he took a second to smooth the locks down. “Believe me, I want to. I just don’t think you could handle it.” 

“I definitely could,” you blurted. Then, you didn’t stop blurting. “Handle it, I mean. I could. Totally. I got a taste for it the other week and honestly? It’s kind of been plaguing my mind. Like, I kind of need it, Seungmin. I need to know. I’m so fucking curious, and-“

“This is the first problem,” Seungmin’s hand fell. He slipped the clips out of his hair, throwing him onto the floor where he’d dropped the face mask. “You don’t stop fucking talking. Have you ever thought of being quiet for more than five seconds?”

You shook your head, smiling teasingly. “I can’t say I have, no.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. He placed his laptop on the floor alongside his discarded items, off to the side of the sofa. “Are you really that curious?”

“So curious.”

“Get on the floor in front of me. On your knees,” Seungmin spoke, his voice suddenly monotone and strict. You were quick to follow his demands. Minho had told you to be good for him, after all. You sunk onto the floor on your knees, feeling the wood biting into your kneecaps. Looking up at Seungmin expectantly, he scoffed. “Don’t fucking look at me.”

Oh. Your eyes immediately dropped to the floor, feeling a telltale wetness pool in your core. 

“Listen. Don’t talk,” Seungmin began. His hands were placed calmly on his legs, over another pair of those fucking plaid pyjama bottoms. At least he was wearing a shirt this time. Not for long, hopefully. “I’m going to give you a taster. I’m not going to take it easy on you. If you don’t like it, we walk away, move on and never comment on it again. If you like it, we will continue. How does that sound?”

You nodded.

“So dumb. You can talk now, obviously. I asked you a question.” 

“Yeah, Seungmin. It sounds good,” You mumbled, still staring at the floor. Seungmin leaned forward, pulling your head back sharply by your hair. You fluttered your eyes shut, unwilling to look at him until he’d given you permission. You would be good. Minho had told you to be. 

“Ready?” Seungmin asked. You hummed, and that seemed to be enough for him, because in one flurry of movement he’d raised one large hand and it was colliding against your cheek sharply. You could feel the skin already smarting, and you’d let out a loud, obnoxious moan at the pain. You wanted more - no, you needed more. 

“Oh. My God,” you huffed out, chest heaving. You heard Seungmin chuckle condescendingly above you. 

“You fucking liked that, didn’t you?” 

He dropped your hair, leaning back. You nodded again at his words, rather eagerly, biting your lip. “Seungmin, oh my God. Please fuck me. Please?”

“Hmm. Sure, why not? I’ll play with you for a bit,” He mused. You could hear movement again, your eyes still shut. “Open your eyes. You can come to my bedroom with me.” 

Immediately, your eyes opened, and you were scrambling to your feet. Seungmin had already started to walk out of the room and towards the large staircase leading to the bedrooms, and you had to pick up your pace to follow him. You knew where his room was. It was the same door you’d been rejected at - but now, you knew the reason for your rejection, and he knew you could handle it. You couldn’t fucking wait, almost vibrating with excitement. 

Seungmin sat at the edge of his bed, legs spread. To avert your eyes from trying to stare at his dick, your eyes flitted around the room. It was neat. Pristine. Not one thing was out of place, including the white sheets. Even the blankets were tucked in the corner like a bed in a hotel. It made sense - you could remember Jisung and Seungmin being roommates before they joined the frat, and Seungmin always had something to say to Jisung regarding the state of the room. 

Seungmin was a man who liked control. You could see that, most definitely, and it showed outside of sex too. It made you excited.

“I’m going to ask you again. Are you sure?” Seungmin spoke up. You finally looked at him, taking in his appearance. His face was still slightly dewy from the face mask and his plump lips were parted as he looked at you, eyes soft. The plaid pyjama bottoms encased his long legs, making him look way taller than he actually was, but the oversized t-shirt made him look like the soft boy you actually knew. Well, the soft boy you were getting to know. What better way to get to know him than to fall into bed with him? 

“I’m sure, Seungmin,” You breathed out. You felt like you were getting a bit too excited, maybe. “I’ll… I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

“I’m afraid that’s not what I’m looking for, Y/N. I want it to be too much. Come and sit on my lap,” You obeyed, scurrying over to straddle those long legs. His hands immediately went to your hips, drawing soothing circles over your hip bones. “If it’s too much, I want you to say ‘red’. Can you do that for me?”

“I can do that,” You were speaking in a whisper again. Seungmin nodded, seemingly pleased.

Then, he was lurching forward, hand on the back of your head and bringing you in for a searing kiss. Those plump lips felt as good as they looked, slamming against you in a haze of vanilla chapstick and dominance. You immediately keened into the kiss, hands going up into his hair to try and get more of his lips against yours. Seungmin grabbed your hands instinctively, returning them to your lap. 

“I’m not going to spank you for that, but one more disobedience, and I will,” He mumbled against your lips. You nodded, waiting patiently for him to kiss you again. He delivered - tongue immediately pressing into your mouth in a heated kiss instead. You let your lips work in harmony with his, a simple kiss turning into a heavy makeout session. It didn’t last long enough, though - he was quickly pulling away with a few more pecks to your lips. “Bend over my lap.”

Huh? “But- you said you weren’t going to-?”

“I’m not going to spank that pretty ass. Dumb sluts don’t ask questions,” Seungmin scoffed. “Be a good little bitch and bend over my lap. I’m not asking again.”

Oh God. You immediately scrambled to lay your tummy over his legs, and he was quick to yank your joggers down. You’d realised it had been getting close to laundry day, and so all you had left really were your skimpy thongs that were to be hand washed delicately. 

“So you can follow orders, huh? Shocking,” Seungmin spat, one hand rubbing over your asscheek. With a quick move, he was pulling your ass apart. His other hand pressed your head down into the bed firmly. “Tell me again. How long have you wanted this? How long have you wanted to be treated like a fucktoy by me?”

You squirmed, sighing. “Since- since that night. With the others. Haven’t stopped thinking about it, Seungmin.”

Seungmin hummed, slender fingers pulling your thong down and revealing your pussy to him. You knew your folds were wet, slick and ready for him to fill you with something - his tongue, his fingers, his dick. You didn’t care at that point. 

“Makes sense. This pussy’s fucking wet, didn’t need any convincing,” His lithe digits slid through your folds, teasing your hole over and over but not quite pushing in. You just had to keep repeating the same thing in your head - be good, be good, be fucking good. 

You couldn’t hold back the shifting of your hips, however, trying to push back to gain more friction.

“Stop squirming,” Seungmin sighed. You nodded into the sheets, willing your hips to stop moving. On a particularly well timed brush against your hole though, your hips shifted again, a sigh falling from your own lips. Seungmin’s hand raised and came down against the flesh of your ass with a harsh smack, the skin rippling with the force. You gasped, head raising from the sheets. “I said to stop fucking squirming. Are you stupid or did you just choose not to listen?” 

You blinked, willing the haze to leave your eyes as you tried to focus on the scene. “I’m s-sorry. Sorry Seungmin.” 

With another quick move, Seungmin was flinging the fabric wrapped around your ankles off the rest of your legs and pulling you back upright into his lap. You were confused, wondering why he hadn’t fingered you, before he was looking into your eyes with a firm grip on your chin. It was a soft look on his face, a wordless question - are you doing okay? You smiled softly in response, and he looked to be holding back his own smile. 

Dropping his grip on you, he leaned back, leisurely resting on his hands. “You want to get off? Go on. You can grind on my lap. You lost the pleasure of having my fingers in you when you disobeyed me.”

“On- on your lap?” You asked, eyes looking down at the bulge encased in plaid fabric. He wasn’t quite hard, maybe half hard at a push. Seungmin didn’t answer your question, simply raising an eyebrow.

You hesitantly ground your clit down against Seungmin’s bulge. It was surprisingly pleasurable, perhaps too pleasurable - you were already holding back noises at the feeling of it against your swollen bud. You could feel the wetness starting to accumulate on Seungmin’s trousers, and you whined, leaning back with your hands splayed on his knees to get a better angle. 

“Feeling good?” Seungmin asked. The t-shirt you were wearing was almost covering you completely, but Seungmin was quick to yank that off, too, giving him a better look. “Shit, look at that pussy. I’m going to toy with you until you fucking break.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You blurted, hips quickening on his lap. “Yeah, break me- make me, make me good, yeah?” 

“Make you a good little bitch, huh?” Seungmin replied. He raised an eyebrow, looking down at the wet patch forming on top of him. “You are a filthy little thing, aren’t you? Look at you getting off on being treated like this.”

Your eyes went down to his lap, widening at the way the fabric was wet with your juices. It only made you grind harder, hands moving up to grip his shoulders tightly. He allowed this, clearly, his own body moving upright for his hands to grab your hips. 

“Oh, that look in your eyes. So out of it, fucked dumb and you haven’t even gotten my cock inside you,” Seungmin was laughing. He was laughing at you, degrading you, humiliating you - and it only made your pussy flush wetter. One hand came up to stroke hair out of your face, and it landed on your cheek, cupping it almost softly compared to the way he was speaking. “Are you gonna cum?”

You moaned loudly. You were going to cum, the feeling of impending bliss crawling up your spine and pushing you closer to the edge. “Yeah, yeah, I-“

“Aw, you’re gonna cum?” He cooed, a false sound of sympathy. His hand immediately went to your hair, yanking your head back once again and making you squeal. “Too bad. I decide when you cum and how you cum. You’re not cumming yet. Okay?”

It was a rhetorical question. It had to be, because you couldn’t form words at this point. Instead, your hips slowed down, staring into Seungmin’s round eyes. He screwed up his face in disappointment, using his free hand to move your hips again. 

“Don’t you fucking slow down. You keep going.”

Oh God, you were going to die. You whined obediently anyway, picking up your pace again. The feeling of being close returned almost immediately, accelerated by his hand in your hair and his filthy words. 

“Beg. Beg for me to allow you to fucking cum.” 

“Please, please Seungmin- I can’t hold it, I can’t-“

“You can, and you fucking will,” Seungmin retorted instantly. That cocky smirk was on his lips again. “Not good enough. Beg.”

“Please! Please, please, I’ll be so good for you, I promise. I’ll be- I’ll be your good little slut, yeah? Yeah? Can I cum? Please?” You were babbling again, eyes fluttering shut and your thighs clenching around his hips. It was taking every nerve in your body to try not to cum before he told you that you were allowed. You had to be good. 

“Mm. Okay. Cum for me, c’mon,” You instantly arched your back, fingers digging in even tighter on those nice, broad shoulders. You moaned loudly as you came, eyes watering with tears at the intensity of it. He’d be lucky if he didn’t have to throw those pyjama trousers out, to be honest. You could feel your pussy flooding the cotton.

Once you came down from your high, Seungmin’s hand relaxed in your hair. You were sufficiently sated, but you had to see it through. Shifting around on his lap, you noticed something out of the ordinary.

You just had one of the strongest orgasms of your life and he wasn’t even hard.

“Um, Seungmin. You’re… not hard?”

Seungmin laughed again, a condescending chime to your ears. “Why the fuck would I get hard over a slut like you in my lap?” 

Oh. It was very hard to ignore the incessant throbbing in your pussy returning from that one comment. Your eyes widened, giving you away, and Seungmin licked his lips. 

Not hard, though? Maybe you had to be a little bratty to get your way. “What if I showed you my pussy, Seungmin? You wanna see? ‘S wet for you.”

“For me?” Seungmin raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure just being present in this house gets that slutty cunt wet. Lay on your back.”

Damn. He always had to one up you, always putting you in your place. You loved every second of it. You moved off of his lap, laying on your back and staring at him expectantly. He stood up, shucking his t-shirt off and folding it up as if he had all the time in the world - because of course he did. His body was exposed to you again, and you took your time ogling him. Slender figure, but lightly toned. Very nice. He pulled off his pyjama trousers, again folding those too, and when he turned to face the bed, you saw it.

Big. Long. It was similar to Hyunjin’s. Nice and long, but not an abundance of girth, not like Changbin’s. It wasn’t fully hard yet, but what it was looking like was very promising.

“Stop eyeing up my cock,” Your eyes immediately darted up, finding a teasing, amused expression on Seungmin’s face. He was quick to make his way onto the bed, and you gazed up at him needily. Before you could even speak, his hands had flipped you over so you were on your stomach. “All fours.”

Obediently, you shifted to rest on your hands and knees. It was hard, arching like that and feeling your wet pussy leak down your thigh in need. 

“Beg for it. Beg for me to fuck you,” Seungmin’s fingers swiped through your folds again, and a wet noise filling the room displayed that he was jerking his cock to full mast using your pussy as lubrication. You moaned, turning your head to watch. His hand quickly shoved your head back in the pillows. “I said fucking beg.”

“Oh God, please, Seungmin,” You whined, muffled by the pillows. “Please. I need it, I need to fuck you. I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

“Hmm, you have been good. But have you earned it? Do you think you’ve earned it?” More rustling of fabric was heard and then Seungmin’s cockhead was pressing at your core. You gasped, trying to push your hips back onto him. His hand came down on your ass in a loud smacking noise. You could feel the skin turning red with the pressure. 

You almost fell over with the impact, clutching onto the sheets desperately. “Please! Please. I promise I’ll be good, I promise-“

“Listen to you, begging like the pathetic little bitch you are. That pussy’s so wet for me,” Seungmin swiped the tip of his length through your folds. The sensation made you whine, but you fought to not push back. With a small hum of approval, he was pushing in all at once - bottoming out instantly. He gave you no time to adjust, thrusting into you at a fast, precise pace. Of course he’d know how to fuck. It just made perfect sense. 

“Oh-! Oh, ‘s deep,” You writhed, feeling his cock hit your g-spot. More. More. Fucking more. “It’s so deep, Seungmin, I-“

“God, shut the fuck up. Listen to your pussy, the sounds it’s making for me. Listen to how much your pussy wants my cock,” Seungmin yanked your head up again, a large hand covering your mouth. His other hand rested on your ass, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust. True to his word, when he covered your mouth, you could hear the wet slapping sounds of your tight hole hitting his balls. “Minho was right. That pussy does feel nice and tight on my cock.”

You squealed at the mention of your lover, toes curling into the sheets. It was muffled by Seungmin’s hand, and he shoved two fingers into your mouth upon hearing the noise. Sucking on them dutifully, you let out another quieted noise when his other hand smacked onto your ass roughly. His thrusts didn’t slow down, cock bullying into your hole and pushing you steadily into your climax.

“Should I send a video to Minho? Should I show him how much of a good slut you can be when you’ve been broken in?” He halted his pace, grinding softly against you. You could feel the brush of hair against your asscheeks and you whined, pushing your hips back. 

You shook your head rapidly, garbled words coming out. “N-No! No, Seungmin, just- harder, please, hnngg, need it harder-“

“Harder? You’re not in the position to make commands. So fucking dumb,” Seungmin yanked his fingers out of your mouth and pushed down on your back roughly. When you flailed, trying to catch yourself, he grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them behind your back. The slow pace continued, just grinding against you rather than fucking you senseless like you wanted. “Maybe I still have to break you in. Do you need to be shown how to fucking behave?” 

“I’m good, ‘m good, promise- I promise, Seungie, ‘m good,” You mumbled out, eyes hazy from where they’d been pressed against the pillow. Seungmin laughed at your use of his nickname before he completely pulled his cock out of your pussy. You whined, hating the loss of fullness, but then his hand was dropping from your ass and filling you up with two long digits.

“I’m going to make you cum like this,” He murmured, eyes focused on where your hole was leaking out around his fingers. His fingertips expertly crooked down to meet your g-spot, frantic rubbing bringing your high right to the precipice, as if he’d never stopped fucking you. Your legs were shaking, trying so hard not to squirm. Seungmin dropped your wrists, smiling when he saw you kept them where he’d put them. His hand smacked another large handprint into the flesh of your ass. “Feeling good, slut?”

“Aah… ‘s good..” 

“Fucking hell, maybe I have broken you,” A scoff was heard ringing around the room, making you feel so used, humiliated and plain fucking horny. Seungmin used two fingers on his free hand to rub precise circles around your clit, using the wetness of your pussy to make the slide slick on your swollen bud. You were done for. Your pussy clenched tightly around his fingers when you came, whines and broken noises flooding out of your mouth.

With a swift move, Seungmin was shoving long slick covered fingers around your throat and his cock back into your pussy. It made you gasp, eyes fluttering shut and your hips softly rocking as he picked up his fast pace again.

“‘S too much, Seungie,” you whined, shaking your head. Seungmin yanked your head back to face him where his chest was pressed against your back, raising an eyebrow at your expression. “I can’t-“

“You can’t? You know your safeword. If it’s too much, you say it,” Seungmin reminded you. Of course you knew your safeword. Red. You hadn’t forgotten it. You just would probably die if he stopped. When you didn’t reply, simply letting out another audible moan, Seungmin smirked and let your head drop again. “Fucking bitch. You want it to be too much, don’t you?”

You squealed when he grabbed your hips with both hands, pulling you back against every thrust. Your hands stayed obediently behind your back, gasps and loud moans flooding past your open mouth. Your jaw was perpetually dropped as he fucked your slick back into you, your toes curling in ecstasy. 

All too quick, Seungmin’s pace faltered, and his head dropped to in between your shoulders. His hair tickled your skin as he sighed deeply, uneven thrusts continuing inside of you. “I’m gonna cum. Pussy’s too fucking wet. Fuck, you’re such a good little slut for me, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah! Good- ah- slut for you, Seungmin. Cum inside me, please? N-Need it!”

“Need it inside you? Or do you want to taste it, whore? Wanna taste my cum?”

“Fuck, yeah, taste-“

Seungmin was pulling out with a swift movement, yanking your hair so you were sitting upright facing him. You stuck your tongue out obediently before you allowed your eyes to open, gazing up at him. 

God, he was a pretty fucking picture. Lightly tanned skin covered in a dew of sweat just like your own, large hand pumping a just as large cock right in front of your face. As soon as you locked eyes with him, Seungmin groaned, his head falling back as cum started to paint your tongue white. You moaned, curling your tongue around the cockhead to catch all of the substance.

“You are fucking gorgeous,” Seungmin huffed, deep groans still racking his chest as he came all over your tongue. You wanted to smile, but you suckled on his cockhead approvingly instead. 

Immediately, once Seungmin had finished painting your tongue with his cum, he was pulling out of your mouth and pushing you softly to lay down. You let out a confused noise, but he was already up and grabbing some baby wipes and a bottle of water from his drawer. You laid there, mind still hazy while Seungmin wiped you down with baby wipes. 

“Does anything hurt?” He questioned, rubbing soft fingertips over your thighs. It should’ve felt awkward, just lying there naked, but your mind was too fuzzy to care. 

“No, ‘m okay, just a little sensitive,” You mumbled, enjoying the feeling of soft sheets against your burning skin. Seungmin nodded, tossing the baby wipes on the floor carelessly before sidling up next to you. He slung one arm around your tummy, pulling you over so that you were laying on his chest. 

“Are you okay?” You nodded. Seungmin hummed, running his fingers through your hair. “You did really good for me, y’know that? Took it so well.”

You made a small noise of affirmation before Seungmin was grabbing the forgotten bottle of water, pressing the rim to your lips. Obediently, you glugged back half of the bottle in one go before falling back onto his chest. 

After blinking the haze out of your eyes a few times, you finally felt human again. “Seungmin, you fuck like an animal.”

Seungmin burst out laughing, drinking some of the water himself between giggles. “I did warn you!”

You laughed yourself, slapping his arm softly. Seungmin was still giggling, soft vibrations of his chest making your head shake on top of him. 

“Was it worth it?”

You blinked. “Stupid question. So fucking worth it. 10/10, would do it again.”

“You still have one to go, y’know. You can’t be coming back to me for more, Chan will get jealous and wonder when it’s his turn.”

One? You perked up your head, looking into Seungmin’s puppy eyes. “I’ve got two to go, not one. Chan and Jeongin.”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow. “You can’t fuck Jeongin.”

You scoffed. “Why not?”

“He’s a virgin, Y/N.”

Oh, now that was interesting.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

taglist: @moasworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @queenofthegardengnomes @boomfrogg @hoeinthehouse @msaddictions @sunnyhonie @hizliyuruyen @jyu037 @jouoy @drhsthl @seungincore @jellylver @veedoesntknaur @meloncremesoda @k-poplv @livieloo914 @fekixfmp @fawnpeaks @minnielvr @imastraykidsfan @hanjisung2023 @hoelynecujoh @kyrviu @sxgeofprohets @everydreams-penumbra @chaneomma @kkissreol @phtogravi @secretjj @princelingperfect @personawthai @dirah-h @straykids5star @luvhyux @chuuswifereal @stg110 @cookiesandmilfx @number1seungminstan @skzswife @starsandrqindrops @poody1608 @cutiespaghetti @hwa-0403 @i8rsie @kpopsstuffs @everyonehatesshani @han8ul @velentine143 @vixensss @cuddlehye @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @angeldhd @comicnerd557 @leeknowfz @imwithurmother @hrtsformin @maknae00 @teaholic @ficrecnctskz @tasteskz-sworld @ilychee08 @thehomotron8000 @romynochill @freckleboilix @yunhorights @marrivmel @realrintaro @leoisanot8-wh0re @jazzyluuv @telesvng @jihanlovic

[eddiediazismyhusband]

I can’t remember who posted this but i’m thinking about that hc i saw that was like “eddie went for an interview at the 118 while he was still on the fence about going to station 6, but then bobby pointed out the ‘hot shot kid’ who would be his partner and eddie saw buck for the first time laughing/messing around w hen and chim and smth went ‘huh’ and that was the push that he needed to join the 118” and that that would be a prime moment for an eddie begins again episode where we see baby eddie going through severe repression bc maybe he had an uncle or something who was gay and ramon and helena kept him away from that and told him it was wrong and he needed to be the man of the house etc, and then high school eddie has a best friend who maybe confessed feelings for him and that’s when he got scared and ran to shannon to try and convince himself “im straight” and then the army stuff happened and he moved to LA w chris and was able to breathe for the first time (and yeah he def still had a lot to work through at that time, but it was the first time his parents weren’t actively looking over his shoulder) and for that moment he unconsciously allowed his guard to slip and he was charmed by buck and joined the 118 and then omg this kid is so cocky and insecure and it’s so cute that he’s getting flustered and omg he is so caring about my kid but wait wtf no he’s a guy i don’t actually think he’s cute i just like spending time w the guy, he’s a friend, my best friend like (insert best friend from high school) but it’s different because buck is straight and he won’t think of me like that and then in s8 the episode follows the aftermath of the BT breakup (buck possibly already aware of his feelings) and eddie has a similar arc to his high school flashbacks that are showing simultaneously and he has a mild panic and he talks to Pepa about the uncle who was gay, and then he talks to Abuela who tells him she always thought he and buck had something special, and then he talks to Ramon who apologizes for the hurt and pain and tells eddie it’s okay to want what he wants and thst he never should have made him feel bad and then he goes to buck to hang out and buck confesses his feelings and instead of running like he did w his friend in high school he kisses buck and this time it’s in HIS kitchen and not the loft and eddie gets that same moment of clarity and just UGHHHH

seriously tho if anyone knows who made that post im talking about PLS tag them bc i don’t wanna take credit for that idea but i genuinely cannot remember who posted it 😭😭

[magics-neptunes-things]

She dares me

Hello everybody!

I had a lot of request for Lucy Bronze, so here am I trying one with her :)

I have some other writing in my draft tho, I try to decide which one I will post first but I have to admit that I write for the one who inspires me the most according to my mood of the day x)

I hope you'll like it anyway ♥

Resume : You take care of you stubborn and childlish girlfriend.

TW : None

____________________________________________________________

"Lucia Roberta Bronze, this is the worst idea you’ve ever had"

"But baby, she dared me"

You roll your eyes when you hear Lucy whine, before she gets an impressive coughing fit. Sighing, you hand her a tissue so she can blow her nose and you patiently wait for her to be able to speak again.

Sitting on her bed, in her room of her apartment, it’s been an hour now that you’re trying to take care of her. When she missed practice today because she was sick, you knew it wasn’t just a little cold. Lucy isn't the type to miss training for nothing or even to be fragile in terms of her immune system. She warned you in the morning that she was not feeling well, so after finishing your training, you hurried to find her.

After having assured you for a few minutes that it was nothing, she finally confessed to you that following a challenge from Mapi, she found herself all dressed in the Mediterranean Sea. In the middle of winter. Obviously she didn't have any spare clothes and had to make the way back wet from feet to head.

"In the meantime, Mapi only got wet to the calf, so I won."

You sigh again, looking at her with a distressed air. You are obviously in love with this woman, more than anything else in the world. But sometimes you have trouble understanding how she can be so spontaneous and childish.

"She also has a cold and I now understand better why Ingrid was giving her black looks every time she sneezed."

Lucy sneers at the news, probably playing the scene in her head. Despite yourself, you can’t help but smile too.

"But between Ingrid and me, she’s definitely the winner. Her girlfriend is not about to die of pneumonia."

"Not going to die of pneumonia" Lucy mumbles sleepily as she pulls up her sheet under her chin.

"How is it that in our both couples it's the youngest who are the most mature?" you ask rhetorically by putting your hand on her forehead, trying to find out if her temperature is starting to fall.

"Dunno. Maybe because you both aren't fun" Lucy mumbles before yawning.

"Maybe I should ask Ingrid to get in a relationship with me, at least we would be both not fun but happy and healthy?"

You pull your tongue out at her and Lucy slaps your hand, frowning at you.

"Hey! Don’t laugh with that"

"I’ll go out and get you some medicine. Try to get some rest."

Sulking, Lucy gets on her side to turn her back on you and you watch her do it with an amused smile. You kiss her shoulder covered with the sheet and slowly come out of the bedroom. You take the opportunity to tidy up some of the things that the English left behind during the day before going out towards the pharmacy.

The air is fresh and the night begins to fall, making you shiver. You make the round trip with a quick step, the face completely masked by your scarf and the hood of your jacket. It's with relief that you find the warmth of Lucy’s apartment and you decide to make both of yourself tea. You to warm up, Lucy to ease her throat.

A quick passage through Lucy’s room learn you that she sleeps deeply and you decide not to wake her. After preparing a soup in addition to tea, you sit on the couch with your hot cup of tea and your phone. After like one hour, your hear her cough again and made your way to her room.

"You ok?" you ask when you see that she’s awake.

Lucy nods and turn for her nightstand to take her bottle of water. You let her do it, making a quick trip to the kitchen to put on the tray that you prepared and the medicines. With your foot, you push the door of the room to open and you put the tray on the other night table. Then you lie down next to her, on the sheet.

"How are you feeling?"

"Terrible" she answers by dropping on her back on her cushion.

With an empathetic smile, you clear her face of the few strands of hair that block her eyes.

"I’m sorry I said you weren’t fun"

You laugh slightly before you lean over her to put a kiss on her forehead.

"I know, baby." You smile at her again before you put the tray between you two. "Your meds. And I think it would be nice if you ate a little"

You nod at the soup bowl and Lucy looks at it thoughtfully for a few moments before resigning herself to sit in the bed. Once she’s settled, you hand her the bowl and let her eat, telling her a few things that happened during training.

Then, when she’s done, you help her take her meds and drop her half-empty cup of tea on her nightstand.

"Where are you going?" she whines as you come out of the room.

"Do the dishes?"

"Fuck the dishes. I need hugs to get better, it was written on the leaflet of the medicines"

"Of course, I didn’t have to read the little sentence in the end"

You laugh and rest the tray to climb on the bed next to her.

"Exactly"

Her big smile when she answers you goes straight to your heart and you spread your arms so that she can cuddle up against you. After offering to watch something on television, you find yourself stroking her hair while watching Malcolm. When you found out it was Lucy’s favorite show, you were surprised at first, but you got used to it.

Not used to seeing Lucy so clingy, you take full advantage of having her for you in this state. Usually, you're the needy one between you two. But that's ok because Lucy never refuses you a kiss or a hug. And the best part is, you don’t have to feel guilty because the meds seem to be working and she feels better.

And her health will continue to get better, since after three days she is fully on her feet and back to training. The only thing that’s changed is that with Ingrid you promised yourself that you’d never let the two women go out by themselves again.

[shapelytimber]

Look, social media aus are very dumb but fun to do fklxkdk Illya would make short videos (mostly) about fashion, and Napoleon would be very unsubtle about being a Spy

I am formally apologizing to the uncle fandom for tiktoker Illya Kuryakin, I have no regrets (also @quijicroix is part responsible, being my evil advisor)

Here are the posts in details, and the profile pics :)

[COMMISSIONS]

No process this time, just me yapping for way to long about every choice and refs that went into this dumb au below vvv

Illya is younger than Napoleon (I usualy headcanon him at around 25 and Napoleon 35ish), so I think their use of social media would be quite different : hence Illya on Tiktok and Napoleon on Instagram. Also it's not the 60s so Illya can be like 10% less reppressed :)) but as a debuff Napoleon now has the technology to call him a nerd

Illya's page started as a cover for some affair, but he ended up kinda enjoying doing it in his free time. It's like a hobby for him, a way to experiment with fashion ! It's what made him want to pursue fashion design as a career after his curent spy job. And also I think he gets more and more nervous the more followers he gets, because as a spy having a chance to get recognise in the street is really bad dkdldlos Napoleon teases him endlessly that he became a tiktoker (as he should)-

Did I, at one point in the project, had to scrap the thirst trap idea to keep the fashion nerd vibes ? Yes I did, but just know he uses the "twink" tag :)

• The first post is a ref to the discotheque affair, not the best episode and a great miss for not including a disco Illya outfit, so I made him one to match the other :D

• The second is to the Hot number, but he gets to wear the thrush pattern !

• The third one is what made me do all of this ! Because, if you're not french, you might not know about one of my favorite yearly twitter threads : Met Gala outfits as INSEE graphs by Clara Dealberto ! Don't care about the met gala, but this is very funny :) and such a Illya Kuryakin thing to do kdkdkd

• fourth one isn't fashion related, it's a ref to popart and the "he has Dostoïevski eyes" line that made us laught a lot

• A little Fiddlesticks for the dog post, because it's a banger episode. Plus a nod to he dog expert from it, with whom Illya had palpable sexual tension fkfkfkl I like to think they kept contact ;) (shoutout to this fic (Intensity by AconitumNapellus) who absolutely get the vision, 10/10 guy to "cheat" on your boyfriend with)

• and the final one is a make over because of course it is

As for Napoleon, being older and less invested in this, an instagram made sense. But crutialy, I get such strong modern oss117 vibes from Napoleon (the way he shoots his gun, the goofy faces, the awkward stance everytime he enters a place, the inexplicable in universe rizz...) dkfkldls modern oss117 was a parody of both 60s james bond and older oss117 movies, but I'm now convinced they also whatched some uncle while doing these, it's just so obvious- anyway all this to say, in the second movie oss117 has to pose as a photographer and gets way too invested in his cover (it's his thing don't question it), and at the end of the movie we get to see all the photography he took during his mission..... Let me tell you how hard it was to resist him having an instagram full of blurry women on the street (canon 60s napoleon would have done it I'm sorry)- but what I kept was the pretty "badly" shot pics of random things, tho you sometimes get the odd decent pic taken by Illya. And he gets to be in a duck floatie as a treat and nod to oss <3

• Pinned post is because it became frustrating for him having to respond to people asking him if it was his real name or if he was a far right french man simping for Bonaparte

• first post is not a ref, but if my very sexy flat car was burning in the desert I would take a pic (ft Illya despairing) kdkdkd

• Duck floatie is a oss117 ref

• selfie with a beautiful woman (ft his finger), no ref I just love drawing women

• also Fiddlesticks for the cute Napoleon fox !! And to kinda link the two profiles :)

• and finaly Spy with my face ! He tried taking a picture of his date (I'll let you decide who it was), but oops front facing camera kdkdkdk

Can you tell I had a lot of fun doing this ? I love this show way to much omfg

PS : if you've never seen the recent oss117 movies, you should they funny ! But oh god some jokes are terrible- the first one is the best, minus one gay joke frankly not great. They nail the gay joke in the second one but oh god... They do not always win the 'is our character a piece of shit or is the movie problematic' gamble so be aware of that. And the 3rd one is shit don't bother

PPS : I don't use Tiktok, I tried my best to emulate the feeling of it but be aware I have no idea what I'm doing dkkdld

[ugh-yoongi]

the retreat | jhs

(or, the one where namjoon just wants hoseok to take care of himself, but then there's a fake relationship, only one bed, a guy who doesn't talk, and maybe a weird cult.)

✤ pairing: hoseok x f. reader ✤ genre: childhood bf2l, fake dating-ish au; crack, fluff, smut ✤ rating: explicit. minors do not interact. ✤ warnings: there is a lot of talk about food and eating in here, so i would not suggest reading this if you are sensitive to those kinds of triggers. tropes galore! side taegi. 5th muster jimin from that one vcr. hobi is pansexual and i do not wanna hear from the weirdos during pride month, or ever. he is a millionaire tho so he's not off the hook. a slight astrological dragging. a strained mother-daughter relationship. the smut is not super explicit or detailed but warnings are as follows: kissing, oral sex (f. receiving), biting, hair pulling, hobi may or may not rip a pair of underwear, fingering, protected vaginal sex. a brief but canonical breaking-the-fourth-wall appearance by park bogum. beta'd by me, so any mistakes are my own. ✤ wordcount: 19.6k ✤ thank you: @the-boy-meets-evil, as always, for the encouragement and reading every draft of this. @hot-soop for both the astrological advice and advice in general. @effortandmore for reading this over recently and telling me it was worth finishing. i would get absolutely nothing done without the three of you. ✤ author's note: i was supposed to have this posted for jess's birthday two years ago. we're not gonna talk about that, because this just means i'm a month early for this year. happy early birthday, jess! anyway~ this is basically a 20k love letter to jung hoseok bc i miss him. i hope you enjoy it.

Jung Hoseok is overworked.

(He’s also filthy rich, the proud owner of not one but two Lamborghinis [that he doesn’t even drive], and smiling on the cover of Forbes. He has a top floor penthouse in the most expensive high-rise in the city and a vacation home along the Italian coast. When he needs to go on a business trip, his driver takes him straight to the tarmac where he boards a private plane. His tailor just sends him clothes now, the cost of dressing Jung Hoseok far outweighed by the dozens of other filthy rich men who flock to his store to buy whatever he’s wearing.)

Jung Hoseok is also going to have a stroke and die before the age of 30, because what’s a little money at the expense of his mental well-being and cardiac health?

“All things considered, it wouldn’t be the worst way to go out,” he argues, clammy palms flat on his expensive desk. Rosewood, because not only is he a millionaire, he’s a millionaire with taste. None of that monochromatic minimalist bullshit for him, thank you.

In front of him, Kim Namjoon also looks to be on the verge of a stroke. Not of the same variety. Namjoon is paid well because he works for Hoseok and Hoseok insists on it. None of that heartless, dickhead-to-everyone, impossible-to-work-for CEO reputation for him, either, thank you.

Namjoon is also a militant vegan and has twenty-six plants and one bonsai on his desk named Bonnie. He insists on spending his lunch breaks in Hoseok’s office, lecturing him on the benefits of plant-based diets and exercise and meditation. Despite his perpetual smile and sunny demeanor, no one else speaks to Hoseok this way, but Namjoon does. Absolutely doesn’t give a shit.

“It absolutely would be the worst way to go out. Have you even been listening to me?”

Hoseok sighs and closes the symptoms of a stroke tab in his browser. “I always listen to you, Namjoon, I just don’t always listen.” A smart choice, too, judging by the swamp-colored sludge Namjoon has in a glass container, because he doesn’t use plastics.

Following his boss’s line of sight, Namjoon frowns. “It’s a pitaya bowl. Don’t look at it like that.”

“It looks radioactive,” Hoseok says, face contorted in a wince. “Like it’s going to become sentient and sprout six arms.”

Namjoon scoffs. “If it does, I hope it uses all six of them to slap the shit out of you.”

“I could pay it to spare me,” Hoseok insists, chin jutting out indignantly.

One of the reasons Hoseok had all but demanded HR hire Namjoon—despite there being a plethora of other candidates who were just as qualified and nowhere near as hell-bent on him taking care of himself—was his grit and determination. He’d showed up two hours early to his interview and steamed his suit jacket in the employee bathroom. It was completely insane and even more neurotic, but Hoseok had been taken with him immediately.

Now, it seems that determination and hard-headed nature is coming back to bite Hoseok in the ass.

“Oh, yeah? You’re gonna pay your blood to not get cut off from your brain and your heart, too? Well, good for you, Hobi. I heard blood has even started taking American Express. You’re in luck—”

Unable to take anymore, Hoseok groans and waves his arms to cut him off. “Okay, I get it! God, why did I hire you? Your desk alone has to be violating at least fourteen different health codes. Your office is humid. Do you know how impossible that is to achieve outside of a greenhouse?”

“You hired me because I’m good at my job and I’m not afraid of you, so I have no issue slapping your fourth double bacon cheeseburger of the day out of your greasy, on-the-brink-of-dying hands. Christ, you act like it’d actually kill you to eat a vegetable for once.”

Hoseok squawks. “Hey! That definitely didn’t come up in the interview, and I have never eaten four cheeseburgers in a day. Stop being hyperbolic.”

“Speaking of things that start with hyper- and have a Bin them, hyperbaric therapy is great for people with infections from oxygen-starved tissue—”

“Is this what you do all day? You just sit on the internet and search for diseases I could potentially die from and then you come in here and harass me about them?”

Namjoon’s face, which had previously been scrunched up in righteous indignation, smooths over into something far more serious. (He doesn’t even have wrinkles. Namjoon’s skincare routine must be immaculate.)“Someone has a stroke every forty seconds in this country, Hoseok. I wouldn’t joke about this.”

Well, okay. Every forty seconds is far more often than Hoseok had been expecting. Not that he thinks about stroke statistics often, and definitely not outside of Namjoon’s overbearing presence—but, in his defense, it’s not like he’s had much of a reason. He gets a physical and routine blood work done every year and his doctor has never rung any alarm bells, so why would he?

But the resolution with which Namjoon is hammering away at this is definitely giving him pause.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by him, either. “See, you are concerned! Look, you’re far more likely to stick with something if you don’t overwhelm yourself, so let’s start small, okay? One salad per day. And a real salad, Hoseok—not one of those ones loaded with cheese and bacon and drenched in ranch dressing.”

Hoseok’s jaw snaps closed. “Then what’s the point of eating a salad?”

“To prevent you from dying before your thirtieth birthday. We’ve already established this.”

“Okay,” Hoseok drawls, “but it’s not the salad’s fault if that happens. You shouldn’t take it out on him.”

Namjoon gags. “Leave it to me to work for a man who thinks salads are male.” He casts his gaze skyward. “Please, Lord, if you’re listening, please put me out—”

“Please put me out of my misery first,” Hoseok interjects, also staring at the ceiling. Then, with a leveled glare, he says to Namjoon, “Fine. State your terms.”

“Really?” Namjoon asks, having the audacity to look shocked.

“Yeah, if it’ll get you off my back. I can’t spend one more lunch break in here with you.”

Namjoon smiles. Nothing friendly, either—it’s purely sinister and mocking. Then he says, “Great success!” in a horrible impersonation of Borat and the moment’s gone, lost to the stagnant air conditioning of Hoseok’s office.

Unsurprisingly, Namjoon’s terms include a lot of vegetables.

Hoseok has a private chef, of course, so it’s not like he has to really do much other than smile through the pain. But, really, would it actually kill him to be allowed a steak or some lamb skewers? What had started off as salads for lunch has turned into a full-blown war between the two of them. Hoseok had shown up with cheese and bacon on his salad one time and Namjoon nearly went off the rails, performing a very enthusiastic speech about how Hoseok cannot be trusted when left to his own devices, so here they are.

Namjoon’s trying his hardest to crack Hoseok, and Hoseok wouldn’t have become the CEO of a Fortune 500 company by the age of twenty-eight if he were so easily cracked.

So, yeah, here they are. Locked in a stalemate like two idiot deer with their antlers tangled together, except instead of feuding over territory or a mate, they’re ready to spear one another over vegetables.

Darwin would have a lot to say about this.

On Friday, at exactly one-o’clock on the dot, Namjoon barges into Hoseok’s office and slaps a stapled-together pile of papers onto his desk. “New terms.”

“Oh, no thank you,” Hoseok replies airily. “I’m not much of a Dua Lipa fan.”

“Wha—that’s ‘New Rules.’”

“Is it?” Hoseok’s smiling, eyebrows raised in that way that makes him look super charming and innocent.

Namjoon isn’t fooled, though. “Cut it out. I saw you eating ribs under your desk the other day. You owe me this.”

Not much shocks Hoseok, but being outed like this so brazenly sure does. “How did you know about that?”

“Uh, did you forget your office walls are made out of glass?” Namjoon twirls a finger in a circle, as if to say look at your four glass walls, you fucking idiot. Isn’t it great to be rich and have no privacy? “Not to mention you had a glob of barbeque sauce on your shirt that I could smell from a mile away.”

“I could’ve put it on my salad,” Hoseok reasons.

“Oh, please.” Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Six ribs and a side of potato salad does not a salad make.”

“What do you mean? It’s literally called potato salad, isn’t it? God, you’re uptight.”

Namjoon sucks in a deep breath, most likely reciting meditation mantras in his head while he thinks about his plants. “I didn’t come in here for this,” he eventually says, and Hoseok is honestly impressed at how collected he sounds. “The point is you can’t be trusted, so there’s new terms.”

Grabbing the stack of papers, Hoseok flips through them casually. “And if I don’t agree? Don’t forget I’m your boss.”

“If you don’t agree, I’m posting the security footage of you eating those ribs on Twitter.” Hoseok’s looking positively scandalized now. He wouldn’t. Namjoon wouldn’t do that to him. “Honestly, Hoseok. You should be ashamed of yourself. You looked like that video of that oversized baby covered in peanut butter.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Hoseok asks, eyes narrowed. “Seriously, who are you? Because the man standing across from me is not my sweet baby Namjoon. Sweet, sweet Namjoon, who always checks the toilet bowl before he uses it because he saw one of those videos from Australia of a snake being in there and he’d feel too guilty to even piss on a snake—”

Namjoon plants his palms on Hoseok’s desk and puffs out his chest a little. It’s a great chest, Hoseok must admit. Namjoon had mentioned in passing he’d started going to the gym, so he’s not—“I’m not afraid of you,” Namjoon reminds him. “Try me.”

“I have thirty-two lawyers.”

All Namjoon does is quirk an eyebrow. “I have thirty-thousand Twitter followers.”

“I can fire you.”

“Please do. Capitalism is a scourge on this earth and I no longer wish to participate in it.”

“I can fire you and make sure you never find employment in this city ever again.”

Namjoon shrugs. “Fine by me. I’ve been thinking about moving out of the city, anyway. Too much air pollution and I have no space to garden.”

Two things become clear very quickly: 1. Namjoon is far more cut-throat than Hoseok ever anticipated him being; and 2. Hoseok is woefully underprepared for this particular battle. No matter. He’s business-savvy. There’s no shame in conceding an unwinnable battle if he can still win the war, and that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

“Fine,” he relents after an awkward staring contest that lasts two minutes too long. “What are your new terms, then?”

“You have to go to a wellness retreat.”

Hoseok can’t stop the giggle that bubbles out of his mouth. “Sorry, did you say a retreat? How is that a punishment?”

“It isn’t,” Namjoon says. “It’s meant to reset your body and mind. No phones allowed. Just you and your partner in the refreshing, reinvigorating air of the rainfor—”

“What was that?” Hoseok interjects.

“What, the rainforest part? Don’t worry, it’s safe. You’re not, like, sleeping outside with tarantulas and shi—”

“No, not that. Me and my who?”

“Oh!” Namjoon grins. “Your partner. See, I did a lot of research and found the absolute best and most effective wellness retreat for people of your… uh, standard. And the man who runs this retreat is incredible. Like, world-renowned. But the catch is it’s a couple’s retreat, so you’ll have to find someone to play pretend with you for a month.”

Hoseok is a great businessman. He’s good at negotiations and managing relationships and making smart, anticipatory decisions. He has the bank account and name plate with accompanying title on his desk to prove it. But, as he takes in Namjoon’s words, the only thing his brain can come up with is the Windows shutdown sound and a glaring blue screen alerting him to danger.

Nevertheless, one of Hoseok’s rules for business is to never let the opposition see him frazzled. “Why don’t you just come with me?” he offers casually, his tone completely at odds with the pained, panicked expression on his face.

“Two reasons,” Namjoon says quickly and without hesitation, as if he expected this and had all the time in the world to prepare a rebuttal. “First, you couldn’t pay me enough to act like we’re a couple. No offense, but you’re kind of insufferable and I would never date a carnivore—”

Hoseok clicks his tongue. “Wow. Some offense taken.”

“—Second, someone has to stay behind and hold down the fort if you’re going to be gone for a month.”

“Why can’t Brad do it?” Hoseok asks. This time his strained tone completely gives him away.

“You don’t trust Brad.”

Hoseok’s brows furrow. “I never said that.”

“You absolutely did say that,” Namjoon responds immediately, pulling out his phone. “On April nineteenth at approximately ten-twenty in the morning, you said, and I quote, ‘Namjoon, why do you think I hired you? If I had to suffer through having one more Ivy League white guy who played lacrosse and got grandfathered into a fraternity as my assistant, I was going to throw myself down this elevator shaft.’ To which I replied, ‘Oh, you don’t like Brad?’ And you said, ‘Brad’s fine, I guess. I just don’t trust him.’ So, I asked you why, and you said, ‘I wouldn’t trust Brad to order a box of staples, let alone to know the difference between tteokbokki and hotteok—’”

“That doesn’t sound like something I’d say at all,” Hoseok lies. It absolutely sounds like something he’d say at ten-twenty in the morning on the nineteenth of April. “Also, did you really make a note of that? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Of course I didn’t,” Namjoon fires back. “I obviously took a voice recording of it first and transcribed it later. Sometimes I listen to it on repeat when I really want to strangle you and it calms me, because it serves as a reminder that if I go to prison for attempted murder, Brad will take my job. And we can’t have that, because you might simply distrust Brad, but I fucking hate him.”

Hoseok gapes a little. “We sure can’t,” he agrees. Tense air settles between the two of them as they both wait for the other to make the first move. Namjoon’s patient, having already played his hand knowing Hoseok has nothing to trump him, but Hoseok’s stubborn. He’ll drag this out as long as humanly possible. He’ll be ninety years old, on his fourth heart transplant, and still waiting to go on this trip. He’ll—

He’ll have to step down as CEO, because he has, once again, severely underestimated Kim Namjoon.

“Stop thinking so hard. It’s already booked and paid for.”

“With whose money?”

“Company card.”

“Which has my name on it. I’ll just cancel it.”

“It’s non-refundable, but go ahead. You’re still out all that money, though, so you might as well go.”

“I can’t just take a month off,” Hoseok says. He’s grasping at straws now. No one would dare tell him no, even if he wanted to take the next six years off. Human Resources would simply say of course, sir, have a great vacation, sir, see you in six years, sir, and off he’d go.

“Sure you can.” Namjoon stands, wipes his hands on the dress pants stretched to their limit across his thighs, and looks entirely too smug. “Better start looking for a date. Maybe you’ll have some luck on Tinder.”

Bile rises in Hoseok’s throat. “Tinder? Are you joking? I’m too rich to go on there. What if I find a nice date, take them home, and wake up in a bathtub full of ice because they found out who I was and decided to sell my organs?”

“No one would want them,” Namjoon deadpans. “I see the absolute filth you funnel into that body of yours and I can say, with one-hundred percent certainty, that your organs are worthless. Mine, on the other hand. Pristine—”

“Get the hell out of my office. I can’t even look at you right now.”

Good thing, too, because Namjoon’s still wearing that stupid little smirk. The really smug one that infuriates Hoseok to no end because it brings out his dimples, makes him look innocent and cute even though he’s not. The one that gloats Namjoon’s victory, like he’d known all along it was going to end this way. He’d hid those cards so far up his sleeve, Hoseok’s surprised they hadn’t started sprouting from his ears. God, he’s really insufferable. Makes Hoseok’s blood pressure spike something fierce.

“Did you ever stop to consider you’re the problem?” Hoseok calls to Namjoon’s retreating frame. When had he gotten so broad? “That maybe, if my heart does give out, it’ll be because I have to deal with you, the most stressful person on earth?”

“Nah, it’ll definitely be because two of your desk drawers are full of those disgusting oatmeal creme pies.” Somehow, Namjoon looks even more smug as Hoseok tries to discreetly glance at the aforementioned drawers. How does he find out all these things? “Anyway, you leave in two weeks! Good luck in your search. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, sir.”

Just as he’d assumed would be the case, Hoseok has no luck on Tinder.

See, he’d fucked up from the beginning, deciding to be honest and truthful and explain his plight to any sympathetic pair of eyes that may have gazed upon it. He’d also decided to use his real name, and anyone familiar with those List of Billionaires We Should Eat listicles had snuffed him out immediately. Long gone were the days of genuine conversation and playful flirting. Now, Hoseok’s inbox is full of more genitalia than he’s ever seen in his life. He’s literally drowning in it and can’t even take time to appreciate the situation in which he’s accidentally found himself.

He’s absolutely going to kill Kim Namjoon once this is all over.

After getting over the embarrassment of the next day’s MULTIMILLIONAIRE CEO JUNG HOSEOK SPOTTED ON TINDERheadline, because he hadn’t even had the good sense to use Raya, Hoseok resigns himself to scrolling through the contacts list in his phone. He’s not desperate or stupid enough to invite his ex, or any of the myriad of names he can’t put to faces because, despite what Namjoon says, he’s still concerned about his organs, so he also resigns himself to calling you.

His best friend.

Who’s going to spend the rest of her life roasting him over this.

“What a pleasant surprise,” you greet him. “Haven’t heard from you in weeks. Let me guess, you need me to make another burner account and explain to Rose Emoji and Hammer and Sickle Twitter why they shouldn’t eat you?”

“No—”

You tsk. “That’s a shame. I think I missed my calling in life.”

“Being a Twitter troll?”

“Yeah, obviously,” you agree. “Do you remember that time I set up the fake Gofundme to pay for my conservative cousin’s cephalanalectomy surgery because the liberal snowflake surgeon refused to perform it and he was going to die if they literally did not remove his head from his ass? That was fucking gold, Hobi. I’m a natural.”

“You’re definitely something,” he acquiesces. Then he has an idea. “Hey, do you wanna help me troll Namjoon?”

Your silence is deafening. “Uh, that depends.” Oh, Hoseok does not like your hesitation at all. “He has, like, a lot of Twitter followers, so I’m not trying to beef with him publicly, even if it is on a burner account.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afr—what the fuck kind of Twitter following does this guy have?”

“It’s probably better if you don’t know,” you say, voice laced with faux-concern. “I like Namjoon and I’d like him to remain employed by you simply so he can annoy the absolute fuck out of you until the day you either retire or die. So, yeah, let’s keep that between him and I.”

Hoseok feels dizzy. Probably because he’s been eating all these goddamn salads and now he’s nutritionally deficient. “Whatever. I do actually need your help with something, though.”

“You know my rates.”

“Why do I have to pay to hang out with you?” Hoseok whines. “Isn’t my life-long friendship enough?”

You snort. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Why is everyone bullying me lately? Can’t you spare a crumb of empathy for your best friend?”

“Empathy machine broke,” you deadpan. “Come on, ask me what my terms are. I already know what I want this time.”

Hoseok sighs. He wouldn’t relent this quickly for anyone else. He has a reputation to uphold, after all. “Fine. What are your—”

“I want a Birkin bag and dinner from that new Brazilian place by your office.”

“That’s a definite no on the bag,” Hoseok says. “I’m not spending that much money on anyone who isn’t my future spouse. We can have dinner, though.”

“I think you misheard me, sunshine. I said I want to go to dinner there. I’m going to gorge myself on expensive all-you-can-eat meats and I do not want to taint my experience watching you shovel a miserable, wilted salad into that pretty little heart-shaped mouth of yours. I’ll get agita.”

“Agi—I can’t believe this,” Hoseok whines, feeling the apples of his cheeks tinge red. “Have you and Namjoon been getting together to conspire against me? Is that why the two of you are bullying me?”

Hoseok expects you to say no. He expects you to say that you and Namjoon don’t even speak, you’d only met him once at that Christmas party a year ago, during which Namjoon spent the entire time waxing poetic about conifers and that time he dropped acid at Yosemite and cried for a week straight. But no. No, you don’t say anything at all, and if Hoseok was feeling bullied and just a little scandalized before, he’s absolutely feeling tortured now.

Namjoon, on his own, is bad.

You, on your own, are worse.

The two of you, together? No. Hoseok simply can’t—and won’t—allow it.

You suck in a breath. “In my defense—”

“You absolute traitor,” Hoseok seethes. “You, of all people, have betrayed me?”

There’s a tiny gasp on the other end of the line. “Oh, come off it, Hobi!” you snap. “Have you ever seen yourself eat? It’s foul. Like something straight out of Animal Planet.”

“It is not!”

“It is, and you know it,” you fire back. “I once watched you eat an entire personal-sized pizza in forty-two seconds. I don’t even think you chewed it. You just detached your jaw like some kind of creepy snake and inhaled. Something needed to be done.”

It’s Hoseok’s turn to gasp. “And that something was going full Judas Iscariot and selling me out to the Romans for thirty pieces of silver?”

There’s a pause on your end. “Is Namjoon the Romans in this scenario? Because, if so, I’ve got to say—”

“Who cares!” Hoseok snaps. “Who fucking cares who the Romans are—”

“The Romans, probably,” you chime in unhelpfully.

“—because the two of you have officially given me agita. How’s that? Huh? First I have to sit through all of Namjoon’s lunch lectures—”

“He should trademark that. Has a nice ring to it. Namjoon’s Lunch Lectures.”

“—then, I had to start eating salads. Salads. Then he signs me up for some stupid wellness retreat in the goddamn rainforest and tells me I have to find a fucking date, so off I go to Tinder, but everyone on there only wanted me for my harvestable organs, so I was like, ‘You know what, Hoseok? You know who you can always count on? Your best friend of twenty years. She’s never let you down. She’ll go with you, and the two of you will have a good time, because she’s your best friend and you enjoy her company.’ But no, come to find out—”

There’s a very loud shriek of laughter. “Oh my god. Holy shit, Hobi, is that really why you called? Namjoon actually signed you up for that couple’s retreat?”

Now, there’s a very loud shriek of disbelief. “You fucking knew about that?” You try to contain your snort. Really, you do, but it’s no match for Hoseok’s palpable ire. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me?”

“Oh, come on! It’ll be good for you, sunshine. You’re clearly overworked. You had visible stress lines in the last selfie you posted on Instagram.”

“I did not, I use hyaluronic acid!” he insists, but if Hoseok swipes out of your call to pull up his Instagram account, no one has to know.

You groan. “Why do you keep arguing with me? I’m never wrong.”

“Yes you are.” There’s a very pointed pause during which Hoseok can very clearly, in his head, hear you say see?

“Listen,” you say, voice strong with all the conviction of a person who hadn’t spent the last five minutes being a menace to society—and Hoseok. “I’ll go with you. I have some time off from my program and there’s nothing I’d rather do than spend a whole month in the rainforest with you.”

“I feel like that was sarcastic.”

You tut. “Honestly, Hobi, it’s like you don’t even know me at all. You know number three on my bucket list is going to Costa Rica to hang out with sloths.”

His phone pings a second later with a text from you. An article about a sloth sanctuary greets him, and he swallows the immediate ew that’s on the tip of his tongue. Sloths are cute, sure, but they also have bugs. “Great,” he chokes out. “Are you gonna meet a sloth and turn into Kristen Bell? Because I’m not signing up for that. You look like Kim Kardashian when you cry.”

“Fuck you.” Hoseok is a millionaire, he doesn’t deserve this treatment. “Now, what are your plans for tomorrow night? Let’s do dinner. We need to take a bunch of selfies during sunsets so we look like a plausible couple.”

When he was eight and you were seven, Hoseok witnessed his first act of violence.

A kid on the school bus had been giving him a hard time. Nothing totally awful, just being a bit of a dick the way kids are wont to do, and Hoseok was a pushover back then. Just wanted everyone to like him so he never really stuck up for himself. Just smiled and laughed off the teasing and cried about it later.

Apparently this was unacceptable to you.

You tossed your bookbag in Hoseok’s lap, pushed up your sleeves, made your way to the back of the bus, and told that kid you’d slam his head into the window if he didn’t stop picking on Hoseok.

He’d gotten his head slammed into the window approximately fourteen seconds later.

(Never messed with Hoseok again, though.)

Since then, the two of you have been nearly inseparable. Sure, there had been petty arguments here and there, and Hoseok had gone to an Ivy League across the country, but it was rare for the two of you to go more than a few days without talking. Even now, when Hoseok works eighty hour weeks and is busy being a Very Important Person, he still makes time for you. Sometimes that time is just exchanging stupid memes over text, but he always makes the effort.

Which is why, even though you don’t see the point in crafting some elaborate backstory and had only said the thing about the sunset selfies to con him into coming over, he stays quiet and shows up to your apartment for dinner and worldbuilding anyway, because it’s been too long since he’s last been here and he misses you.

“Are you taking notes?” Hoseok asks, pointing at you with his fork. “This is important.”

You groan into your wine glass. “Fake dating is so hard,” you whine. “Why can’t we just tell the truth?”

He levels you with a stare. “Because! Don’t you think it’s a bit…”

“What, you think it’s totally unbelievable that I could be in love with you?”

Oh. Hoseok doesn’t like this at all, either. Doesn’t like the way the words sound in your mouth. Doesn’t like the way his stomach drops as he digests them. Doesn’t like how nice they sound, like you’d just waded through all the extracurricular bullshit to get straight to the point and arrive at the inevitable conclusion, which is the two of you riding off together into that sunset you’d mentioned before.

He doesn’t like feeling like he might want that.

It’s not like he’s never thought about it. You’re his best friend and he has 20/20 vision, so of course he has. It's always just been one of those things: didn’t want to ruin your friendship, moved across the country, got too busy, didn’t think you’d want him like that in return.

“I—no,” he says unconvincingly. “I just… it’d totally be weird, right? Us pretending to be a couple?” He throws in a chuckle for good measure, as if the thought of dating you is so preposterous it simply has to be a joke.

You just shrug. Where Hoseok is all nervous jitters, you’re solid and unshaken, always. “Not really. We’ve been friends forever. We’re obviously comfortable with each other. You showing up to my place in those disgusting crochet shoes is proof enough of that.”

Hoseok looks down at his feet and frowns. “They’re Valentino.”

“More like Valenti-no.”

He rolls his eyes. “See, that right there is why we can’t wing this. I can’t pretend to like your awful jokes. I’ll out myself immediately.”

You roll yours right back. “Nah, I think it works. You’re obviously the high-strung CEO who doesn’t appreciate good humor when he sees it and I’m the sad housewife who just wants you to laugh at my jokes.” You jut out your bottom lip and pretend to cry. “Why won’t you just laugh at my jokes, Hobi?”

He flicks a green bean at you. “How’d we go from fake dating to fake marriage? Stop trying to swindle me.”

Once again, you pout dramatically. “God, first you refuse to laugh at my jokes, now you refuse to marry me? You’re breaking my heart here.”

“I’m not buying you a ring,” Hoseok scoffs. “I know for a fact you’ll just turn around and sell it for triple the price to some poor, unsuspecting bastard.”

“Not my fault there’s a lot of poor, unsuspecting bastards in the world. All of this just proves, for the billionth time, that I’m the better businessperson between the two of us.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Hoseok sighs. “Just because your lemonade stand outsold mine once doesn’t mean—”

“I also outsold you during that candle fundraiser in the fifth grade. And the candybars during Little League. And that bullshit one in high school with the pineapple pizzas—”

“Fine!” Hoseok throws his hands up. Then, with as little of a grimace as he can muster, he says, “Let’s go to Costa Rica, Mrs. Jung.”

It doesn’t land.

Your jaw drops immediately, an exaggerated gag spilling from your lips. “I changed my mind,” you deadpan. “No marriage for us unless you take my last name.”

“What’s wrong with mine?”

“Feels bad in my mouth. What’s wrong with mine?”

Hoseok rolls his lips together. “Nothing, really. Just—”

“Is this some kind of male pride thing? You refuse to take your wife’s last name for fear of public ridicule and castration jokes?”

“No.” Hoseok glares at you. “It’s just—the reservation’s in my name. Besides, if someone made shitty jokes about you, I’d slam their head into a window, too.”

“Oh.” As soon as your jaw snaps shut, a brilliant smile splits your face. “That was unexpectedly wholesome, Seok. You’re getting soft in your old age.”

Only for you, he wants to say. Instead, he shoves another forkful of rice in his mouth and a copy of the itinerary in your direction.

(For all your bravado and willingness to slam the heads of elementary school bullies into windows, you hate flying. So, if you squeeze Hoseok’s hand too tight and he snaps a photo of it under the guise of how comically purple-red it’s turning, and not at all because it’s the first time you’re holding his hand and some weird, sentimental part of him wants to commemorate it, that’s his business.

If his heart is so full it nearly bursts out of his chest at the sight of you crying over a sloth, and if he memorizes the stars in your eyes as you hold one—not caring about the bugs or the giant claws or the fact that sloth fur kind of looks like a bird nest, algae included—that’s his business.

If he posts the photo of you crying to his Instagram, knowing damn well you’re going to yell at him for it later, and he cackles wildly over Namjoon’s comment:

[namjooning commented: why does she cry like that kim kardashian meme? junghoseok replied: Right? That’s what I said]

—that’s his business. It’s only because he’d said you look like Kim Kardashian when you cry and, if nothing else, Hoseok loves to be proven right. It has nothing to do with wanting to remember you that happy forever. Not at all.

If he feels like he’s going into cardiac arrest when you hug him tightly, murmuring a quiet thank you in his ear on the last night of your stay at the sanctuary, it’s simply because you’re not very tactile. Hugs—and outward affection—from you are rare. That’s all. His skin absolutely does not break out in goosebumps. Doesn’t feel tingly all over. His breathing continues as normal.

If he finally comes to the startling realization that he’s in way too deep when you fall asleep on his shoulder during the drive to the resort, well…

Hoseok may be deadly smart, but he’s always been a complete fool when it comes to you.

If he sends a panicked text to Namjoon asking how he’s supposed to survive the next month, and if Namjoon misinterprets it as an ambitious, live-to-work type-A personality freaking out over not knowing how to unwind and tells him to just take it easy, and Hoseok misinterprets that as go for it, well…

The next four weeks sure are going to be interesting, aren’t they?)

See, the thing about Hoseok is he has all the money and prestige a man of his status could want.

He’s filthy rich, he’s well-respected, he’s kind. People love him. He loves people in return. He’s been called the living embodiment of actual sunshine more times than you or he could possibly count. There’s truly nothing he wants for in this world.

Hoseok is also the type of person who gets anxious at the thought of calling the Malaysian restaurant you two frequent to place a delivery order. Namjoon has to force him to make his own personal appointments under threat of death. He changed doctors because his new one lets him schedule appointments online. He won’t go to a fast food drive-thru unless they have mobile ordering.

It’s just the way Hoseok is. He’s been that way as long as you’ve known him—at least since that time in the fifth grade when his mother once gave him twenty bucks and told him to call the pizza place and order dinner for the two of you and he totally balked, resigning the two of you to toaster oven Ellio’s that tasted way too similar to skating rink pizza to be a coincidence.

Which is why he balks again as soon as the two of you reach the front desk of the resort, shoving you in front of him to talk to the man behind it.

Maybe it’s the raging pansexual inside Hobi rather than his uncharacteristic fear of talking to literally anyone, but you totally get it. You don’t really want to talk to this man, either. He’s ash blond and bathed in golden light, highlighting his already golden skin to look completely ethereal, and he’s got a smug look on his face that tells you he knows exactly how intimidatingly good-looking he is.

Still, you’re not easily shaken. Jung Hoseok is your best friend—and fake boyfriend, lest you’ve forgotten—for fuck’s sake. You’ve committed violence for him. Golden Desk Boy is going to have to try a whole lot harder than this. “Hiii,” you say, lips painted in a saccharine smile. God, you’re so fake. “We’re checking in under Jung.”

The man—whose name badge says Jimin—returns your fake smile. “Great! Thank you so much for joining us for your stay.”

You take a moment to look around while Jimin pulls up your reservation, purposefully skipping over Hoseok’s form. He’s not doing anything, just sitting in a plush armchair as he pretends to read the newspaper, but you feel the flames of annoyance licking at your heels nonetheless, because you wouldn’t be here to begin with if it weren’t for Hoseok and his subordinate micromanager, and what kind of weird place has he brought you to?

Everything is white. Not in the sterile kind of way, because the monotony is broken up with lush greenery and the occasional piece of teak furniture, but there’s enough white for you to wonder if it’s some sort of statement. The floors and walls are white. All the non-wooden furniture is white. Jimin’s silk uniform and teeth are both blindingly white. Not that you’d seen many people since you stepped into the lobby, but the ones you had seen had been wearing white, too.

Jimin looks up from the computer screen and you’re almost surprised to find his irises aren’t white, too. Maybe it’s rude, but he seriously gives you the creeps. “Everything is ready for your stay, Mr. and Mrs. Jung. I’ve requested someone come to retrieve your luggage.”

You gawk. “Oh, we’re not—we’re not married.”

“Oh?” Jimin asks, one perfect eyebrow arched as his eyes twinkle with intrigue.

“Yeah,” you insist. “Not that I need to explain my morals and ethics to a stranger, but I don’t believe in the patriarchy.”

“Really? That’s great,” Jimin lies. This man is overflowing with shithead energy. “Neither do I.”

You scoff. “Oh, sure. That’s why you just assumed my bes—my partner and I were married.”

“That’s what the reservation says.” He looks very amused now. Kim Namjoon is going to receive a very lengthy text message in approximately ten minutes. “I do apologize for this mistake. I’ll make sure to correct it right away.” Amusement slowly morphs into a challenge. “Is there a new last name I can put on the reservation for you instead?”

Call it a hunch, but you think it best to not give this person any of your identifying information. “No.”

“Shall I leave it as Jung, then?”

It physically pains you to say this, but you manage to choke out a very strained, “Yes.”

“Fantastic,” Jimin sing-songs. “I’m very glad we were able to sort out this issue for you, Mr. and Mrs. Jung.”

Choke on a dick and die is what you want to say (for no reason, really; it isn’t like Jimin’s been outright cruel to you), but as much as Hoseok avoids people—and avoids confrontation even more—he appears at your side, looking every bit the sunshine after a storm he always is. “Everything okay?” he asks, placing a gentle hand at the small of your back. “…Dear,” he tacks on as Jimin’s eyes study the two of you.

“Everything’s great!” you chirp, determined to cast away Jimin’s obvious suspicions. “Jimin here says someone’s coming to get our bags.” Another fake, saccharine smile. Like sweet’n low. “He’s been very helpful.”

Everything’s great, in you-speak, translates to I once, foolishly, thought Kim Namjoon was on my side. I now see the errors of my ways and I demand justice and revenge. Fool you once (getting roped into being Hoseok’s fake partner to come to a weird wellness retreat), shame on Namjoon. Fool you twice (allowing him to book the reservation and label you a married couple), shame on you. There won’t be a third time, because Kim Namjoon’s days are numbered once you’re both in the same country again.

“Will you be needing a tour?” Jimin asks, voice tinkling like expensive crystal.

You grasp Hoseok’s hand far too tight to be believable and wave off the receptionist. “No, thank you! Just a map will do. That’s how we met, you know—at a… map… class.”

“A map class?” Jimin parrots. “Riveting.” He smiles. Sweet’n low.

“It sure was!” You turn to Hobi. “Wasn’t it? …Babe,” you choke out. The word tastes so gross on your tongue.

When you look up at him, Hoseok’s wearing that trademark expression of his: the one where his eyes are too wide, tight-lipped smile stretched too thin. Hoseok’s convinced it’s convincing. It isn’t. It’s terrifying and makes your skin feel itchy from the inside. “Mmm, yep,” he agrees easily. “Love a good map. Some good… cartography.” He pinches three fingers together because he’d seen it on The Sopranos and it’s just a thing he does now.

Sometimes you forget Hoseok is rich-rich.

Of course Namjoon had mentioned booking the trip on the company card and of course you know what someone like him having access to a company card implies. It’d implied you were going on an all-expenses-paid trip on some massive company’s dime. But, perhaps naively, you’d just envisioned a fancy hotel room at some resort near a beach. Shoreline bonfires, tiny portions of food on massive plates when you order room service, colorful drinks with tiny umbrellas and a skewer of fruit stuck inside, three-digit price tag.

Instead, the two of you follow the map to a secluded, private house. There’s a balcony. The shower is made entirely of glass and surrounded by the lush greenery outside. The exterior wall in the bedroom is also made of glass and affords you panoramic views of the beach and forest and everything in between. The thread count of the Egyptian cotton sheets is disgustingly low.

(Which, speaking of Hoseok and all his money—he’d been the one to teach you about thread counts to begin with. You’d wrongfully assumed the higher the number the better, but Hoseok had gently grabbed the scratchy 1500 count sheets out of your hands with a pained grimace and handed you a set of Supima cotton sheets with a startlingly low thread count instead.

Rich people have everything backwards.)

Truth be told, it’s exactly the kind of place you’d see on some influencer’s Instagram account. The kind of place they’d delude you into thinking you could afford, too, because having your influencer boyfriend take a picture of you sinking into the lush white duvet and plastering a $10 filter on it is more important than affording your student loan payments.

But you digress.

Either way, you’ll have to send a thank you card to the board of directors.

Hoseok, on the other hand, balks for the second time. Takes one look at the singular bed and completely shuts down, Windows sound effects practically blaring over an invisible loudspeaker above his head once again. “Where’s the other bed?” he asks stupidly.

You snort. Stash your suitcase in the corner. You’ll unpack it later… or next week. Whenever you get around to it, really. “What other bed?”

“You know, like. The other one.”

“There’s only one, Seok. Why would there be two? This is a couple’s retreat.”

He pouts. “Not every couple sleeps together, you know. My grandparents have separate bedrooms.”

“No offense, bud, but your grandfather also wears diapers.”

“So?”

“So there might be a correlation, is what I’m saying.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t sleep in the same bed as your husband of seventy years just because he might pee the bed sometimes?”

You level him with a look. Unpacking doesn’t sound like such a bad idea anymore. “I’m well past the age where I could conceivably be married to someone for seventy years, so it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re not even thirty yet.”

You click your tongue. “Hoseok, you of all people know I never expected to live past the age of thirteen. There’s no way I’m making it to ninety-seven.”

“You only thought you were gonna die when you were thirteen because you had your appendix removed.” You give him another look. “And you got your tonsils removed that same year.” Another one. “What?” he huffs. “What’d I forget?”

“That time we were playing volleyball in gym class and you spiked the ball right in my face and broke my nose.”

“Not a life-threatening injury.”

“Thirteen was a really hard year for me,” you retort, overdramatic as always. “It’s a miracle I survived.”

“Oh my god—”

“A miracle, Hobi.”

With a disapproving shake of his head, he’s off to unpack his luggage, because Hoseok is filthy rich and has expensive clothes that, according to him, cannot, under any circumstances, go hours without being hung up properly. You’ve never seen a silk shirt with a wrinkle in it, let alone a wrinkle on any article of Hoseok’s clothing, but you learned a long time ago it’s much less stressful to just let him be neurotic about his wardrobe.

You, on the other hand, are going to do no such thing. You’ll live out of your suitcase for as long as you can get away with it, so you flop face-first onto the bed, careful to leave your shoes dangling off the edge. Hoseok’s already going to give you shit about—

“Yah!” he wails, his fifteenth white button-down shirt draped haphazardly off a hanger. “No street clothes in the bed!”

You roll your eyes. “Street clothes? Who says shit like that? Most people just have clothes.”

“You’ve been wearing them all day,” Hoseok argues, because there’s very little he loves more than an argument. “They’re dirty, and now they’ve made the bed dirty, too.”

However, to the detriment of Hoseok’s well-being, you love arguing, too. You look down at both your clothes and the pristine duvet and vaguely gesture at both. “Ah, yes. So filthy. The bed—which you’d nearly had an aneurysm over sharing with me not even ten minutes ago, might I add—is so dirty. How will we ever be able to sleep in it?”

Watching Hoseok mentally tabulate through the Seven Stages of Grief is the most entertainment you’ve had in hours. Jaw clenched, he simply stares at you for a few seconds before leveling his voice and repeating, “No street clothes in the bed.” Then he tacks on a please that’s clearly an afterthought. “Didn’t you bring loungewear? Can’t you just wear that instead?”

You did, in fact, bring loungewear. It would’ve been irresponsible not to, considering the length of your stay and proximity to paradise, but stubbornness seems to be the flavor of the day so you just shrug and toe your shoes off. “I’m not going to change. We don’t have long before we have that welcome dinner, anyway. I’m not going to put on loungewear only to change into dinner-wear and then come back, shower, and change again into pajamas.”

Hoseok’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What welcome dinner?”

“Do you not read?” you tease. “There was a whole itinerary attached to the map. We have a welcome dinner tonight with that guy Namjoon’s in love with.”

“Which one?”

You click your tongue. “The guy who runs this place.” Then you furrow your brow. “What do you mean ‘which one’?”

“Nothing. Just—you know how Namjoon is. He falls in love at least eight separate times whenever he goes to the gardening store.”

“Guess he doesn’t herb his enthusiasm.” Hoseok groans loudly as you point finger guns at him.

He lobs a mated pair of socks at your head that bounce off your ass instead. “Please just get ready for dinner. I can’t do this.”

To put it mildly, Kim Seokjin is fucking weird.

Hoseok hadn’t noticed. He’d taken one look at him and his mischievous eyes and welcoming smile and dove right in, engaging him in endless conversation about god-knows-what. That’s just how Hoseok is. Aside from his justifiable distrust of Tinder dates, he makes and keeps friends effortlessly. It’s the sunshine in him, your mother always used to say, because Hoseok was always the sun and everyone else were sunflowers, desperate to bask in him and reflect his light.

(Namjoon has always said it’s because he’s an Aquarius. You don’t know what that means, but you assume it’ll click once you buy a few crystals and start exclusively listening to Fleetwood Mac.)

And that has always been okay—good, even. He’s never lost that innate goodness, even when he’d been placed at the head of a billion-dollar corporation where ruthlessness is encouraged. Hoseok’s edges remain rounded and soft; he emphasizes a need for kindness, shows it has a place amongst the cold, calculated world of business. Really, it’s great. You can’t be more proud to call him your best friend.

However.

It doesn’t mean Hoseok isn’t a fucking idiot sometimes.

Because he’s good, his first assumption is always that others are good, too. No matter how many times you’ve grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him away from a fire, his first instinct is still to reach out and touch it.

His first serious girlfriend, back in high school? Yeah, you’d warned him about her. Told him she was messing around with a kid on the soccer team on the side, but Hoseok had insisted she’d never do that. “She’s into embroidery,” he’d said, as if that excused someone from being a two-timing cheat.

That guy he’d been partnered with for a serious project in business school? You’d listened to Hoseok talk about him over Skype once and suggested he find a new one. Kept silent as he unloaded on you a few weeks later after the guy had fucked him over.

You’d even advised him against hiring Namjoon. Couldn’t fathom why Hoseok would even be considering hiring someone who showed up to an interview hours early. Obviously he hadn’t listened, and look where it’s gotten the two of you.

It isn’t that you’ve got a sixth sense for assholes or anything. It’s just that Hoseok’s such a terrible judge of character that it makes you look like Sherlock Holmes in comparison.

So it comes as no surprise to you when Seokjin excuses himself for a moment and Hoseok turns to you with hearts in his eyes only to be greeted by your Hoseok you’re doing that thing again where you put people on a pedestal who are not to be trusted look.

“No,” he dismisses immediately. “Him? No way.”

Your nostrils flare. “Hoseok. Don’t be an idiot about this. He’s weird.”

“He’s just eccentric. Aren’t all these New Age hippie types like that? The guy runs a wellness retreat for fuck’s sake—of course he’s weird.”

“His vibes are off,” you retort, which admittedly sounds like a New Age hippie thing to say, but the longer Hoseok insists you’re wrong, the more you begin to wonder if you are. The two of you had been sent here by Namjoon, and he’s easily one of the weirdest people you’ve ever met. Maybe Hoseok’s right.

You allow yourself two minutes of self-doubt. Then you’re shaking your head and poking your tongue into the fat of your cheek because you know bad vibes when you feel them and Kim Seokjin has them in spades.

The man in question returns a few moments later, two new men in tow: a taller one with a boxy smile and a tan and a shorter one with a scowl that looks permanent but not on purpose, like it’d just shown up on his face one day and forgot to leave. The grumpy-looking one sits across from Hoseok, looking every bit as unsure as you, while the other one takes the empty seat to his left, right in front of you.

“I’m Taehyung,” he says, ass barely in the chair before he’s leaning over the table to shake your hand. His feels like a hand that’s shaken many others—firm, warm, soft. Feels a lot like shaking Hoseok’s hand might feel, an importance simmering beneath the surface, but you’ve never had a reason to do so. “This is Yoongi.” Taehyung gestures to the man beside him. “He doesn’t talk much but you get used to him, I think.”

“You think?” Hoseok laughs, an eyebrow quirked, fully in his element. Words soft, edges softer. Hoseok was born for these types of moments. Meeting strangers, knowing what to say.

Yoongi stays quiet. Barely looks around the room, which is a feat in itself. Seokjin had invited all of you to dinner in a grand dining hall, walls tall and floors gleaming, both stark white like the rest of the resort. Immediately sat at the head of the table like some sort of king, and you would’ve thought something of it, maybe looked at Hoseok and mouthed what’s this guy’s deal? But then he placed his napkin neatly across his lap, looked at the two of you, smiled dazzlingly, and said, “Is cereal soup?”

It had all gone downhill from there, really.

Now Taehyung and Yoongi are seated across from you and Hoseok and Yoongi still hasn’t said a word and you’re hoping maybe, just maybe, he’s also picking up on how weird all of this is. Taehyung has that exuberant optimism that reminds you a lot of Hoseok so you disregard him as a comrade immediately. Just the kind of guy to love any and everyone, oblivious to bad vibes. No, Yoongi’s the one you need on your side and it’s glaringly obvious.

One small hiccup, though: he really doesn’t talk.

Like, at all.

Taehyung talks enough for the both of them, endearing everyone with a smile and an endless supply of stories told in that deep baritone voice of his. Every now and then he’ll turn to Yoongi and say isn’t that right, dumpling? and Yoongi just hums an acknowledgment. Doesn’t seem put off by the pet name at all, despite looking like someone that’d be put off by pet names.

They’re cute. You mouth as much to Hoseok and he just smiles at you in return, a soft little thing. Yoongi and Taehyung are the kind of couple who give off we’ve been together for decades energy even though they don’t look much older than you. Just two people completely at ease with one another, and it does something to your stomach. All small, hidden touches and words communicated through looks alone. Best friends and lovers. Partners both in crime and in life.

It’s a sweet moment.

It’s a moment completely negated by Seokjin’s booming voice at the head of the table. “Well, this was fun, wasn’t it? Let’s move to the lounge.”

Yoongi doesn’t look to Taehyung. Yoongi looks to you, and it’s only because you’d looked at him instead of Hoseok that you notice the subtle downturn of the corners of his mouth, the slight pinch between his brows. He doesn’t outright ask it, but there’s a question in his body language: What’s this guy’s deal?

It’s one you’d also like an answer to.

Yoongi keeps his eyes on you the entire time the five of you talk in the lounge. Well, Taehyung’s once again speaking for both of them, hands and arms gesturing wildly all around him, and Yoongi seems more than content to sit in silence. Seokjin and Hoseok chime in where they should, asking questions and emphasizing words and generally being agreeable. You, on the other hand, sit next to Hoseok and try to exude the same energy Taehyung and Yoongi do. The we’re so in love and comfortable with each other we don’t even need to touch type. The we only post selfies together three times a year because we don’t need to flaunt our relationship variety.

But, as all inevitable things inevitably do, the conversation moves to relationships. Seokjin sneaks it in under the guise of getting to know everyone, and Taehyung takes the bait immediately, seemingly always looking for a reason to show off Yoongi and talk him up. You hate that it’s endearing. You hate that you want something like it—someone enamored with you without preamble. A just because kind of love. Something solid and bone-deep.

“It was totally by accident,” Taehyung’s saying as your attention drifts back to him. Not soon enough, because he’s clearly halfway through a story and you have no idea what the plot is. “We’d both been backpacking through Europe, and I was trying to check in at this tiny hostel in Thessaloniki but my Greek is terrible, understandably, so I was really struggling. Trying to tell the poor woman behind the desk my name and that I’d booked a private room, and she just kept shrugging and looking at me like I was crazy. It was, like, midnight, so I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep, and then out of nowhere this guy”—He jerks his thumb at Yoongi, who remains silent and still—“just comes up behind me and starts speaking fluent Greek.”

Hoseok’s eyes widen. “Fluent Greek? Wow,” he says, eyebrows disappearing beneath his fringe, “that’s really impressive.”

“You have no idea,” Taehyung continues to gush. “He speaks, like, fifteen languages fluently, I swear to god. Anyway, turns out the hostel never received my reservation, which makes sense because I’d tried booking it from the top of a mountain. Yoongi took pity on me and let me share his room since they were fully booked.”

Seokjin smiles and touches a hand to his heart. It’s completely performative but it works—Taehyung looks like he’s just passed some silent test and won the lottery. “Adorable. And so noble, Yoongi. Not many people would do that for a stranger.”

Yoongi shrugs.

Undeterred, Seokjin turns his attention to you and Hoseok. “How about the two of you? Set up by friends? Blind date?” His beady eyes are studying you both diligently, eyes raking over your face for the tiniest tell. “Childhood friends turned lovers?”

Hoseok coughs.

“We met at a cartography class,” you explain, voice even despite Seokjin’s prolonged eye contact making you want to lock yourself in the nearest bathroom. Hoseok had nearly given the two of you away, and it was all you could do to recall whatever bullshit you had tried selling Jimin to cover your asses.

Yoongi’s fighting off a smile. Taehyung looks enthralled. “Cartography? Whoa, now that’s something you definitely don’t hear everyday.”

“A lost art, if you ask me,” Seokjin says. “Are either of you geographists, then?”

Hoseok tenses, fidgeting ceasing immediately. The two of you hadn’t talked about this—about how honest you wanted to be, how much would be fabricated—so while this is typically the kind of environment he’d thrive in, you pluck the reins from his hands and take over. “Double majored back in undergrad. Geography and psych.”

“Interesting combo.”

You nod. Not the first time you’d heard that. “Well, there are things you want to do and things you should do, so I did both.”

“And what was it you wanted to do?”

You wave your hand, gesturing vaguely. “Ah, you know. You go into university with all these aspirations, have all these starry-eyed ideas. You’re gonna be someone, you’re gonna help people, you’re gonna make an impact and travel all over and be super important. People are gonna pay to hear you speak and all that bullshit.” Hoseok’s looking at you—you can feel it, but you can also see the blurred outline of his profile. “What did I want to do? Something in human geography, maybe cultural or political geography.”

“The psych degree?” Seokjin continues prodding, and you find you don’t mind it. Hoseok certainly never had. Was always far too busy doing important business things on the opposite side of the country.

“Picked it up about halfway through. Figured I should have a back-up plan in case I wound up being the only geopolitician working at Starbucks.” Your fingers start picking at your pants even though there’s nothing to grab onto. You’d only packed your best, keenly aware of the standards required to be in Jung Hoseok’s inner circle. “A lot of the research and analysis courses overlapped, so I just… did it.”

“That’s very ambitious.” Seokjin’s compliment feels like some weird kind of approval, like another unspoken test Taehyung would grin over passing. “And now? You’d mentioned undergrad.”

“Started a post-bacc in GIS since I liked doing research. Hence the cartography class.”

Hence the cartography class, as if that’s the end of it and there’s nothing else to say. Like you hadn’t dropped out of that to pursue a Master’s in psychology and maybe med school or a PhD to follow, because your mother would be proud of someone with a doctorate, right? You could finally stop hearing—

Did you hear Hoseokie got an internship at Google? They pay $8,000 a month!

Did you hear Hoseokie graduated at the top of his class? His mother said he didn’t even have to apply to any MBA programs, they recruited him! He’s torn between Stanford and the University of Penn. Isn’t that a nice problem to have?

Did you hear that Hoseokie finished his program early? He’s so smart. His parents must be so proud of him.

Did you hear Hoseokie’s moving back? Just an associate vice president position for now, but his mother says there’s already talks of him being promoted to CEO within the next few years.

That’s not to say you weren’t proud of him or that you were resentful. You’ve always been Hoseok’s biggest fan, but Hoseok had moved across the country and still casted a shadow so large it was impossible to not be swallowed up by it, and it’s hard to have all the things you want to hear be said about someone else.

So, yeah, hence the cartography class.

“What about you, Hoseok? You’ve been quiet.”

Hoseok’s never quiet. When you turn to look at him, he’s already staring back. There’s no perpetual million-dollar smile, no wrinkles at the corner of his eyes from laughing too much, smiling too much, enjoying life too much. There’s just a concerned look that you don’t really know what to do with, because you’ve spent so much of your life worrying over Hoseok—over his concerning judge of character, his inability to cook, those kids on the schoolbus, his diet and now his organs—that things feel out of sorts now that the script is flipped.

It takes him a while to come back down to earth, realize someone has asked him a question. “Business,” is all he says.

He’s still staring.

Things are tense.

Weird-tense, because things are never tense between you and Hoseok. Not even back in high school when you’d threatened his then-girlfriend, the one who was cheating on him, and she ratted you out. Hoseok had shown up all red in the face, talked a lot about what would happen if you ruined things for him, but you’d just said alright, Hobi, whatever you say and things had gone back to normal.

But back in your overpriced rental house, things are definitely weird-tense.

“You never told me any of that.”

Ah. You shrug, toweling off your hair after your shower, and rifle through your suitcase for suitable pajamas. “You never asked.”

“I thought the map story was bullshit. You never—you double majored?”

Isn’t this so typical, you think. You could write a biography on Hoseok, all his accomplishments and dreams and all those silly little subplots that connect at the end, and he didn’t even know your college major. Majors. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

In the bathroom, you go through your skincare routine on autopilot and floss and brush your teeth. Try to rid yourself of the taste of disappointment. Smear cold cream under your eyes and try to pretend the sting is from the scent and not welling tears, because this is not something to cry over. This is stupid and unimportant, and you now have two and a half degrees in psychology that tell you how to deal with it.

But Hoseok’s reluctant to let it go. Wants to talk it to death when you’re more than happy to never discuss it again. You’re twenty-seven, meaning you’ve had at least five years to accept the fact that your mother had given all her pride to Hoseok instead. You’re not really keen on spending another five years feeling inadequate. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He appears in the doorway of the bathroom looking positively distressed. “Mom had only told me about the psych degree and that you were trying to get into UCLA for your Master’s. She never said anything about the geography degree.”

You just shrug. “Things you want to do and things you should, right?”

Hoseok doesn’t buy it. “Was telling me what was going on in your life not something you wanted to do, then?” He looks stung.

You’re tired, still a little fucked up from the jet lag and sitting through a bizarre dinner and serving yourself up on a silver platter to an even more bizarre man that now knew something about you that not even Hoseok had known. “I’m going to sleep,” you say, because you’re even more loose-lipped than usual when tired and prone to irritability, and provoking an argument on the first night of a month-long vacation is not something you’re going to do.

And Hoseok—

Hoseok must get it, you think, because he seems to deflate. Just sighs, shoulders hunched, before he steps aside to let you out of the bathroom. No argument, no thinly-veiled threats, no guilt-trips. Resignation: the same kind Namjoon had spoken about when he’d relayed the story of how the wellness retreat came to be.

A resigned Hoseok is probably a dangerous Hoseok, but you’re too exhausted to give a shit. You’ll strategize in the morning, come up with a new plan.

Except the morning comes and Hoseok doesn’t mention it at all.

He doesn’t say anything about it for the next three days, actually, which are all the same and go like this:

On the morning of day two, Hoseok reluctantly wakes you up just after six. There’s a small offering of fruit and coffee waiting for you on a tray that you promptly ignore in lieu of going back to sleep, which lasts until approximately 6:06am when Hoseok wakes you again. The two of you are scheduled for a morning yoga session at seven-o’clock, which is supposedly mandatory and can’t be canceled.

Taehyung takes the mat next to you, leaning over to ask, “Have you ever done this before?” with a slightly panicked expression on this face.

“Every Saturday morning back home,” you answer. Taehyung chuckles nervously, and your experience becomes painfully clear when you’re nailing your Sugarcane pose and everyone else topples over sideways. Yoongi doesn’t make a sound as he hits the floor, and he’s so quiet that your instructor misses him completely when they fret around the room helping everyone else.

You’re so distracted by helping Yoongi yourself that you miss the deep furrow of Hoseok’s brow. And the crestfallen look on his face. Just another thing he hadn’t known.

After you survive yoga, the two of you sit through an awkward breakfast with Taehyung, Certified Chatterbox, and Yoongi, Not One. Taehyung doesn’t comment on Hoseok’s newfound quietude, which is a little surprising, but Yoongi quirks an eyebrow at you that makes your coffee suddenly taste stale.

Between the hours of nine and one, Hoseok disappears to go to the spa or the gym or the gift shop, because he is literally incapable of not spending money. You’re waiting for him to realize how weird it is for a wellness retreat to sell souvenirs but he never brings it up, just strolls back into the room each time and dumps a concerning amount of magnets into his suitcase.

(You wonder if any of them are for your mother. You wonder what she’ll think about this—you and Hoseok going to a couple’s retreat together, playing pretend. You wonder if bagging someone like Hoseok would finally make her proud of you and how shallow that is.)

After lunch, which is barely less awkward than breakfast, the four of you are ushered into a so-called Meditation Clinic, hosted by a very muscular guy with a baby face and a lot of tattoos. His name is Jungkook, and he nearly sends Hoseok into Sexuality Crisis Episode No. 2. Hoseok doesn’t do a damn second of meditating for three days, just stares at the wall looking like a baby who’d just been tricked into sucking on a lemon. Taehyung chatters away at you the entire time, completely oblivious to Jungkook’s annoyed stare. You share an exasperated look with Yoongi on your way out.

Hoseok returns to your rental home on the evening of day three looking scandalized. Apparently, this is the result of him running into Jimin, who’d offered to read and analyze his birth chart for him. Apparently, this is Jimin’s second job when there’s no new check-ins to harass. Apparently, Hoseok has been “read for filth” by “the stars” and “doesn’t wish to discuss it further.”

(Interestingly, Jimin corners you not long after. There’s a dangerous twinkle in his eye as he says, “Curious?” and gestures to a small room just off the lounge.

“The curtain’s kind of corny, isn’t it?” you say, scoffing as one strand of beads smacks you in the side of the head. “Like, this all feels very mysterious carnival tent and not billion-dollar resort, y’know?”

Jimin takes a seat behind a large desk, completely void of decoration. You’re not sure what you expected—some tarot cards, maybe a crystal ball to sell the illusion—but it’s empty. “You must have Leo placements,” he mutters.

“Moon and Mars, actually. Lucky guess.”

He gestures for you to take the seat in front of him. “Mm, not really luck, they’re just really good at lying.”

“And what am I lying about?”

Jimin ignores your question. Instead, he cocks his head to the side and says, “When’s your birthday?”

“Aren’t you the astrologer? Take a guess.” Jimin just stares, looking endlessly amused. Eventually you huff and answer. “March 15th.”

Overdramatic as always, Jimin fake-gags. “A Pisces sun with a Leo moon? Horrendous, truly. How do you function?”

“Stunted, clearly.”

He actually laughs at this, rewarding you with a brilliant smile and an endearingly crooked front tooth. “No matter.” He shakes his head, blond locks falling elegantly around his face as if arranged by the gods themselves. “You may have a truly tragic sun-moon pairing, but it bodes well for you and that neurotic mess of a best friend you’re fake-dating.”

You choke so hard Jimin actually offers you a glass of water.)

Dinners are spent as a five-piece. Seokjin asks more idiotic questions, such as are eyebrows considered facial hair, which prompts a very deep exhale from Yoongi, and did Adam and Eve have bellybuttons, which sends Taehyung into an existential crisis he’s yet to recover from.

Sometimes there are bonfires on the beach at night during which Jungkook plays an acoustic guitar and sings like an angel. Hoseok is conspicuously absent during these.

He’s also absent during your nightly routine. You shower, smear your skincare all over your face, and brush your teeth alone. You change into your pajamas and crawl into your side of the bed alone. By night three, you’re so annoyed you build a pillow wall between the two of you that you instruct Hoseok, under threat of bodily harm, not to demolish.

On the morning of day five, you’re awake before the sun. You sit in the darkness for a while, listening to Hoseok’s soft breaths on the other side of the pillow wall. He hasn’t gone five days without talking to you in twenty years. Even when he’d threatened you over his high school girlfriend, you were back in his good graces within 48 hours, and all of this for what? Because your mother is kind of an asshole and you’re kind of jealous and Hoseok is kind of self-centered sometimes?

“Hobi,” you say, leaning over the wall to nudge his shoulder. “Hobi, wake up.”

He doesn’t budge, mouth hanging open as he continues snoring quietly, these little hiccups of breath every now and then. All you can do is sigh. “Hoseok.” Nothing. “Jung Hoseok,” you try again, voice hardened into a baseless threat. He keeps snoring.

You groan, run your hands over your face in exasperation. Stupidly, you’d assumed that Hoseok would be easier to wake up now that he’s a Very Important Person worth millions of dollars. Clearly he’s not. So you throw the duvet off your legs and stumble to the bathroom in the dark. Brush your teeth and wash your face and throw on a loose long-sleeved shirt and a pair of yoga pants. It’s the weekend, so you’re free to do as you please, no mandated schedule, and you know exactly who you’re going to see.

Unsurprisingly, Taehyung is on the beach, cross-legged in the center of a large blanket close to the water but far enough away that the tide isn’t a concern. His curls are blowing gently in the breeze and every now and then he lets out a huff as he tries to flick them out of his eyes. No wonder Yoongi took pity on him back in that hostel in Thessaloniki. You’ve barely known him a week and are already hopelessly endeared by him.

“Good morning,” he says, eyes closed. Even the sun is barely awake this early, but it spills across Taehyung’s cheeks in dusky, golden rays nonetheless. “The beach is beautiful at this hour, isn’t it?”

Ah, so Taehyung’s one of those. Chatty at all hours, just like Hoseok. You groan. “Yeah, sure.”

“I have a thermos of coffee if you want some.”

“You just carry around thermoses of coffee?”

Taehyung laughs. “No. I don’t drink it, but I always make some in the morning and put it in a thermos in case today’s the day Yoongi decides to wake up before noon and join me.”

You eye the empty space next to him. “I’m guessing today’s not the day.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “After forcing him to wake up at 6am to do yoga the last few days? I might never see him again.”

“It’d be deserved, in his defense.”

Taehyung seems to think on this. Has a laugh just as airy as the gentle ocean wind, one that makes you feel like you’re the funniest person in the world. So much like Hoseok. You wonder if you’re like Yoongi. If you’re just as closed off but more talkative. You wonder if there’s a reason Yoongi holds his cards so close to his chest or if he simply sees no reason for anyone to know him. He’s got Taehyung and fifteen languages and a lifetime’s worth of stories, what more could he need? “You’re probably right. Where’s your other half?”

“Also asleep.”

“Wow,” Taehyung deadpans, “there are parallels everywhere.”

You don’t know him well enough to know how he means it. If it’s sardonic and taking the piss out of that sort of thing the way Yoongi would mean it, or if he’s genuine how Hoseok would be. So you just hum a maybe-agreement and stare out at the ocean.

Truth be told, you’re not sure why Taehyung was the one you wanted to find. He just seems like the type to know a lot about relationships, people. Seems like someone who’d meet and befriend more people in a day than you would in five years, so someone like that’s gotta have some sort of answers.

“How long have you and Yoongi been together?”

“Oh. A long time. I was nineteen when I went to Greece and Yoongi was twenty-one, but it was such bad timing, you know? Like, I was only two months into a year-long trip, and Yoongi has to be dragged into everything kicking and screaming, so we didn’t reconnect for over a year after we met.”

“That must’ve been hard.”

Taehyung smiles: small, tender, fond. “A little, yeah, but I think that sort of stuff is inconsequential in the long run. What’s a year’s worth of distance when you’ve got the rest of your lives?” He shifts on the blanket, a frown dragging down the corners of his mouth. “Although I went to Australia a month later and got bit by this huge fucking spider, so I guess the rest of my life was questionable for a while. In that case, yeah, it would’ve been really hard.”

You hum again, and in a need to fill the silence, Taehyung asks, “What about you and Hoseok?”

“What about us?”

“How long have you been together?”

We’re not, really, sits on the tip of your tongue. Jimin has already seen straight through the bullshit, so why not Taehyung, too? What’s the worst that can happen—they kick you out because you’re not a proper couple? What does that even mean? You’ve known Hoseok for twenty years. You watched him grow into a successful, kind, intelligent adult from a stupid-as-fuck eight-year-old. You’ve watched him fall in love and get his heart broken and piece it back together again. You know his takeout orders and his favorite color and the movies he still cries over but lies and says he doesn’t. You know the smell of his mother’s perfume when she squeals and hugs you like you’re her own. You’re one of two-hundred followers on Hoseok’s private Instagram account—the one you and Namjoon and Hoseok’s sister always join forces to bully him on when he tries posting a thirst trap.

You know what Hoseok looks like when he cries. You know what he’s like when he’s vulnerable and insecure and you know how to be a pillar for him when he’s like that, and he knows the same about you.

Some couples don’t have half of that, so what does it mean or even matter if your coupling is proper? Isn’t what you have enough?

You sigh. “We grew up together. I’ve known him for twenty years.”

“Oh.” Taehyung sucks in a breath. “I thought you’d said—”

“Yeah,” you interject. “We’re not, like, romantically involved.” Another sigh. “It’s a long story.”

Taehyung just smiles, looks at you with those butter-soft eyes, and you’re diving into twenty years of history and backstory. You tell him about punching the kid on the bus. You tell him about Hoseok’s first serious girlfriend in high school and how it made your stomach hurt—

(“Because you had a crush on him?”

“What? No.”

“Hm. Okay.”)

—and you tell him about your mother and all her misplaced pride. He laughs at every story you tell him about Namjoon and how you and Hoseok wound up at this weird wellness retreat. He stops laughing when you tell him that you and Hoseok haven’t spoken properly in days, and his eyebrows get very serious when you admit it’s the reason you came to find him.

“You just look like someone who might know how to help me fix it,” you finish.

Taehyung tries—and fails—to not look pleased as punch at this. “I’m generally very unhelpful. Well, Yoongi says I’m not-not helpful, but sometimes I try to help too much and wind up making things worse.” You shoot him a dubious look. “I won’t do that this time, though, I promise! Please consider me your official relationship fixer.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea anymore.”

“It probably isn’t, if I’m being totally honest, but if I can manage to make Min Yoongi fall in love with me, I’m extremely overconfident I can do just about anything.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

He claps his hands together. “Great! We can start with you apologizing and telling him you’ve been acting out due to temporary insanity on the basis of being in love with him for years and never saying anything.”

“Excuse me—”

“It’s best to be extremely honest about these sorts of things as to leave no room for misinterpretation or misunderstandings,” Taehyung says, tone condescending like you’re a child though it’s working overtime to not sound that way. At your slack jaw, Taehyung’s eyes grow wide. “Have you seriously never thought about it?”

“Me and Hoseok?”

Of course you’ve thought about it, it was just dismissed immediately each time. You love Hoseok; he’s the most important person in your life, and that’s exactly why you shooed those intrusive thoughts away every time they crept up. You’re not generally one to overthink on consequences, but Hoseok is always an idea you’ve treated with kiddie gloves. Something delicate. Something placed in an enclosure with 21mm glass walls and eighteen security alarms. So, sure, you’ve thought about it in the same way you’ve thought about winning the lottery or telling your PhD advisor to fuck off and moving to some remote island paradise where there’s always someone to wait on you hand and foot.

Of course you’ve thought about you and Hoseok, in the same way you think about all inevitable things (like the heat death of the universe) and also impossibilities, both wistful and staunch.

“Yeah,” you eventually answer. “Of course I have.”

Taehyung blinks owlishly. “I thought for sure you were gonna deny it.” Then the smile is back and it makes his eyes glitter like tiny stars. “But that’s great! The first step is admitting you have a problem, or whatever. Anyway! Do you still have feelings? Yoongi thinks I’m bad at reading people”—Yoongi is right, you think—“but I’ve seen the way he looks at me a million times, and sometimes that’s the same way Hoseok looks at you. So I think you should tell him.”

Snorting, you turn your gaze to the ocean. Even the water seems to still be sleepy at this hour, the waves small and gentle as they lap against the shore. “Maybe later on. Getting rejected a few days into a month-long trip doesn’t really sound like my idea of fun.”

Face scrunched up in disgust, Taehyung whines, “You wouldn’t! You’re gonna waste all this time because you think you’d get rejected when in actuality all you’re doing is wasting some really great glass walls to fuck against.”

You blanch. You can say, with one hundred percent conviction, that you’ve never thought about sleeping with Hoseok. Okay, so that’s not entirely true. There was the one time you had to defend him from Rose Emoji and Hammer and Sickle Twitter when they threatened to eat him and one person suggested sparing him because, excessive wealth aside, he had big dick energy. That’d given you pause. Did Hoseok have a big dick?

“No way,” you retort, “Hoseok is like a Ken doll. Completely smooth from the waist down. Dickless.”

Taehyung heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Another L for the gay community.”

Hoseok sleeps until noon.

You’ve already washed the sea salt from your hair and returned to the rental house with your own small haul of gift shop magnets by the time he stirs awake, groggy and looking worse for wear. “Wha’ time s’it?” he slurs, voice far too deep for you to remain unaffected.

“Just after twelve,” you answer. “I can make you some coffee if you want.”

All you get in response is a muffled groan, Hoseok’s dandelion bed-head disappearing under the fluffy duvet once again. You’ve known him long enough to know that means yes, to know he takes his coffee with far too much cream and sugar, the liquid something close to bone white by the time he’s done adding and mixing.

You set the mug on his nightstand and sit on the edge of the bed, leaning over to peel down the duvet and scratch at his scalp. “Coffee’s ready, sunshine.” Eyes still sealed shut, you move your fingers lower to tickle at his neck. “C’mon, Hobi, you’re pissing away another beautiful day in paradise.” You don’t bother telling him it’s overcast and drizzling; not like it matters, because Hoseok groans again and swats your hand away before shoving his head under his pillow.

He says something you can’t catch, words unintelligible beneath layers of down. “What’d you say?” you ask. When his head pops up, expression frustrated and cheeks flushed red, you poke the dimple in his left cheek. He has to fight off a smile.

“I asked why you’re being so nice to me.”

You frown. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”

Hoseok sighs. Adjusts until he’s sitting up, long, skinny legs tangled in the comforter. Something about his hands is so interesting he’s unable to focus on anything else. “Because I’ve been a dick to you.” When you move to protest, he tacks on, “And not just on this trip, either. For a while.” For a second, you think he might cry. Hoseok used to cry a lot as a kid—had too much empathy for such a small body to know what to do with so all the excess tended to leak out. “God, there was so much I didn’t know? Like your majors? And the yoga? I just…” He trails off, looks lost. Picks up the coffee mug just to do something with his hands. “It feels bad. It just feels really bad.”

You return his sigh, wishing Hoseok was a little less honest. Always the first to put himself out there, be vulnerable, and sometimes it’s nice and sometimes it makes you feel guilty. “It’s okay.”

“It isn’t,” he argues.

You hold up a hand. “I know where you’re coming from, and I get it. I would probably feel bad, too, if I were in your position.” He whimpers, earning a soft laugh from you. “But I’m telling you it’s okay. I don’t blame you, all right? I never have. I don’t lay in bed at night agonizing over it. This isn’t like that for me.”

“Then what’s it like?”

You hum, knowing this is a moment to handle with care. You can’t be reckless here. So you think it over, and you say, “It’s… I don’t think this happened because you don’t care, because I know you do. I know I’m your best friend in every way someone can be your best friend, and you’re my best friend in all the ways someone can be mine. It’s just that those two things look different, is what I’m saying. And I think that’s okay.”

“It’s unbalanced.”

You nod. “Yeah, maybe it is, but sometimes that happens. It hasn’t always been unbalanced.”

This seems to calm him, and his smile is slow, reluctant, but it’s there nonetheless. “Okay.” He exhales the weight of the world. “Okay. I’d still like to be better, though.”

“We have all the time in the world, Seok.”

You normally eat most of your meals with Taehyung and Yoongi anyway, but since your conversation on the beach, Taehyung attaches to you like a limpet.

The first time had been unnerving. He’d cornered you outside the dining hall, stomach rumbling even as he demanded to know everything, please spare nothing, no detail is too small. There hadn’t been much to report, just that the two of you had talked and things were better.

“Did you tell him you’re in lo—” had earned him an elbow to the ribs.

He hasn’t asked again.

But he’s still hard to shake during mealtime, especially breakfast, because he wakes up ready to talk, conversation locked and loaded on his tongue. Yoongi, of course, doesn’t talk at all, so he offloads onto you and Hoseok, who’s too good-natured to ask for some peace and quiet.

“Seokjin asked me last night if water was wet,” he says, spearing a long piece of pineapple on his fork. “Like, obviously it’s wet? It’s water.”

“It isn’t, though,” you argue. “Water is just water. Wet is a state—”

Taehyung, cheeks bulging around the fruit like a hamster, frowns. “Huh? No. California is a state.”

Yoongi faceplants onto the table.

“No, Tae.” You shake your head. “Like, a state of being. Water makes other things wet, but it’s not wet itself.”

His frown deepens. Looks to Yoongi for help, clarification, but he’s still face-down, so he looks to Hoseok instead. He, very steadfastly, says, “She’s weirdly smart, man. I dunno. I’m not arguing with her.”

“Why? Because you’re also—” Another elbow to the ribs. He coughs, makes a very valiant attempt to look cool, calm, and collected. “You’re also very smart, Hoseok,” he amends. “I am very interested in hearing what you have to say.”

“In business, though. I’m not really smart in science stuff.”

“Interesting,” Taehyung muses. “Would you say you’re smart in love?”

Hoseok is good-natured enough to look genuinely confused. “Huh?”

Yoongi finally picks his head up. Sends Taehyung some kind of look that must mean something to only the two of them, because Taehyung just sighs, put-upon, and shoves a piece of cantaloupe in his mouth. He doesn’t talk to Hoseok for the rest of the day.

Two weeks pass in a blur.

The schedule remains the same. Yoga, shared meals, weird quasi-therapy sessions which you have come to realize are just minor cult recruiting, bonfires on the beach. You and Hoseok stay up late talking and barely make it on time to whatever activity you have first thing in the morning. Jimin corners you at least once a week to talk about your “fucked up and frankly demonic” birth chart because he refuses to believe it’s real. Jungkook offers to teach the four of you how to surf but abandons that five minutes into the first session after Yoongi refuses to touch sand and Hoseok nearly passes out from seeing Jungkook shirtless.

…Which Taehyung catches, of course, because he just sidles up alongside you. Says, “Ooh, interesting,” again, in a really smug way, before intercepting Jungkook and leading him far, far away from the beach. You think he winks at you over his shoulder.

Bastard.

But it works, much to your surprise. Of course the two of you have talked it to death, but part of Hoseok’s bid to be better also seems to include being more tactile. Which… is nice, you’ll admit. Hoseok’s fingers are long and slender and perfectly manicured, his hands soft, so it feels nice when they play with your hair or scratch gently at your back or hold your hand, but it also fills you with an anxious kind of dread.

Uncertainty, maybe.

You know how these things work. Forced proximity, only one bed. You’re two-thirds of a psychologist, after all, so you wouldn’t be surprised if Hoseok is just caught up in the moment, at the relief of overcoming an obstacle and making it to the other side. (God knows the bender he’d gone on after graduating business school attests to that.)

Curiously, none of that stops you from leaning into it.

It doesn’t feel weird. It doesn’t feel awkward or strange or anything besides natural. Hoseok’s bare face is the last thing you see before you fall asleep and the first thing you know you’ll see when you wake up, and just having that certainty, that security, makes the early mornings bearable. It makes them something worth looking forward to. It makes all the tension in your body unwind. Makes you pliable, has you laughing freely and leaning into Hoseok’s side during all those meals Taehyung spends talking. Except he’s not talking so much anymore—now, he’s studying. Smiling. Sending little glances only you and Yoongi catch.

Everything comes to a head at another of Seokjin’s weird dinners.

“A question for your discussion,” he begins, and you swear you hear Yoongi groan under his breath. When you look over at him, he’s nonchalantly chewing his food, no indication at all that he made a sound for the first time in two and a half weeks, so you convince yourself you’re hallucinating. “If no one ever sneezed again, how long do you think it’d take you to notice?”

Yoongi must feel you looking this time, because he offers up a dead stare in return. While Taehyung and Hoseok debate their answers—

(“Well, I work in an office, so probably not long.”

“Ah. I work from home, but I think it’d be pretty obvious? Especially during allergy season.”

“Yeah, for sure. It’s one of those things you’d definitely notice. It’s like—you know when you’re cooking and finally turn off the vent hood and the quiet is a little disorienting? It’d be like that, I think. Like, you definitely—”

“You notice something’s absence more than you notice its presence.”

“Yeah! Yes, exactly.”)

—that dead stare of Yoongi’s morphs into something more mischievous, slow like molasses. He catches your eye, winks, and fakes a yawn.

Taehyung startles, like he forgot Yoongi had been sitting next to him the entire time. “Oh, you’ll have to excuse him,” he says, cheeks dusting pink. “Someone told him once he’d been a rock in a past life and it catches up with him every now and then.”

Seokjin lets out a high-pitched giggle, looking absolutely delighted at this. “A rock, huh? Fascinating. Please tell me all about it.”

“Well, I think a lot of people would assume igneous, but that’s always seemed a little shallow to me, you know? I think he’s more metamorphic—”

As Taehyung rambles on, Seokjin turns his attention to you and Hoseok. “What about you two? What do you think you were like in a past life?”

“He had to have been a monk or something,” you declare, poking the crater of one of Hoseok’s dimples. “He’s been hoarding good karma for centuries and cashed it all in for this lifetime.”

“Aish,” Hoseok replies, cheeks matching Taehyung’s as he scratches at the back of his neck. “I don’t know about all that. It’s just luck, isn’t it?”

You look at Hoseok. Really look at him—at the way his lips curl around his teeth as he tries not to laugh at the way Taehyung’s still going on about rocks; at the way he pouts and gags a little whenever he takes a sip of champagne; at the way the stars in his eyes turn to glitter when Seokjin gives him an opening to talk about his dog. You look at Hoseok and you think yeah, it could be luck, but it feels more monumental.

It feels predestined.

And you’re not sure what that means. Of course friendships can feel predestined; you’re not one to discount the importance of platonic relationships. You’re not sure what it means in the context of yours and Hoseok’s friendship. You’re not sure if your stomach hurt back when Hoseok got a girlfriend back in high school because it was predestined to be platonic.

You frown as you swirl the wine around your glass.

Truth be told, you’re not sure about much of anything right now.

“Hey,” Hoseok says, patting your thigh to get your attention. You’re in a dress. A nice one: silk, a slit up the side, drapes perfectly over the lines of your body and clings where it should. Does absolutely nothing to spare you from the heat of Hoseok’s skin through the fabric. “You okay?”

You’re fucked, is what you are.

“Yeah,” you reply, offering what you can only hope is a convincing smile. “Think I drank this a little too fast.”

“Do you want to go back to the house? We don’t have to stay. Taehyung’s still talking about the difference between limestone and sandstone, so I don’t think we’ll miss anything.”

You nod, dropping your voice to a hushed whisper. “Yeah, that might be a good idea. They look like they’re about ten seconds away from mixing up geography and geology and being really offended when I don’t know anything about rocks.”

The two of you stand, and Hoseok’s hand immediately moves to the small of your back. Warm, warm, warm, and you can’t convince yourself it’s the wine that’s making you lightheaded.

“Oh-ho-ho,” Taehyung chimes, looking pleased as punch at the sight of Hoseok’s hand at your back. Throws an elbow into Yoongi’s ribs. He doesn’t even flinch. “And where are the two of you going?”

“Uh, home?” Hoseok answers at the same time you say, “Fuck off, Taehyung,” because your face feels like it’s on fire and you’ve had enough of his ribbing.

Except, as it turns out, some amalgamation of home and fuck off sounds a whole lot like home, to fuck, and Taehyung might’ve been serious about the matchmaking thing, but even this kind of misunderstood forwardness has him choking on his sip of wine. Yoongi slaps at his back in the most patronizing way you’ve ever seen someone try to save another person from choking.

“Is he okay?” Hoseok asks, completely oblivious.

You shrug. “No. In so many ways.”

Through his choking, Taehyung manages a glare. “Takes one to know one,” he childishly responds, and you roll your eyes at the exact moment Seokjin grins and does a little wiggle, starts up a very enthusiastic fight, fight, fight! chant.

The thing is—Taehyung is drunk. You know he’s drunk, so him overriding Seokjin’s chant with one of his own—kiss, kiss, kiss!—certainly excuses and explains his behavior, it does absolutely nothingto extinguish the wildfire that’s sparked in your belly.

It’s a bad idea.

You and Hoseok have kissed before, when you were twelve and he was thirteen and he landed on you during a game of Spin the Bottle. Everyone around you had erupted into excited jeering, but the two of you shared a mortified look before he shuffled over on his hands and knees looking less like he was about to have his first kiss and more like he was being dragged to his death.

Looking back, that had been offensive, but he’d still puckered his lips and kissed the pout off your face all the same.

So it’s a bad idea, and you should tell Taehyung that the two of you have already kissed and to knock it off, because the second time you kiss shouldn’t only be to shut him up, but you’re both a little drunk in general and a lot drunk on the thought of redemption. If you pursed your lips the way he had fifteen years ago, leaned in close enough for him to smell your perfume, would he wear another mortified look? Or would he—

Fuck it, you think.

Because, once he realizes you’re serious, that you’re actually considering kissing him, the look he wears is not mortified. He looks a little awestruck—slightly dumb, if you’re being honest; definitely dazed—and it takes all that wildfire raging in your gut and unleashes it. Inspires just enough confidence to step closer, lean in; close enough to feel the warmth emanating from Hoseok’s skin, but still far enough for him to pull away if he wanted to.

Hoseok doesn’t want to.

And his hands are already at the small of your back, so it’s so easy to pull you closer. So easy to move them to your hips, grip a little tighter just in case you start to drift away. So easy to press his lips to yours and kiss the absolute life out of you.

You've kissed a lot of people over the span of fifteen years. None of them had lips as soft as Hoseok’s.

He must’ve done a lot of kissing, too, because the way he moves his mouth is sinful. Precise and confident, just a tease of his tongue. You can feel his smile against your lips and it nearly makes your knees buckle. Reminds you, more than the taste and smell of him, that it’s Hoseok you’re kissing, and the thought alone has you gripping at his dress shirt.

Any other time he’d complain about the wrinkles.

Not this one, though.

“Are you nervous?”

The question finds you halfway out of your dress. “Not really,” you answer. “I think my strap is stuck.”

A nervous laugh is punched out of him, but he moves to help you nonetheless. Gently touches your arm and spins you around, fingers ghosting along your skin as he untangles the strap and pushes it off your shoulder. The fabric pools on the floor, emerald and glittering, as you step out of it, and you laugh. It’s been three days since you and Hoseok kissed. The two of you have done a lot of kissing since then, and he’s still so hesitant; eyes still widen every time you lean in close, like he can’t believe it.

Hoseok is still so shy.

“Why would I be nervous?” you ask, because keeping him talking is the best way to keep him out of his head. “It’s you.”

He whimpers, like that’s the worst possible reasoning you could’ve given him. “Yeah, that’s exactly why I’m nervous.”

“It’s okay if you are,” you say, turning around to fully face him, and Hoseok looks struck. Torn between the way his nerves are eating him alive and the sight of you in just a pair of lacy panties. “We can do whatever you want, Seok.”

“I—no.” He swallows hard. “No, no, I think—we should definitely… you know.” You quirk an eyebrow. “My dick is fighting for its life right now.”

You dare a glimpse downward. Hoseok’s dick doesn’t look like it’s fighting for its life, outlined and half-hard in his expensive trousers, but what do you know? “Taehyung asked me about your dick once.”

“What.”

“Well, not exactly. He’d asked me if I ever thought about having sex with you—”

Hoseok whimpers again. “Please do not tell me what your answer was.”

“—and I told him you were like a Ken doll.” At his questioning look, you clarify, “You know. Dickless. Smooth from the waist down.”

“Wow. Why would you tell me that? Not gonna lie, it’s a little emasc—”

“I might need to see it. For science.”

Hoseok startles. “M-my dick?”

“Yeah. For science,” you repeat. “Taehyung is gonna be thrilled. He called your dicklessness, and I quote, an L for the gay community.”

Your best friend seems to ponder this. His hands hover uselessly in the air, and it’s ten seconds, twenty—you think he might call the whole thing off, but then he shrugs and undoes his belt, the metal clanky in his haste. “For the gays,” he explains as he pushes his pants down his thighs.

“Of course,” you agree, nodding seriously. “They deserve it.”

“What else did Taehyung say?”

“Nothing much. Just that we need to get our shit together because we’re wasting some really good windows to fuck against.”

Hoseok doesn’t fuck you against the windows the first time.

The first time is slow and unhurried. Because it’s Hoseok, he lights a candle and the two of you take your time touching, learning, shaking off the dregs of apprehension. He flushes crimson and nearly does a runner anytime something goes less than perfectly, and it’s so endearing you have to stop yourself from sinking through the mattress under the weight of all your affection.

The second time is all raw, desperate need. After a day of sly smiles reserved only for you, Hoseok meets you in the bathroom at the end of another night. There’s a spot of toothpaste on your sleep shirt that he disregards at the sight of your bare legs. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and then there’s only enough time for anticipation to start simmering beneath your skin before he’s moving.

(Technically, the third time is only a few hours later. Just like it has everyday since you arrived, your alarm goes off at six sharp, time for yoga, but instead of ushering you out of bed, Hoseok hits the snooze button and pulls you closer. Fits himself to your back and slides your panties to the side, speaks an is this okay? in his impossibly deep morning voice, and then you’re nodding your head and he’s pushing inside.)

Now, though—

Nerves have been shaken off. Another weird dinner has been sat through to which you’d worn a two-piece outfit, the top cropped just enough to show off a strip of skin—modest enough for the motley crew you share your evenings with, but apparently scandalous enough to drive Hoseok insane. He’s all barely-contained energy beside you, hand gripping your thigh, not paying a lick of attention to the conversation.

You lean over, speak the question just below his ear. “You okay?” Goosebumps erupt all over his skin.

“We need to leave right now.”

“Really? Why? You aren’t having a good time?”

Hoseok makes you pay for your smart mouth. Has you pressed against the expanse of windows in your bedroom, stripped down to just your underwear and the top he insisted you keep on, only your shoulders pressed against the glass. Presses wet, open-mouth kisses along your calves, the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and then he’s canting your hips forward to nip at you over your underwear. More silk and lace—thin enough to feel the warmth of his breath, then nothing but warmth when he licks a stripe up your folds, spit seeping through the fabric.

“Fuck.”

He does it once, twice more before he leans back, refuses to meet your gaze. Your brows furrow because your hands are tangled in his hair, tugging as you try to get him to look up at you, wanting to see the evidence of your arousal on his face, but then he’s smirking out of the side of his mouth, hands reaching for your underwear.

You register the cold air of the room on your skin before the sound of fabric ripping.

Then you’re saying, “What the fuck, Hobi, did you just—” and he’s laughing as he nods, not a care in the world except getting his mouth back on you. He licks and sucks until you’re nearly trembling with the need to come, begging him to let you, and you think if you were anyone else he’d drag it out longer. Make you beg a little more. But regardless of whatever he’s told himself over the years in order to cope, Hoseok can’t deny you anything, so he presses two fingers inside, right on the spot that whites out your vision.

He touches himself to the sight of your orgasm.

Rolls the condom on. Runs his cock through your folds, tells you to slick him up. As he presses inside again, crowding close, breath fogging the glass behind you, he tells you to thank Taehyung for the idea.

You’re gonna have to thank him for a whole lot more than that.

In hindsight, you should’ve known Namjoon was nothing more than a dirty little schemer.

There’s three days left of your stay, and the question had been nagging at you ever since you cut through the reception area to get to the meditation class you were running late for. Jimin, of course, gave you shit for it: wordlessly, because he was busy checking in a man with far too much luggage. A man who was checking in alone, and that was not a thing, so far as you were aware, so your curiosity was to be expected.

“Can I just ask,” you say, once again in Jimin’s strange little room behind the beaded curtain. “Why a couple’s retreat?”

“Huh?”

“Isn’t it less effective for Seokjin’s weird cult? Like, statistically speaking, you’ve got to be more likely to recruit single people, right?”

“Huh?”

You blink. “What part is confusing you? And don’t say the cult, because I had that pegged on, like, day three.”

“No,” Jimin agrees quickly, “Seokjin is definitely officiating a cult. I just—why do you think this is a couple’s retreat?”

“Uh, because Namjoon said it was? That’s why me and Hoseok are faking being a couple—”

“Were. Were faking.”

“—and it just sort of made sense, considering the people who showed up after us were literally a couple.”

Jimin sighs, schools his expression to the one he always uses when he has to be condescending and speak to you as if you’re a woefully stupid child. “I don’t know who Namjoon is, but I’m assuming he lied in order to get you two to do… exactly what you’ve done.”

“What.”

“This isn’t a couple’s retreat, buttercup, just a regular ol’ wellness one.”

“That Seokjin also uses as his cult recruitment headquarters.”

“Yep.”

“I feel betrayed.”

“Pisces usually do.”

“Excuse me—”

“You’re excused,” he dismisses, shooing you out of his closet.

Despite his innocent nature, Hoseok isn’t nearly as shocked as you to learn Namjoon deceived him.

That’s life, I guess, was all he’d said, the picture of comfort and nonchalance as he lounged in bed, wrapped in a fluffy robe, arm behind his head like a king. You had been shocked—no longer at the betrayal, but at Hoseok’s quick acceptance of it. Hoseok from a month ago would’ve been flustered and on the brink of a meltdown. Hoseok today just shrugs it off.

“I’m just saying.” He dangles a stem of grapes over his mouth like an asshole. “Jimin called it a wellness retreat, right? I didn’t get roped into Seokjin’s cult and we’re… well, whatever we are, so a win is a win. Seems like wellness to me.”

“Whatever we are,” you mimic, pitching Hoseok’s voice up a dozen octaves. “Wow, how romantic.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes, pats the spot next to him on the bed. “If you’d like to come over here, we can have the highly-anticipated ‘what are we’ discussion that no one in the history of human relationships has ever once dreaded having.”

You wave him off. “No need. It’s you, and I trust you, so I don’t think we’re going to go back home and you’re going to write this off as a weird forced proximity thing and ghost me.” You finish the application of your facemask, laughing to yourself at Hoseok’s offended scoff. “Besides, constantly having to defend you from Rose Emoji and Hammer and Sickle Twitter is the pinnacle of devotion and love. That’s the kinda shit that forms a trauma bond.”

“For my peace of mind, then.”

“Fine. Hoseok, I love you dearly as my best friend and I’m probably halfway in love with you as a romantic partner, and even though this vacation has been incredible and rewarding and you are very good at sex, I am also very much looking forward to having my own space again because you are almost impossible to live with.” You roll your lips at the sour expression marring his face. “That said: you still owe me dinner at the Brazilian spot near your office, so I would like it very much if you took me there as a date. You can tell Namjoon I’m your girlfriend if you wish.”

“And are you?”

“Ugh. Of course I am, Hobi. What do you take me for? You think I’m the kind of woman who agrees to spend a month in the rainforest and almost get roped into some sketchy cult with anyone who asks?”

“Well, I don’t know! Maybe!”

“You’re impossible. Do you want to be my boyfriend or not?”

At this, Hoseok’s face lights up so bright it puts the sun to shame. Smiles so big you can hardly believe it. “I would love nothing more.”

During your last group meal, Seokjin invites the new guy to join you.

Taehyung is enthralled immediately, gesturing for him to take the empty seat to his left. “Hello, nice to meet you! I’m Kim Taehyung and this is Min Yoongi. Are you here for the wellness retreat part or the cult part?”

Seokjin chokes on a slice of mango.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kim Taehyung. I’m Park Bogum,” the man responds. “I’m here for the cult part.”

Seokjin promptly stops choking.

Saying goodbye to this place, these people, is bittersweet.

The last four weeks have undoubtedly been the weirdest of your life, but they’ve more than made up for it with what you’ve been given in return: a blossoming relationship with Hoseok, Taehyung and Yoongi’s friendship. Even Jimin and Jungkook come to see you off, and Jimin surprises you by wrapping you in a tight hug, assuring you that you’ll still be his second-favorite Pisces long after you’re gone.

“Wow, rude. Who’s the first?”

“Yoongi.”

“Yoongi? How is he your favorite? He doesn’t talk!”

Jimin smirks, smug and patronizing. “Exactly. Have a safe trip, buttercup.”

Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t say much at all. You suspect he showed up only to look hot and catapult Hoseok into his final sexuality crisis, and that suspicion is confirmed when he leans against the wall and pushes his hair away from his forehead. The sound that comes out of Hoseok is part whimper, part pain and suffering, and truly catastrophic for his ego.

“Get it together,” you plead, but it falls on deaf ears. Hoseok is in a Jungkook-induced haze until you’re halfway to the airport, Taehyung chattering the entire way.

And then—

And then.

“Well, that was fucking weird, huh?” Yoongi asks.

Hoseok is running late.

He’s gotten better at equalizing his work-life balance since returning from your trip, but he still gets held up sometimes. A lot to catch up on, he’d said, and you can understand that. He’d spent his first week back doing nothing but haranguing Namjoon, so that surely ate up a lot of time.

Still, he’s never been quite this late.

The waitstaff are looking at you with concern. They used to look at you only to see if your water needed topping up, so this is an unfortunate development, especially for someone who looks as you currently do. Any person in this overpriced Brazilian steakhouse would be honored to even sit at the same table as you, let alone be able to call you their date, so Hoseok really has a lot of nerve.

You’re halfway to telling him as much over a very angry text message when he appears in front of you, face flushed, chest heaving, hairline dotted with sweat. “Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Got a little caught up.”

“No shit,” you whisper-yell, “that waiter over there looked like he was about ready to call the cops on me. I probably can’t even afford the water in this place.”

Hoseok grimaces. “In my defense, I have a very good reason.”

“Oh yeah?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest. “And what is that?”

Wordlessly, Hoseok hands over a garishly orange shopping bag emblazoned with a very familiar logo and brand name. Suddenly, it feels impossible to breathe. “You didn’t. Hobi, tell me you didn’t—”

“You know how much bullshit you have to go through for one of those things? God, I had to put in a request. Not to mention it was like fourteenseparate credit checks…”

You tune him out. Instead, you peek inside the bag with what you can only describe as pure dread. Not at the implication, because that has you thrumming with joy and affection, but at the cost of—

“You got me a Birkin.”

Hoseok looks at you like you’ve sprouted a second head. “Um. That’s what you said you wanted, right?”

“You said you weren’t spending that much money on anyone who isn’t your future spouse.”

The look doesn’t budge. “Yeah? I’m clearly not following.”

“When did you put in the request?” If your voice is audibly waterlogged, Hoseok doesn’t mention it, but you can feel the tears pooling at your lash line nonetheless.

The confusion finally clears and gives way to another brilliant smile. A little bashful, too, because he hides behind the menu and refuses to look at you. Says something you don’t catch, can’t hear over the dim chatter of this restaurant, and he groans in pleased faux-annoyance when you tell him to repeat himself.

“I said… I put it in the night you kissed me.”

It feels like you’ve been punched in the chest. “You’ve known that long?”

And Hoseok—Hoseok ducks behind the menu again, but this time you can hear him loud and clear: “I’ve known a lot longer than that.”

author's note pt. 2: if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! i really hope you enjoyed this. as always, any reblogs are greatly appreciated and my inbox is always open for feedback. ♡

[sir-gio22]

WHO'S BENNY? -Ben Shelton

prompt: you were scrolling on tiktok when you saw a video of a girl flirting with your boyfriend

Warnings: none? A bit of teasing and dirty talk (not too dirty)

Credits: @b0r3dtod3ath I got really inspired by their fic about a fan calling Ben 'benny' so I wrote this

you have been dating Ben for about a year now, he’s a good boyfriend, kind, sweet, charming, clingy, hot, and the list goes on for at least a whole tennis court…

you aren’t someone who gets jealous easily, and Ben is a loyal partner, he would never imagine going with someone else, who would be saying all the things they want to do to him every time they see him shirtless and sweaty and make him embarrassed trying not to get too excited if not you?

just kidding (maybe not) he loves you so much he would be desperate without you.

after a long day, you finally find some peace, sitting on the king-size bed you and your boyfriend shares in your hotel room and scrolling on TikTok, you look at your FYP, some funny videos pops up, you look at the time, 9pm, ben is still training and you haven’t had dinner yet, you miss him a lot since you didn’t have the chance to see him today.

searching his name on TikTok, some really good edits pops up as the first videos, after his profile of course. you already follow all of the accounts (not with your main, verified, account tho, that’d be risky, so you created a fake fan of Ben account to get freaky drooling with the editors), macaaroonss, mag1.c, sheltixx, clouislxve, and dialedins (with her very bold captions that would send her to jail if you or Ben’d sue her, but you don’t because you, obviously, relate to them).

you like all their new posts, then, scrolling a bit more, a new video of Ben pops up, it was from yesterday, after his training, he was leaving the courts and a bunch of fans asked for photos and autographs. he was happy to do it, of course, he loves his fans, but, while taking the photo, one hugged his arm, and it looked like she was clinging onto him for dear life, as the video continues, the girl keeps trying to ger Bens attention even when he’s talking to other fans.

that angered you, you felt…jealous?

looking at your boyfriend getting hugged and talking to other people usually didn’t bother you, but this time was different, the girl wasn’t just ‘talking’ to him, she was flirting!

the videos show her touching Ben’s bicep, squeezing it, and he looked uncomfortable, but she kept smiling ans said:

“hey Benny! I really like how you play…I’m getting really into tennis because of you…would you be up to some private coaching with me?”

her voice was filled with lust, her tone was flirty, and her lips curled up in a smile filled with hope. it was clear that she wasn’t someone who ever got a ‘no’ as an answer and she wasn’t expecting one now.

she gets even closer to Ben, eager to know the answer.

you were eager to know it too, the tension building up in your body, your heart aching. you trust Ben, you two were in love after all…would he really cheat on you? the girl was pretty, you had to say that, but he was yours and yours only. you felt…possesive, for the first time during your relationship, scared he’d choose someone else over you.

and he says:

“i’m sorry. who’s Benny? never heard of him. but if you want a coach i know a good one who is now teaching in the next court” and heads out of the courts.

a sigh of relief escaped your lips and your head, which you didn’t realized you lifted with eagerness, plops on the soft pillow. you stay like that for a few seconds, enjoying the new feeling of relief that got in your heart.

then you save the video, to watch in case you ever feel insecure and think Ben would choose some pretty person over you.

you decided to take a break from your watching session and lay on the bed in a starfish position, taking all the space, you throw your phone at the end of the bed, hoping it won’t fall, and think about how your life has been much better since you met Ben.

how you met, how he helped you when you needed money, or a shoulder to cry on, how lovely he is even when you’re mad at him, how he treats you like royality, how…perfect he is.

your eyelids felt heavy, you slowly fall in a sleep you needed all day, dreaming of Ben winning the US open, hitting one last winner on the championship point, falling on the ground, racket slipping off his hand and on the humid court, eyes watery, he jumps up to shake his opponents and the umpire’s hand, then he screams and do the ‘phone celebration’, or maybe a new special one he kept for this victory. the he sports you in his box, he runt to you, cups your face in his big, sweaty, hands and kiss you. a passionate kiss, you can feel all his happiness by how his liès are moving. he’s holding back, you know you’ll be getting a needy and cocky Ben tonight.

you wake up, even if you did’t want because it was a beautiful dream, by a weight pressed on your body and two strong arms hugging your waist.

“mhhh hey babe, I’m back” Ben mumbles, his face pressed against your neck, pressing light kisses under your jawline.

“hey, how was practice?” you say in a sleepy voice, your mind still half-asleep.

“ugh…tiring, like always, i really think my dad and physical trainer wants to kill me this week” he complains

“you say that every time you train on clay Ben, they just have to make you run a lot because the ball bounces lower, you know that”

“ugh I know…”

he keeps giving little pecks to your neck and mumbling some ‘i love you’ and other incomprensible words.

“Ben?” you seek his attention

“mh? what is it, babe?”

“why don’t you let other people call you Benny?”

“what do you mean? it has always been my nickname” he lifts his head, confused

“you didn’t see the video?”

“what video?”

“I’ll show you, give me my phone”

he lifts his body and take your phone from the end of the bed and hands it to you, you open tiktok and go to your saved videos, tapping on the right one.

he looks at it, recalling the moment in his mind, a small smile forming on his face and he looks at you.

“of course I didn’t let her call me that, she was flirting, love, she isn’t a friend, I don’t want people I don’t know calling me how the people I care about do. and she was hanging onto me like she was my girl, but nah…i already have the most beautiful partner, don’t need anyone else”

an ‘awww’ escapes your lips and you look in his eyes, feeling the admiration and love he has for you.

“and she asked for private coaching, the only person I’d give that to is you, love. what do you think? i could book a court…only for us…we can play a bit…then what happens happens” he says in a flirty tone

“Ben!” you scold him, this is not the right moment to flirt

“sorry, babe, but you know i can’t hold myself when i see you all painting and sweaty when we play” he nips at your neck

“i know, i know…i learned my lesson the last time, but i don’t wanna talk about it now, my legs are still sore”

“cmon, love, i didn’t go that hard”

“try being in my position next time, then we can talk about it”

he chuckles and kiss you passionately, not a lust kiss, one filled with love, a clingy one.

“Benny…” you aren’t calling him or scolding him, just saying his name, recalling the video.

“your Benny, love”

[kyojurismo]

Emergency request

So my appendix burst?? Which like I didn’t know that was a thing thing but I could use some spice because like smut heals?? Or maybe I’m insane who knows

How would genya (aged up) and sanemi be at dirty talk?

I just know those boys be kings

▸ ANSWERING. omg i’m so sorry 😭 i thought i already posted it but in fact i didn’t ): i hope you’ll get well soon anon 🫂

▸ FANDOM. kimetsu no yaiba

▸ CHARACTERS. sanemi & genya shinazugawa x fem!reader

▸ RATING. nsfw

▸ WARNINGS. aged up genya, dirty talk, implied penetrative sex, i wrote it for a fem reader btw i hope that’s alright, not proofread

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA

sanemi knows how his voice turns you on. he uses it at his advantage of course.

“look at how wet you are,” he smirks. his thick fingers keep caressing your slit, spreading your wetness around. “what a messy girl you are.”

sanemi uses his thumb and point finger to stimulate your clit, moving them in rapid motions. your juices keep gushing out of your clenching hole and he knows that most of it comes from the way he’s talking to you.

“n-nemi,” you cry out, lifting your hips from the futon. “where you think you’re going?” he pushes you down with his free hand. “you gonna make a mess? yes, baby?” he coos at you, noticing how you’re desperately gripping the sheets.

you in fact make a mess, cumming hard in his hand. sanemi keeps moving his hand tho, making you grind on it. you want him to stop and keep going at the same time, it’s addictive.

“you like that, don’t you? fuck— you’re so beautiful like that.”

when he finally sinks into you and bottom out, his head kissing your cervix, he presses his forehead into yours. “oh shit, you’re taking me so well baby. that pussy was made for me.”

he’s almost there? well, “fuck baby, you really want me to fill you up if you’re squeezing me like that.”

GENYA SHINAZUGAWA

genya slurs a lot during sex. but damn if it’s hot as fuck.

“fuckfuckfuck— you take it so well, baby,” he grunts into your neck, gripping your hips while he thrusts deep into you. “you hear that? shit, you’re making a mess all over me,” he can hear the wet smacks becoming louder and your whines are more and more frequent.

genya’s cock is probably rearranging your insides because you’re seeing stars, on the verge of passing out.

“you’re so fucking good for me, baby. so fucking good.”

“that’s it, take it. take it like a good girl— fuck.”

“you close darling? oh yes you are, look at the way you’re gushing.” the fact that he can pleasure you that much spurs him on, really.

your puffy clit grinds against his pubic bone while his cock keeps moving rapidly into you and one of his hands is groping your breast, making you cry out his name.

genya grunts while filling your womb with his semen, you follow soon after, arching your back off the futon. “you did so good baby,” he kisses your neck before reaching your lips.

“gonna give me a fourth one, yeah?” he smirks down at you.

insatiable.

▸ BEFORE LEAVING. reblog and comments are super appreciated. i can’t add the read more button into this, i’m sorry. anyway i hope you guys enjoyed it <3 have a good day / night !!

[pinkyjulien]

It's been rotating in my head all morning and since I have to wait a few hours to get my day started, might as well throw my two cents in a proper post

We really should talk about Kerry Eurodyne

Now before you run off, I think it's important to point something out; As a fandom veteran who been here since early 2021, I think others will agree when I say that the discourse surrounding Kerry has always been a hot topic that comes back around every few weeks- but why does it keep coming back?

I'm well placed to know that ignoring a problem and not talking about it publicly doesn't solve anything; everyone is quick to throw assumption and accusations, to make "callout" post, to blow things out of proportions, to take someones's squick as personal attack, and the mob mentality does the rest; everyone follow whoever is going to be the loudest about an ongoing "fandom drama"

This isn't an attempt to show anyone that they're "wrong" or "right"; there is no right or wrong in this recurring discourse. This post is an attempt at opening an healthy and mature conversation! I come in peace gfhgfh

Prefacing this by saying that I'm not a Kerry fan, and I'm not bisexual. So why the hell do I care? Well to be frank, I don't particularly care, I have my own opinions on the character, but I do care (to an extent) about this "community" and I hate seeing what happened to me happen to others, especially new commers who never meant anything wrong. Nobody deserves to be bullied out of a fandom for sharing their opinions on their own blog/space!

Alright this intro was long but let's get on it- buckle up cause this is going to be a looooot of rambling

━

Through the years/months, I've noticed something rather sad; this isn't a debate between bisexual people vs biphobic people, as a lot of people might think and assume; this has always been queer people sharing, sometimes in a really awkward and hurtful way, their interpretation of a character (don't block me yet, please hear me out)

Those who know me knows that I personally care a lot about the canon and writers's visions, so first I want to share some posts about Kerry made by his literal "parents"

Mateusz Tomaszkiewicz, Narrative Designer at CDPR, shared informations on the different romance interest back in December 2020, on the game's release day

When asked about a MLM relationship option, here what he states:

(don't leave just yet)

On a now-deleted comment, RTalsorianGames, original creator of the Cyberpunk tabletop game and by definition original creator of Kerry Eurodyne, stated the following:

Please note that CDPR did in fact consult with Mike himself about Kerry being a MLM exclusive romance!

(Also this isn't a debate about if Kerry cares about V or not, let's not derail this conversation, remember that everyone is allowed to interpret a character and a relationship as they wish)

I wanted to share these tweets to point something really important; there is no "right" or "wrong" label for Kerry, and it all boils down to interpretation < key word

Kerry have multiple states; we HAVE to remember Kerry exist in some kind of cyberpunk multiverse!

We have his 2020 and 2023 self that are confirmed to be bisexual; this is the Kerry Mike and RTalsorian created, the Kerry they have full control and say over; the same young Kerry we see in Johnny's flashback

And then comes his 2077 self, which we see confirmed above as labeled as Homosexual (which again as been approved by Mike himself)

I personally think it's important to start with what his different creators have to say; Kerry is both Mike's and CDPR's character; Kerry is both labeled as being Bisexual and Homosexual

There is a lot of reasons why this change / evolution was made, even tho we all know the main reason; they needed a MLM romance in the game to complete the LI roster. But why take an already established character, a Bi character even, for the Gay romance?

I've seen a lot of people saying that CDPR erased his bisexuality, I understand why it might feel like this, but I don't think it's true or fair! Again, remember that Mike gave his OK for this; he could've at any moment said no, Kerry is HIS baby first and foremost

In game, we learn about Kerry's ex wife and kids; this is something CDPR could've not included at all (and THIS would've been erasing his bisexuality imo) it's not even something that is said out loud, but something to be found by dedicated fans; it's here on purpose, to give depth to the character and to his personal life!

We also see a couple of feminine clothes around his villa; let's not assume anything here, clothes have no genders especially in the 2077 setting, but it can also well point at one-night stand with women and/or multi-gender orgies for example

But, this won't be anything new or controversial, Kerry pushes femV advances in game- this is simply a fact! Like it or not, that's how CDPR's writers, RTAL and Mike decided to evolve Kerry's character for the game; everyone was ok with this

━

Now comes the root of the debate; Is it homophobic to mod Kerry to be romanceable by a femV? and is it biphobic to not be comfortable with this?

No, and no - (don't leave just yet, please read a bit more)

Remember that I'm "just" a gay man, I've had discussion with friends of all gender and orientation about this topic and it's been enlightning to hear the different opinions on the matter!

As previously mentioned, it all boils down to Interpretation.

The discourse recently came back because someone shared their uncomfortableness regarding mods that change Kerry's preferences; in the post tags, OP made sure to say that everyone was free to do anything, to ship anything, and that this was just their opinion; but obviously the fandom didn't read that part and started to throw accusation around, and here we are (I shouldn't have to remind people that we all are free to share whatever on our respective blogs, if it hurts you just block the person, don't jump them)

OP is a Bisexual Man; a lot of other Bisexual Men related to this post and rebloged it, sharing their thoughts in the tags (I also rebloged it, I know it caused a few people to back off and block me as a result, which I respect totally)

Going to pick up my questions back up to hopefully state my opinions and "analyses" of the situation as clear as possible

Is it homophobic to mod Kerry to be romanceable by a femV?

No, it's not

Kerry is bisexual, he was married to a women, and potentially still have sex with women and fem individuals, these infos are all canon in game.

Kerry pushes femV flirts away; but since he experience attraction to women, who is to say that in someone's own canon, their fem OC isn't a V, and doesn't have Johnny involved, changing how Kerry and their OC meet drastically; Kerry could fall in love with her! He could; he's bisexual after all.

Is it biphobic to not be comfortable with this?

No, it's not

Kerry has a clear preference for men; CDPR choose to show this multiple time in the game, during Johnny's flashback we can see him make out with a masc fan, we can see him being vulnerable with Johnny (imo, his lil crush is showing hard)

I personally haven't seen it/heard it in game, but I've been told that after learning about Kerry's ex-wife, Johnny has a vocal, surprised reaction, has if imagining Kerry with a woman is strange to him

However, there is a lot of biphobic things being said in the discourse, and not in the way you might think of

I thankfully never see the full extent of it; I don't see the obviously biphobic takes, stating that Kerry SHOULD NEVER be with a femV, people being nasty and ATTACKING femV/Kerry shippers; this is never ok, these have been blocked for a long time now

But I sadly see the other takes, which always icked me a bit; the takes that say, "you bisexuality isn't worth of respect if it isn't a 50/50 attraction at all time", takes that are sadly biphobic in nature (making it clear that I'm not pointing finger at anyone, nor am I accusing anyone of being biphobic)

This is what it boils down to, I think, this is the root of the problem

As mentioned before, a lot of Bisexual Men expressed their uncomfort when it comes to femV/Kerry mods; it invalidated Kerry's preference. But this isn't about Kerry, he's fictional, he CANT be hurt by anything, by mods or art or whatever; It invalidate Bisexual Men that share the same preference in Men, Bisexual men that related to Kerry for X or Y.

Bisexuality is a spectrum, queer people has been fighting against Bi erasure for years, but also against Bi stereotypes; and I think this is one of them? (Please correct me if I'm wrong)

Bisexuality isn't a strict 50/50 split preference- it can be! But 60/40, 20/80 and even 99/1 attractions are still Bisexual attractions. I've met a lot of queer people who, despite being bisexual by definition, choose not to label as such (prefering to label as straight or gay depending on their preferences) just because of this "bisexual police" imposing a strict 50/50; "How can you be bisexual, you've only dated men/women" etc

This is what is being imposed in the fandom, this is how it might looks like to people; when you attack a Bisexual Man sharing his uncomfort in seeing people not respecting a Bisexual character's preference, you're telling them "Hey, your bisexuality isn't valid if you have a preference". You're telling them "Your bisexuality isn't correct". You're showing them that you "fixed" a "flawed" bisexual character "that got erased as gay for having a preference" by "modding his bisexuality back"

Kerry being written as MLM exclusive in Cyberpunk 2077 isn't bi erasure; he's still Bisexual, he simply has a strong preference for Men. A preference that he always had, but that can also be amplified after his divorce with his ex wife, for multiple reasons; I also don't have to point out how many queer people in real life explored their homosexuality after being in a hetero-marriage for most of their lives! And that's ok, queer love is an ever evolving spectrum, and I think it's awesome we get more fleshed out characters that explore this in depth

I've seen people compare Kerry to Johnny, and I don't think it's fair; for the simple reason that Kerry is a romance option and Johnny is not.

Johnny express a clear preference for women; however he replies to V (and flirt, in some case) the same way regardless of gender! Kerry on the other end, as previously said, pushed femV's advanced away. Something Johnny can't do since he's not a romance option; tho if he was, and if he was pushing mascV advances away, it would be the exact same situation and same problematic!

Another character that is canonly bisexual is Goro; he replies to V's flirt through text messages the exact same way, he doesn't seem to express any preferences (and no, his "obligation in japan" isn't necessarily a wife, this is heteronormative and another problem all together, not the subject here)

People can express being uncomfortable seeing Johnny with a given gender, or Goro with a given gender; but there isn't any """reason""" to it outside of personal preferences

Kerry situation is problematic because it lies in his clearly, canonly stated preference, how people decide to interpret it, and how it can come off to other queer people who might share sexuality and/or preference with the character

━

Everyone is free to ship whoever however they want

But please; remember that everyone is different. People being uncomfortable with a character bisexuality preference being ""fixed"" shouldn't be too surprising; and if it is, please re-read my post/ You have to be ok with this fact, it's OK to make content that might be uncomfortable for others; this is fiction!

There isn't any Right or Wrong way to be bisexual, to be queer Kerry's bisexuality is perfectly fine; unmodded or modded Everyone is Different; Every Queer experiences is different People relate to characters in different way

Nobody is being misoginist; there isn't any double standard at play

Bisexual people sharing their opinions on their own blogs on how a fandom handle a character's bisexuality isn't biphobic, or an attack to anyone who interpret the character differently!

I promise you nobody is attacking anyone, and a lot of things being said accidently comes off as biphobic on both sides of this eternal "debate"

It all comes down to respecting others interpretations, and agreeing to disagree! Tumblr's filtering system work great, you can easily filter and block tags, or even people if needed

I might've said things awkwardly, and for this I apologise; but don't put words I didn't say into my mouth! If you don't agree, that's fine, and you're more than welcome to filter/block me if needed; but please do not paint me as biphobic or misoginist, same goes to everyone who shared their thoughts on the matter, these are serious accusation and can wrongfully hurt a lot of people

Ship and let Ship, take care of yourselves and remember to curate your space 🙏

[gilmore-angel]

Aemond Targaryen NSFW alphabet

summary ♱ what aemond likes in bed.

warnings/contains ♱ fem!reader, smut, mentions of kinks, mentions of his first time.

note ♱ okay I realize I imagine aemond a lot more soft and a lot less kinky than most people lol. I hope you like this regardless!!

important ♱ if you like this fic please reblog! it is at the end of the day the only way to truly help out tumblr writers. likes are appreciated, but this app runs on reblogs<3

boundaries ♱ as I have stated many times, I AM A MINOR. I am fully comfortable with adults following me and reading, liking and reblogging my posts, but if your account is 18+ only (as in only adults can interact with you) you should not be on my blog. respect your own boundaries by checking peoples bios/navigations before reading.

navigation ♱ library account @baysfics ♱

A - Alone time (how do they get off when they’re all by themselves? do they watch porn, is it all in their imagination, do they jerk off, do they use toys?) 

before he became betrothed to you, he rarely ever even thought of touching himself. he viewed sex as a duty, and didn't understand why anyone would want to do it besides having heirs.

once he met you tho???? baby boy definitely had some thoughts👀. he still rarely did it, but he would be lying if he said his mind and hands didn't wonder once or twice or like ten times

once he's married however he goes back to barely doing it cause he has you♡

B - Bondage (do they like it? do they not? do they prefer to be the one being tied or the one doing the tying?) 

at first I think sex with aemond would be very vanilla, good, but vanilla.

as time goes on however aemonds kinky side definitely comes through. I think he would prefer to tie you up. it would take a long long time until he felt comfortable enough to give up the control to be tied up.

C - Crying (is it a turn on? a turn off? do they cry during sex? have they cried during sex? what was the reason?) 

crying out of pain? absolutely not. crying out of so much pleasure? absolutely yes.

just the idea of you crying out because he's making you feel that good is enough to make him cum in his trousers.

D - Dominance (do they prefer to dominate, or be dominated? do they have experience as a Dom? Do they have a Dom that they trust already? What kind of things do they enjoy as/with their Dominant partner?) 

okay so I'm very conflicted about this. on one hand dom aemond makes me so 😵‍💫 but sub aemond makes me 😵‍💫

I think though he's a switch with a heavy dom lean. I think he's most comfortable with being a dom due to his past, the idea of not being in control is really intimidating.

I think he's a soft!strict!dom and a shy!obedient!sub 🤭

E - Extra info (any other fetishes? feet? leather? role playing? blood? fantasies that they might want to experience not on this list?)

okay DEFINITELY overstimulation r u kidding me!!! man loves to have you shaking and crying out of pleasure. also thigh riding!!!!!!!

F - Food play (do they like using food in the bedroom? are there any foods they prefer to use during sex or foreplay? any they’d like to try?)

I honestly can't imagine him wanting food to be in the bedroom, but I think seeing you eat certain things would turn him on.

like if you're eating a strawberry and the juice runs down your chin???? oh he is blushing and making excuses for you two to go somewhere private....

G - Group sex (would they have a threeway? four? an orgy? do they put on a show for spectators? or do they like to keep it just between them and their partner?) 

absolutely not my baby is possessive!!

he likes to be the only one to ever see his wife in such a way.

H - Humiliation (does degradation and insults get them hot? do they get off on humiliating someone else? what kind of humiliation is good for them?) 

I don't think he likes it at all :(

due to his first time being not good, he's very nervous about feeling or making you feel how he did. he's still healing and needs sex to be more loving than humiliating.

I - Impact play (here’s where talking about things like spanking, paddles, canes, floggers and the like.) 

would be VERY hesitant to do anything close to spanking. he hates hurting you and is terrified of scaring you. the best you'll get is a few light spanks when he's hitting it from the back

J - Jelly (what kind of lube are they using? is it flavored? have they tasted it? do they prefer to use something other than real lube during sex?) 

all natural baby!

K - Kissing (what parts of their body do they like having kissed? what parts of their partner do they enjoy kissing? do they like leaving marks / having marks left on them?) 

lips obvi. on him I think his neck, hands, scar, and thighs!

on you literally everything. legs, belly, tits, neck, hands, face!!! he wants to kiss and touch and feel all of you

L - Lighting (are the lights on? off? do they have some kind of mood lighting set up?) 

prefers dim lighting but not completely dark bc baby boy wants to see you!!

either a few candles or moonlight<3

M - Masochism (do they like pain? scratching? biting? being bossed around? spoken down to? choked?) 

the only kind of pain he's into is having you scratch his back and biting. other than that no

N - Not yet (orgasm delay? orgasm denial? do they tell their partner not to touch themselves for a certain amount of time or under certain circumstances? do they delay or deny other things like bathroom usage or food? do they need to beg first? do they like being denied / delayed?)

doesn't like not letting you cum but (secretly) loves being edged!

he will whine and pout and moan when you deny him but can't help but love the feeling

O - Outdoor sex (have they ever done it in public? would they? where?)

the closest thing you'll get to public is having sex in a random closet or something like that. again he likes his privacy so full on public is a no

P - Photography (are cameras allowed in the bedroom? do they send nudes? do they ask for nudes? would they ever record themselves having sex / being caught up in a sexual act?) 

.... they don't have cameras so no...

Q - Quiet please (what’s the volume like in the bedroom? are they quiet? do they scream? do they like a loud partner? do they prefer if their partner is more soft spoken?)

at first he was extremely quiet. like only makes soft grunts.

once you've been having sex for a while he gets more vocal. he moans softly, groans, whimpers, all that jazz.

he LOVES having a vocal partner. he's so unsure of himself sexually and likes knowing he's making you feel good

R - Routine (do they have a routine when it comes to picking up one night stands? do they have scheduled sex with their partner? are things spontaneous or planned ahead of time?) 

spontaneous for sure! this man is unpredictable to others and himself. he randomly gets horny and need you :(

plus with the pressure of having heirs, sex would probably be a every day thing

S - Sleepy sex (do they give oral to wake their partner up? do they like receiving oral to wake up? do they like fucking their partner awake? being fucked awake? how about being fucked to sleep at night? do they have lazy morning sex?)

oh em gee does this man love cozy, sleepy, soft sex!!!!!!!!

he loves to wake his partner up by being between their thighs. he loves lazy kisses and sloppy sex<3

it would take a long time before he would be okay with being fucked in his sleep, but he would try it out for sure!!

T - Top or bottom (self explanatory…) 

top most of the time, only when he's truly fully comfortable will he be on the bottom

U - Underwear (what kind of underwear do they put on in the morning, if any at all… do they own any sexy underwear or lingerie?) 

just normal boxers for this boy!! but he loves seeing his wife in pretty and revealing nightgowns and small clothes.

V - Voyeurism (do they like to watch, or are they more hands on? are they more of an exhibitionist?) 

hands on kind of man. you're his and he wants to be the one making you feel good >:(

W - Water (pool sex? bath / shower sex? are they into watersports at all?)

bath sex would be a regular thing me thinks. he loves after a long stressful day to relax in the warm water with his wife! only after his long haircare tho...

X - X-dressing (do they crossdress as a part of teasing / foreplay? does crossdressing turn them on? turn their partner on? do they prefer to do it or watch their partner crossdress instead? do they use other costumes? cat ears, tails, etc?) 

again given the hotd universe crossdressing wouldn't be a normal thing so no

but he would look very pretty in a skirt<3

Y - Yes, Master (what kinds of names are used during sex? do they like being called master / mistress, daddy, etc…? what names do they call their partner?) 

being called: aemond, husband, my dragon, king.

calling: (your name), wife, grevie, my ember, good girl, sweet girl.

Z - Zones (what are their erogenous zones? what spots on their body should be touched, bitten, kissed, when someone wants to get them in the mood?) 

his neck, hands, and thighs being touched turn this boy into a slut!!!!

sucking slowly on his fingers, kissing and biting his neck, drawing patterns with your fingers on his thighs, all make him loose his mind!!

[vampziry]

hot take about the void and loa because i saw someone doing this and i got the 💐urge💐

- i literally hate how we, as a community, ended up relying on complicated ways and methods to tap into the void when the basics of it are enough and way easier than most of the methods out there and im not even kidding. limiting beliefs have made such a blockage in people’s minds nowadays that they refuse to stick around with the basics and choose to overcomplicate their journey following methods for days when they can literally lay down and affirm for some minutes and thats it… bruh.

- thinking too much. yeah, its okay to think but bro you already know what loa is about. just live in the wish fulfilled and ur desire wont even take more than 3 days to be where u want it to be. why are u worrying bc u dont have that phone u always wanted? bitch u just bought it??? ur HOLDING IT. why u worrying about that car? u literally saw it parked in ur yard ohmygod.

- people relying on bloggers. big nuh uh for me, ofc we are meant to help y’all but you cant just sit down all day and expect them to do shit for u. every person has their separate journey and manifestation paths so get ur shit together and work on ur damn self.

- people doubting other people’s results just bc they still dont have theirs. bro im so done with people doubting success stories when they never manifested shit before and they come and say: oh they lied. yeah and u call urself a blogger and do the same shit and then u get exposed and deactivate, so funny.

- lies. YES I HAD TO MENTION THIS. if youre gonna drop a whole mfkin post talking about a beautiful success story PLEASE CLARIFY IF YOURE TALKING ABOUT UR REAL EXPERIENCE OR JUST HELPING URSELF GET INTO THE WISH FULFILLED STATE. ive seen a lot of success stories that ended up being fake js because the person wanted to convince their subconscious. convince ur subconscious of what?? bro.

- anons being rude. THERES NO FUCKING NEED TO BE RUDE AND FLOOD BLOGGERS ASKS WITH MONKEY BEHAVIOR MESSAGES. nah yall getting too far with this shit. if you cant get shit because you suck and ur routine and journey suck as well even tho u were seeking help AND HELP WAS GIVEN TO U AND U DIDNT DO A THING ABOUT IT, dont blame others for your own failure.

[givethemsmut]

Dom Mysterio x Reader

Thank you so much for the love I’ve gotten on this so far. I truly just write for myself so it’s nice to feel validated 🙌🏻

Smut

Friends to Lovers

Angst

I don’t own WWE characters, it’s all for fun

Not edited

Chapter Three | Where it all started…

3 Years Later…

Dom had made it to the big leagues, main events and Monday Night Raw. I couldn’t have been more proud of him until his story line turned my stomach into knots.

His new “Dirty Dom” heel turn had come with a new accessory named Rhea Riley. 

Not even storyline turns into the reality of dating but let’s be real: most of their time was going to be spent together with virtually no time at home. I was stupid enough to think she didn’t want him by the way she gleamed at him.

Every part of me was jealous when he called her Mami and the next day all his merch said it again for the encore. Their tension felt real but I wasn’t sure how much of it I had glorified.

I was visiting Dom for a few days, sharing hotel rooms and going to his live events even though it hurt. That was when I met Randy again, only this time he was divorced and single.

It was a welcomed distraction from every social post and monologue being about his new on screen fling. WWE had been laying it on thick and I had no idea why it was bleeding into their personal lives unlike any other time.

Dom even got scolded for posting a silly photo of us because it ruined the facade. 

I kept it from Dom the whole time I was there visiting because I hurt him enough for a life time. I deserved feeling jealous this time.

Dom rushed towards me, picking me up into his arms and spinning me around. “Did you see it? I fucking flew!” 

My arms wrapped around his neck without thinking, “You won. Congrats.”

Placing me down gently he knew something was wrong when he dragged me back to his dressing room before asking. Boxing me against the door his eyes got dark, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lied.

“We aren’t leaving until you spill.” He still didn’t give anymore room between us than what was already there.

“I’m late and I’m tired. I’ll just Uber back to the hotel and meet you at the airport?” It was the last stop before we flew home for Raw next Monday. I was honestly excited to get back home and back to my routine. Less of his fake relationship thrown in my face.

Taking shelter in a dressing room, the air was thick and I couldn’t get out my words without admitting I love my best friend. Fighting my zipper Dom leaned again the doorframe to the bedroom.

He licked his lips, “You horny or something? I know we have a pact to not cross those lines again, but hermosa if you need me.” 

“Why do you call her Mami?” I bluntly asked.

“I don’t write my scenes, babe. I have zero control over that. Is that what’s wrong?”

“You called me Mami the first time we had sex,” I whispered. “Every time you said it to her…” I didn’t know how to rationalize it or even speak on it yet.

Dom’s hands skated down my sides and landed on my hips. “What happens baby? What happens when I say Mami?”

Pushing his hands off me I flooded the room, pacing lightly trying to find the words. “A lot. I’m jealous, I’m turned on, I’m confused. I don’t know what to do, Dom.”

Ripping his sweaty shirt off he followed me, dragging my hips back to his. “Dom. We can’t. I can’t.”

Dropping his hands from my body so quickly felt like a diss. “Right. I’ve heard it all before. I was good enough to fuck you the first time tho, right?”

Dom was never cruel and I couldn’t believe it as it unfolded.

“You’re my best friend.” I twisted around to face him before sitting on the couch in his dressing room. 

His hands on the back of the couch he fell into me, his knee between my legs and his mouth so close I felt the hot breath against me. “I fucked you until there was blood on my sheets. I stood by while every asshole fucked you instead of me. Fuck, mi amore, I’m still fucking my hand every night because I need you.”

“I can’t fuck you, Dom.”

His hands shoved its way between my legs and found my wet panties quickly. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t rip your wet panties off?” His hands found the strings of my thong before yanking them down my legs.

“Because you’re gonna hate me and I can’t want you until you know.”

Undoing his belt he twisted me over, on all fours and the wetness practically dropped down my inner thigh. I needed Dom so badly I didn’t care. My mouth muffled by my own forearm I couldn’t talk myself out of letting him anymore.

Shoving himself between my legs I nearly gasped, holding my breath and biting down on my own skin.

“Oh my god, Dom.” His chest caved over my back and begged me to scream. “Ohhh fuck.”

“That’s it, baby. So fucking tight. You needed this, didn’t you? so fucking wet for me.” 

I had lost my mind with him inside me, writhing in ecstasy like he knew my body better than I did when his brutal thrusts hit against my ass hard. “Dom. Dom, slower, slower.”

Taking the hint he slowed down, taking him time and punishing us both with long movements. Every time he filled me I felt myself come all over him.

“Tell me why I’m gonna hate you.”

Luckily I was saved by his team mates, the ones he fought with and was always with. “Dom we gotta do some after shots. You ready?” They all stopped dead in their tracks staring at Dom pounding me from the back. 

“Goddamnit. Get out.”

After being frozen long enough they vacated the locker room they clearly all shared.

Hiding my face on the couch I bite down on my own lips to keep from moaning too loudly. “I’m gonna come. Dominik.”

“Say my name baby. I wanna hear you moan it.” 

I could feel his hands tighten and knew he was close when I grabbed onto his hands. “I’m not on birth control. Dom, you can't.”

I had already had one abortion and couldn’t survive another. 

Making me come he pushed himself inside of me until I felt him jerk against my tightness. “Dom! I’m not on anything. I can’t get pregnant.”

Kissing my shoulder he whispered, “it’s not the worst thing in the world. Rather have a baby with my best friend than anyone else.”

Pushing him off me I panicked. “I can’t have another abortion. You don’t understand.”

Tucking himself back into his undone pants his features wrinkled. “You had an abortion? Who the fuck got you pregnant? When?”

“We were babies, Dom don’t be mad. I couldn’t tell you.” Pulling down my dress and trying so hard to not cry.

“Fucking Blaine? You almost had his kid?”

“Dom.” I said sternly, waiting for him to realize. “It wasn’t Blaine.”

Pushing his hands through his hair he stared at me pissed the fuck off. Everything about my face begged for his pity. “You fucking got pregnant? We had sex one time. How?”

The hot stream of tears ran down my face. “We didn’t use a condom, Dom. I came so many times. It was my first time too, I didn’t think I would get pregnant. Your mom promised to keep it a secret until I was ready to tell you.”

“My fucking mom kept your secret? We could have been together. You didn’t even bother telling me.”

He exploded with anger, trashing the locker room and shouting profanities. I had never seen Dom so angry before. 

Rhea, his on screen girlfriend, and his team mates came crashing through the door for a second time like they were listening outside the door but Dom didn’t care. He got so close to my face I actually winced. “You fucking got pregnant and decided not to tell me? But you’re worried if I’m fucking Rhea? You fucking got rid of our baby.”

“We were seventeen, Dom! Babies, we couldn’t have a baby. No one gets pregnant the first time they have sex.”

“But we did, didn’t we? Say it. I wanna hear you say it.” His hand clutched around my jaw, holding my gaze and forcing eye contact. “Say it.”

The tears turned into globs and scarred my face when my mouth fell open but no words came out. “Dom. Don’t.”

I flinched at the closeness when he pushed his face even further into mine. Nearly growling the words, “Fucking. Say. It.” 

“I couldn’t be a mom then. I couldn’t be a wife. We were supposed to be the people who got pregnant the first time. I’m sorry I had the abortion but it had to happen.”

His grip on my face let up and Rhea called his name. “Priest has a match, you coming?”

Shaking off our argument I finally exhaled when he followed her lead. “You’re fucking lucky. You made the wrong choice.”

Dropping down to the couch again I sobbed into my hands contemplating every big moment we had. Dom was every first, every big moment. He was my best friend and I kept the worst secret from him. I felt like a monster.

Priest and Finn appeared on the TV set to fight his dad, Rey, and Randy Orton. I watched trying to compose myself as I left the room. Everyone probably heard and I knew my cheeks would flare up red instantly. 

Making my way to the viewing area I stood in the back watching Dom frantically force his way into the match. His attempts were successful when everyone passed out except his father, Rey. Climbing into the ring, he stood in front of his dad holding a mic.

“What’s wrong? Afraid I’ve outlived the legend.” He toyed with his father like a predator. 

His dad waved his hands and Dom attacked him before dragging Finn over his body for a three count winning his stable the fight. “That’s what you get for being a deadbeat dad. Don’t fuck with my family.”

I knew where this came from when everyone backstage scrambled to plan around Dom going off script. None of this was planned and WWE just landed on a gem of a feud. Father and son against each other.

Dom breezed by me, bandana still over his face and sunglasses still on. Whatever we had been through before was about to get worse. There was no going back now. The damage was done.

Reaching out I tried to make him hear me when he put his arm around Rhea, walking away the way he knew would hurt the most. 

That night I went to the airport by myself, not seeing Dom at all. His things were still a mess around the hotel room. We had the same flight home and I dredged it entirely. Our seats were next to each other and I had no idea how we would make a flight over six hours home. 

I hadn’t seen Dom and decided he changed his flight when I boarded the flight by myself. Holding my duffle bag I slipped inside my seat, digging out my head phones and closing out the world. 

Clamping my eyes down I begged for sleep but I knew better. My racing heart wasn’t going to let up more than ever. The seat next to me wrinkled as I scrolled through playlists to find the right song when I glanced over to see Dom stretching out in our first class seats.

Picking any song I turned it up hoping he wouldn’t try to speak to me anyways. It was three hours into our flight when I finally got his attention. 

I had to scoot by him and that wasn’t going to be easy with his long legs spread out and his hat over his face. “Dom,” I nudged him a couple of times before he woke up.

“If you aren’t waking me up to get you pregnant so you can rectify this problem then I don’t want to hear it.” He crossed his arms tighter and didn’t bother to open his eyes. 

Dom wasn’t going to let up anytime soon and I had to deal with that. I just handed him a bomb before we went back home to California where we were both expected to stay with his parents. Now it felt like I had lost both Dom and the family I had.

“Then what happens, Dom? I got pregnant and what? We raise the baby as best friends? You quit the WWE? You pretend we don’t exist because as far as fans are concerned you’re with Rhea? We were young. Neither of us were ready for that kind of responsibility.” I whispered between us unlike him. 

Pushing his headphones down to his neck and sitting straighter up he finally looked at me. “Yes. Whatever we had to do. Our age, our status, my career - none of it mattered in comparison. If you were pregnant I deserved to know. After we fucked, you were a bitch. Fucking every goddamn guy who took you out, sneaking out, avoiding me, acting like nothing happened. I got you pregnant and you didn’t even bother to tell me. Now is there something you want to say?”

“You’re an asshole,” I spat out before pushing my way through his legs to go to the bathroom.

First class bathrooms were bigger, nicer but still an airplane bathroom. The knock was quiet but I ignored it. I needed time to regain composure before I had to face Dom again. Splashing water on my face carefully stepped out of the way when I realized it was Rhea and Dom flirting. 

It stung. Hell, it felt like a knife. 

Grabbing my hand he jerked me back, “just call it even.”

“You got it, Dominik.”

[drowninginblox]

HideDuo HCs bc we are going through it

The March drought is getting to me y'all. I don't know about all y'all but the anniversary isn't the best thing ever, especially with the Hatsune Miku incident.

I think we deserve a little treat for being dedicated to our favorite roommates. Hence these ramblings.

The following applies to the OSMP characters, not actual streamers themselves. This is gonna be very all over the place, overall cursed, and is projecting. I hope yall enjoy-

Fit:

Can play any sport, but hates all of them (except for ice skating, he fucking loves it but he'll never admit it and he can't skate for shit)

Has read fanfiction before

Knows about dreamsmp lore but doesn't know what it all means in context, very much "Did you know a guy fucked a salmon and had a fox as a child?" "He started a country later? The fish fucker???"

Is into more fru fru coffee drinks than he lets on. Like- fuck yea 9/10 times that mother fucker be drinking that shit black, but he loves some good pumpkin spice- tooty fruity-cuchie deluci frappuccino. He'd only give in around sunny tho.

Was a smoker for a hot minute, quit tho when the ashes nearly lit a TNT. Hasn't picked it up since

Is a slut for pig step

Has read The Art of War

Had a celebrity crush on Philza. He still has it but it's defo diminished since he knows him personally.

Showers daily. I don't care that he's a war-torn mf, that man loves taking showers and will never pass up the opportunity to get one.

Has a poster of Miku Binder Jefferson. Someone gave it to him as a secret Santa present and he has no idea who or what to do with it. He's tempted to burn it but he's kind of afraid of it. It's so cursed that it shows up in his nightmares.

He thinks about Forever a lot more than he wants to admit. He's afraid of the possibility of turning into a monster since he was exposed to the black concert a lot. He understands the fear is irrational since it was long ago but the intrusive thought lingers.

He's thought about marriage in general and with Pac. He'd never admit it but he planned out everything from the venue to the music to the vows. He'd easily swipe it all away if Pac said he had an idea of what he wanted it to be like.

is fluent in Morse code

Knows sign language

Hearing aids mf

Has a family somewhere out there, one that he lost or left only to be dumped into TB2T

Loves crosswords, especially during breakfast and right after Ramon goes to bed.

His favorite smell is cinnamon and cocoa butter

Believes in Herobrine

Can't do long division to save his life

Hates the sound of Velcro

Pac:

Likes the Pacman TV show

Smells like cinnamon and cocoa butter

Has too many scars from the cats he's owned over the years.

Married Mike for tax reasons in the past. They play it up that they're bitter divorcés from time to time

Doesn't shower as often as he should, not because he hates it but because he has a long routine and enjoys baths far more

Enjoys tea and coffee equally

Was a homestuck fan (yesIFUCKINGDIDTHATTOHIMWHATAREYAGONNADO???)

Gay awakening was Rufio from Hook

watches Reading Rainbow as an adult

paints on his prosthetic all the damn time

Has a Post-it note collection. He barely uses them but he has a rainbow of them and each color represents a member of the island.

Has a sticker collection

Always carries small snacks for his pocket dude (I heard about this through the wiki, apparently Pac has a pocket boy? If not then he does now lmao) mostly gummy bears and crackers

Is afraid of the ocean. Idk why that just sounds right for him and if it is it recontextualizes the date he had w fit lol

knows Morse code

Knows some phrases in American sign language (fit is teaching him / is learning for fit, whichever is cuter)

Has hacked into a government-locked server, left lobster porn in place of any files he took. Idk which government it was or why he did it, but he did and they haven't recovered since

Is the type to listen to Jon Bellion and Talor Swift. No, i will not elaborate

Has very vivid daydreams. Aside from drugs and PTSD, he has some really nice ones all on his own. Mostly about Fit tbh.

[inahallucination]

famous au but um dumb

@cowboylexapro

if the poets were on social media and famous this is what they'd be known for

(age somewhere between 19-21)

todd

tumblr blog name: toad.anderson

ao3 name: toad.writes

he's technically anon but not rlly

sexiest tumblr account known to man - he's a fanfic writer and an au poster with some occasional og stuff that floods his inbox with asks begging him to publish his og work too - what fandom does he write for? all of them.

his bf proof reads them all even if he's never been in the fandom

he writes fics for his friends when they get famous

in between his novel worthy fanfics are shitty fics of his friends

his followers get rlly confused

he wrote a neil x reader fic until straight girls started claiming it and he took it down becuz the reader was him

todd on his blog: guyss… im so sorry but im taking the neil x reader fic down… im sorry if i offend anyone but the reader was me ❤️ not you - i don't like you all claiming it

after taking down the x reader, he does a neil x oc but the oc is him but with green eyes

neil, after the oc gets described: todd the only person im seeing is u tho 😦 and u have blue eyes

eventually his relationship with famous tiktoker neil perry gets revealed and ppl realize he's not just an obsessed fan

after neil says the thing blog: toad.anderson: guys my real name is todd anderson everyone: omg we wouldve never guessed

after neil and him go public and ppl dont believe that neil is gay he alternates between seething and writing neil fics and taking joy from neil's confusion

todd points out comments that are obviously thirsting over neil and neil still doesn't realize he's being thirsted over

"neil be the father of my children!" "oh i think they meant that in a godfather type way"

todd, at a breaking point, suggests that neil and him post a kissing video but neil doesnt wanna be one of those shawn camilla couples - respect

what if he posted them kissing but he made a historians will call them bestfriends joke but then ppl did🧍‍♂️

"my bestie and I 🤩 " "NEIL PEOPLE ARE GOING TO THINK UR SERIOUS"

//

neil

tiktok name: neilliard.at.julliard

accidentally tiktok famous for pretty face, charming personality, acting abilities - the theater kids had a claim over him orignially but he's pretty mainstream now

comment section full of old grandmas trying to set him up with their granddaughters

everyones dream bf until he posted about his own bf

neil: my boyfie has a big tumblr and he writes a lot and he really likes frogs and he is also blond and heres his address

hes kinda oblivious about everything

"you want a close up of my collar bones? why ?"

reading comment "'show your abs?' its nice you think i have abs! only my boyfriend can see those tho 😉 "

the comments go wild

people are stitching it screaming for different reasons

all his fans r screaming into pillows bc HES TAKEN NOOO

people are trying to figure out who this mans boyfie is

"he has a boyfriend??" "he's been straightbaiting us!" "NOO HE'S TAKEN" "IS UR BF AS HOT AS U" "look at the way his eyes lit up when he said bf i love love" "this video shows an aspect of society that-"

"tell us about ur bf" and he makes a week worth of videos but its all random stuff

"my bf looks pretty in blue" "my bf likes to put salt and pepper on his fries" "my bf has hair"

the straightbaiting comments come after him posting about pride and having a pride flag in the background of his videos <- they say things like "he's such a good ally"

people attack others in the comments who ask him if hes queer "NO NEIL ISNT GAY NOT EVERYTHING HAS TO BE GAY HE COULD JUST BE A REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY FRUITY STRAIGHT GUY WHO LIKES GIRLS"

"are you gay neil???" -> "not everything has to be gay ppl can just be allys and btw by assuming every ally is gay, ur actually hurting the movement!!!" -> "i asked becuz he said he wanted to kiss his boy best friend on the lips in highschool" -> "he meant it heterosexual-ly"

someone asks him what his type is and he describes todd to the t and they think he likes a short haired blonde

"he likes girls in sweat pants not skirts" "his type isnt ppl in skirts" -- neil would love todd in a skirt but thats not the point

his type: "he's really shy, gorgeous, short dirty blonde hair, uhhhh, really smart, and So much more :))"

he could say my boyfriend is a man who i am dating because i am gay and they would still try to straight-ify him

a grainy video gets leaked of a short haired blond guy jumping into his arms and ppl say things like "its just a girl with short hair"

todd hate writes a neil x male reader fic

he asks his friends for help and they post todd's face everywhere on his recording set

he makes a video like "meet my toddy"

in the video todd says he's a boy and he's todd and he's neil boyfriend 3485757 times and neil is like "omg babe i love u too <33" becuz he doesnt Understand

some ppl r still in denial or think he's bi w/ a preference for girls

straight girls like him becuz he has a pretty face and a general respect for women

during prom season, he gets dmed a lot of websites for buying prom tickets

"don't worry guys! i know i said my high school time was rough, but i actually did go to prom with my bf!!"

//

charlie

twitter name: therealalpha

most popular podcast name: daltons intercourse

joke/bait account ppl took seriously

The Alpha that other alpha posters bow to

says stuff like "SIGMA MALES KISS ALPHAS ON THE MOUTH TO ASSURT DOMINANCE"

the twitter alphas buy into him so bad he's making podcasts and doign interviews and he has no clue how tf he got here but he's riding the high

he advocates for being alpha via kissing ur homies

when he gets famous he begs todd to write a fic about him

todd agrees pretty easily tbh

"ARE YOU EVEN AN ALPHA MALE IF PPL AREN'T WRITING GAY FICS ABOUT YOU"

charlie posts things like "no homo" "only the real make out with their homies" over those black and white pics of muscle-y dudes w/ no context after the neil video he posts "he homo" over one of them w/ no context

at first ppl try to attack him but then theyre like wtf is going on here and realize he's trolling the alpha community

when no one realizes neil is actually gay he makes a podcast episode talking about how he thinks neil is gay gay homosexual gay - he's holding a cigar and wearing a tight hawaiian unbuttoned shirt like "lets talk about this gay gay theater gay boykisser man"

made by @cowboylexapro

//

pitts

youtube name: gerdoesstuff

joint youtube name: idkman

homework help and crafts videos youtuber - relaxed vibes only here to be calm

he gives study and concentration tips and encourages ppl to seek help and companionship and not suffer alone

he paints mugs and looks for bugs

he was on charlie's podcast and they discussed the alpha-ness of making pottery

todd wrote a pitts x reader fic becuz ppl begged him to

pitts printed it out and framed it and put it in his filming set up

he's a regular on meeks podcast too btw and meeks is a regular on his

but when meeks is around things explode so

he has a second channel with meeks where they do silly experiments

theyre posting schedule is non-existent and they also do streams but they never tell you so their viewers just have to hope and find out

knox and him are planning on making a movie review channel but its still not fully thought out so

he makes couple mugs for todd and neil when neil asks for help

he wakes up at 2 am and sends todd prompts

anytime he learns a fun fact he sends it to todd on the off chance todd may need it for a story at some point in his life

anytime he reads anything he's like damn neil will love to act like this character and lets him know about it

he sends charlie alpha podcasters to make fun of

at some point he exposes cam's shitty handwriting for the giggles

knox

instagram name: knoxious.ur.mom.ious

he posted a short on his instagram talking about how he just learned hair grows from the head and not the bottom and blew up for being a dummy - he doesn't know whats going on but he's having a blast

he stirs up drama but on accident

he was on pitts youtube before

out of everyone here he's the only one not making content he's just vibing

eventually he ends up posting background footage of everyone doing dumb shit

when it comes out theyre friends ppl stalk his instagram to find more proof

after that he starts to stir drama but more consciously

hmm what else - idk he's just chilling, getting called out for being dumb and watching his friends do dumb stuff

oh wait when he makes that short about the hair a bunch of commentary channels post about it and he takes it like a badge of honor

cameron

instagram name: cam.studies

pinterest name: cam.studies

one of those aesthetic studying accounts on insta and pinterest - takes nice shots of his homework and his pen collections and his study desk

except its only for the pics his handwriting is atrocious - he has like one page or paragraph of pretty handwriting to post and the rest is scribbled chaos - his pens are never organized by color, theyre just thrown in a box, and his desk is filled with papers and books and never looks clean but its fine he's just here for clout

he ends up sponsoring and reviewing businesses that make those cute study supplies so now he has a hoard - or at least he did until his friends started taking them

he groaned about the cam.studies x {random ass ppl} fics todd wrote but he thinks theyre funny and has them bookmarked

he went on charlie's podcast and the two argued for half of it and then explained how as two alphas they would settle their differences by kissing

his friends help him angle his aesthetic shots at cafes and shit

he got exposed eventually as a fake becuz ppl (cough) posted his real notes which were messy and disorganized

but he played it off as a commentary about how the internet is fake and got more sponsorships

he judges todd and neil but is eating popcorn at the front seat of the drama

meeks

podcast name: chameleon hotel

youtube channel name: idkman

meeks makes a podcast for very stupid intricate crimes. he has a cult following of bisexuals

its stuff like drama over a tree being taken down

"the locals even called their beloved tree 'ole alvin'"

charlie: todd write a meeks x ole alvin fic

he has standards, so he does

he went on charlie's podcast and convinced ppl that being with other men allowed u to suck in their alpha-ness and become the ultimate alpha

but generally he just makes his little silly videos and makes cryptic posts about the neil todd drama

has a joint channel w/ pitts

is up to date with the neil thing and is the one to send neil updates

he tries to convince neil to act out his podcasts (with a lot of success lmao)

he tries to convince todd to write fics based on his podcasts (also with a lot of success)

as payback for the ole alvin x meeks fic he convinces todd (very easily) to write a bunch of dumb charlie fics and todd agrees becuz he has standards

no one actually knows that the poets know each other

they eventually post a group photo

"we need to cancel neil perry for being friends with an alpha podcast guy" "nah thats just charlie"

"yall know hes bi, right?"

"he literally has a podcast about how sucking dick as a man makes u the ultimate alpha male"

it does explain why charlie's alpha podcast go from tiktok actor, tumblr fanfic writer, instagram study blog, fellow podcaster, hw help tiktoker in between his satire of normal alpha tiktokers

half of these things are like copy and pasted from our conversation btw so dont blame me for them

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 10

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

I am so stoked for this chapter! I've been really getting into the story to the point that I want to read multiple chapters per day (I COULD but I also want to be able to take notes- so I cannot realistically with the amount of hours in a day I have) BUT I will continue with one a day.

Normally I have hot drinks while reading, but I am dehydrated as fuck, so take this as your (mostly mine, but also your) reminder to drink some water.

Let's get into it!

Wait! Like three seconds in and we are starting off strong! How can Sha Hualing control Shen Qingqiu??? p213

Holy shit, even in his new body he's being poisoned. I suppose, theoretically, if there is a person who never gets poisoned, there must be a person, statistically, who always get's poisoned. p214

Shen Qingqiu (probably): if I had a dime for every time I had demonic blood poisoning me I would have two, and that's not a lot, but fucked up it happened twice. LOL

also Shen Qingqiu (probably at this point): "and this is how I was abducted and then became a qi sex slave for a half demon cultivator" p214

Omg also, the fact that Sha Hualing tried to plant a fake SQQ to try and appease Luo Binghe. RIP to her this time for almost (accidentally) doing it again. no wonder Luo Binghe is so pissed! pp216-217

Oh god. SQQ probably doesn't die here but it would be equally terrible and funny if after all of this, second body and all, like less than 2 days in, Luo Binghe just accidentally destroys SQQ. immediate end of story p217

Well- the system is now fixed! p220

and now shen qingqiu is wearing basically a veil, oh my. p222

(Okay unrelated but related to the veil, I desperately need some arranged marriage au's. I am so ready to read the heck out of this pairing when I'm done the books).

I have a sneaking suspicion that this man (SQQ) does a terrible job of hiding his identity. "he just had to be especially careful so Luo Binghe didn't discover that he'd pull off a great escape using the Son-Moon Dew Mushrooms". p222

He really needs a better name than peerless cucumber. LOL I can't every time he introduces himself. p223

oh no, baby Luo Binghe has been mourning this entire time. p224

You know what, I'm not even mad that Little Palace Mistress is in this awful state, she is a vile character that has not grown on me at all. p226

Yeah Shen Qingqiu he definitely did not end up with any of the women because he has been super mourning for you my guy. (not that he knows this because he is oblivious af) pp228-229

Oh. My. God. This man really thinks that Luo BInghe is asexual. I can't wait till he finds out. LOL p230

Oooo! Another dream realm sequence p231

oh and we have two SQQ's (again I need this fanfiction)

aaaaaah luo binghe has clocked the real SQQ p236

Okay okay, he thinks this SQQ is part of the dream and does not know he is indeed the real deal. thank fuck for SQQ's sake I guess p236-237

Oop. now this guys is "yes and"ing Luo Binghe in the dream. Oh gosh I hope this ends alright. p237

The head pats! p238

OH MY GOD p239

DREAM REALM KISS??????!!!!!!!!!!!!! p239

(AHAHAAA his face in the art tho)

LOL the system p239

Bro just found out why Luo Binghe had no wives and is GOOPED. He really found out in the worst of ways for him ahahahahahahahah I am CACKLING p241

I truly don't know how these two end up together with SQQ not vibing at all. is it Stockholm syndrome? like I genuinely do not know how SQQ ends up realizing his emotions for this man.

SQQ is literally saved by the bell in this one. p242

Liu Qingge is here?!?!? has he been trying to avenge SQQ this entire time? p243

Ah, Fuck!

SO MANY THINGS HAPPENED.

We have a kiss, we have a SQQ now trying to be sneaky, I honestly don't know how this man is going to stay hidden- if at all.

And next chapter we have a showdown ?!?!?!?

[euripidestrousers]

Do you have any underrated wolfstar fics that you would recommend?

Weehee this gives me another chance to talk about Merry Men, one of my favourite wolfstar fics! These are not in order tho

(FYI - some of these are WIPs but I am a 100% believer in reading WIPs, yeah sometimes you have to wait for a chapter but that's part of the joy, screaming at the author all your love and encouragement.)

Merry Men - @copper-dust

It's gorgeously written, I mean every second sentence is poetry, and several I've had to put it down just to think about the masterpiece of a paragraph I've just read. Military AU, with a brutally honest view of the Vietnam war - we've got soft wolfstar amidst gunfire and grief, and sweet new cadet James, and all the incredibly 4D minor characters you could ask for. Deserves so so much more kudos and attention, it's currently <50 kudos and it's absolutely criminal.

When A Star Fell To Earth - EmRoseJori

Sci-fi AU. This was an absolute blast beginning to end. This is like watching a thrilling space-fi movie but with Wolfstar. And Remus is Welsh!!! It pretty much all takes place on earth, but in a futuristic post-apocalyptic setting. 430 kudos isn't minor but I think it deserves a hell of a lot more.

Made of Magic - lurikko

Short and sweet. Somehow combines cute and unnerving, menacing haunting vibes. Remus is hired to essentially exorcise Mr Black's house and there's something strange about the magic in the house. It's spooky and charming - recommend with a blanket and a tea on an overcast day.

The Space Between - @emeryhall

This fic made me laugh and cry (I finished a tissue box). It's a get-together fic where Remus follows Sirius through the veil. So so fresh and creative.

We Of Dust & Shadow - @eurhythmix

A stars crossed, soul mate adjacent AU. Difficult to describe without spoiling the fun, but it was thrilling and emotional and beautiful beginning to end. If you liked the themes of The Fall (minus the rom com), I think you'll like this short fic.

Not Like it Used To Be, But Just As Good @starrysummer-nights

Oh my God, this fic. The ultimate soft porn with feelings. So many feelings and emotions and LOVE between older wolfstar. And the smut is fucking hot, you'll need a fan.

There are many many more in my tbr list, but I spend all my time writing and have neglected the list!

Ty for the ask, please give something from this list a go ☺️☺️