#though knowing me ill think of something else to draw while im working on that

[milkweedman]

Wanted to know how much faster spinning on my wheel is compared to spinning on a supported spindle--specifically, I wanted to compare the yardage I could produce on each tool within a given amount of time. I chose to use my russian supported spindle because it was next to me and empty, and spun on a 13.5:1 drive ratio (the medium whorl) since thats what my wheel was already set to (and to be fair, i rarely use another ratio). I spun some nice gray roving because i didnt want to use hand prepped fiber for it.

The experiment was thus: I set up my spindle/wheel (attaching fiber and spinning just enough to get started, then marked my place with some scrap fiber), set a timer for 20 minutes, and spun continuously until the timer ran out. I chose not to include the set up in my timing because that only happens at the beginning, and in a test this short i was pretty sure it would skew the results a little. I also never paused the timer when the fiber broke and i had to reattach it, since that can happen repeatedly while spinning and realistically does affect how fast one can spin.

After 40 minutes of spinning, i had these two singles, shown on the bobbin/spindle and then skeined up.

No surprise there--obviously i spun more on the wheel. The pictures are actually pretty deceptive though, since i was not aiming for a particular weight and just spun what came naturally. On the wheel its much much thicker than on a supported spindle--a heavy fingering weight singles compared maybe a heavy cobweb singles. But the purpose of this experiment was to see the yardage specifically, and--

On my wheel, I spun 54 yards/49.3 meters in twenty minutes

On my spindle, I spun 17 yards/15.5 meters in twenty minutes

Which is just over 3 times faster on my wheel. I'm actually pretty shocked by that--I was predicting AT LEAST 5 times faster on my wheel, and I honestly wouldnt have been surprised if it was closer to 10. But nope, a measly 3.

Which is pretty cool to know. Before this experiment, if I had to spin something on a deadline, I would always have picked my wheel to spin it on. But now im actually thinking it may be a draw, maybe weighted just slightly in favor of the spindle for a few reasons--i have limited ability to spin on my wheel since it's more painful by far, but also my spindles are way more portable. So if, for some reason, i had to spin a hat's worth of laceweight singles ASAP, doing it on spindles that i can use in the car/on the train, at work, in bed, etc, would probably be a more efficient way of doing it than sitting at my wheel for two hours, ending up in quite a bit of pain and potentially triggering a flare up.

The chief slowdown of the spindles is the logistics of the temporary cop, since it means that for every length of yarn you produce, you are winding it by hand three times--the first time onto the temporary cop, the second time onto your hand once the temporary cop is full, and then the third time onto the actual cop at the base/middle of the spindle. This is kinda unavoidable--you dont need a temporary cop for drop spindles, for example, because youre spinning much longer lengths of yarn at a time, so for each time that you have to wind it up the spindle stick to get to the tip, youve spun at least an armspan of yarn, potentially up to 2. Whereas on a supported spindle, much less (anywhere between 3 inches/7.5 cm to 12 inches /30.5 cm depending on what I'm spinning). I dont know exactly how much slower it is to forego a temporary cop, but i highly suspect its far more than the slowdown of winding thrice. Maybe ill check at some point, but i dont really want to (ive tried it, and its extremely tedious).

Anyway, suprising but heartening results ! Would be very interested to hear the results of others if anyone else wanted to give it a go for their own edification. (Im actually really curious what other spinners speed is ! And would be interested to hear drop spindle or other hand spindle speeds even without a comparison to another tool !)

[meetthesoldier]

hi sorry this is outta nowhere but i would love to hear ur thoughts on harry (phone

SORRY ANON I LEGIT FORGOT ABT THIS ASK and im too lazy to draw her fr so heres some fanart i drew of her dying in a glue trap

this time i have a bit more thoughts on her as an actual character so ill start w that before the headcanon dump ... also, throughout this post ill be referring to her w she/her pronouns because of a personal headcanon im VERY attached to. all i ask is any rbs or further questions abt my specific vision of her use those same pronouns... in others posts i do not care obviously. also, this post is specifically abt her in the dsaf universe since shes far more substantial there.

firstly, i should say i ADORE harry. she is one of my biggest comfort characters in a series where almost everybody is one for me. so when i give any criticisms, know its out of love and a wish for some more expansive writing rather than any malice. being critical of media you love is important, etc etc.

my biggest issues with her character really boils down to the lack of acknowledgement abt her being physically disabled. she mentions having a "bad leg" during 3, but its ONLY mentioned that one time, during (i believe) missable dialogue. i understand her not using, like, mobility aids for it since it may be difficult to find suitable stock images (+ all the phonies in that game use the same photos for their bodies, and its totally possible its not something she feels she needs), but it probably shouldve been mentioned or expanded upon more.

i dont believe were given any explanation on how her leg ended up the way it is, or in what way it is. we dont know if she was born with her disability or aquired it later. we dont know if its paralyzed, we dont know if its because of a muscular dystrophy, or anything else. i just wish we were given more info, bcus as it is, it is REALLY easy to look over in favor of, say, her ptsd.

speaking of which, i have some mixed feelings on how her ptsd is portrayed. on one hand, the joke in the restaurant reviews abt her having flashbacks and a subsequent panic attack feels very distasteful, though thankfully this is (i believe) the only instance of this kind of joke at her expense. im glad elsewise it isnt some huge , controlling part of her character - however, again, it IS missable. while one can assume she has it when she discusses her past, i dont believe its explicitly stated UNTIL that review.

tldr; her disability feels poorly handled, mostly from lack of expansion and discussion.

thankfully, though, she is elsewise a very enjoyable character; shes got some really good and funny dialogue, the exposition we get from her about the original managers is really fucking good, and i really wish we heard more abt her experience working with rebecca (and presumably roger)... again, her biggest issues are just not having as much of a spotlight on her as she couldve, but considering the employees arent really the main focus of the game that may be fine actually...

(as an aside, i think about this post every day and cry audibly.)

thus ends the longform musings, onto the silly headcanons;

standard fare queer headcanon dump: trans woman + demisexual lesbian. also, polyamorous. fuck yeah baby steak (ref)

was in a queerplatonic relationship with joe while he was alive, and a romantic one with both tango/terrence (who has some gender fuckery going on as well) and rebecca because i am not immune to homemade lesbianism.

has ptsd in canon, but im adding a "c" in front of that cause aint no way she lived through all of her coworkers (and presumably FRIENDS) dying in such horrific ways and was only affected in the short-term.

autistic! specifically also has the thing i do where i need the time to be a multiple of 5 before i can start doing anything. also has generalized anxiety i think, with a tendency to catastrophize and compensates by insisting to herself everything is toootally fine. definitely NOT going to have a breakdown rn because shes not totally sure that that vending machine is 100% not going to fall on her specifically

probably didnt have many friends as a kid (L) so now she overcompensates by trying to be as charming and polite as possible. wether or not this works in her favor or makes her seem pretentious is a coinflip. (its certainly working on me though!)

has a real soft spot for random niche animals. probably a big salamander and gecko girl. her favorite is the marbled salamander because its cute as hell

slightly off topic everyday i think of how fucking horrific it mustve been for joe to come into work one morning and his best friend just has a phone for a head and extreme memory issues now . literally what the fuck. thats so fucked up

to do a tonal 180... if she was a pokemon trainer shed have a herdier or stoutland as a sort of service dog for walking shorter-medium distances when she rlly doesnt feel like whipping out the cane :.-)

shes so pale its actually ridiculous. bro looks like she hasnt seen the sun in 5 years ... jake pokes a bit of fun for it sometimes

thanks for asking, anon! i love getting excuses to talk about dsaf. i have a lot of thoughts, you know... dont ever friend me on discord my ass will randomly drop either the goofiest or angstiest headcanons at random intervals and i have no real control over whichor when it will be

[compassionatereminders]

Hi sorry for the long ask. i think i might have depression or something. I just feel like im always looking at people through some kind of mask, idk. Like i dont fit in anywhere. And sure at work that might just be normal for me bc ive always been a bit different than everyone else but i also feel like i have to pretend to be someone im not even with my best friend. Im just very low on energy all the time. I used to like art i think? I dont even remember if i actually liked it or just pretend i like it. Right now i feel like ive just been saying i like art because it's always been like that but do i really still like it? I sometimes dont draw for months. I feel like im not good enough at work, im a graphic designer but im not creative at all and im being compared to my coworker by my boss and it sucks. I just started my job 2 months ago but i already want to quit but i dont know what else i want to do. The only thing im maybe a bit decent and interested in is design and art even though i dont know if i even like it or if i just pretended to like it for too long that i dont know the difference anymore. On top of this my dad is sick and its incurable and he's literally gonna die soon and he's too young to die.

I just feel like something is wrong with me, at this point im hoping something is wrong with me so it can be fixed. I dont want this to just be my personality. But i dont really want to seek professional help because i dont want my mom to worry. There's so much going on for her already, im the person she depends on the most right now and i dont want to make this more difficult. And of course i also feel like its not bad enough to really count as any mental illness or something. I mean it's not that bad, it might just the the winter season that's making me sadder than usual. And the entire situation im in. And also the fact that i just dont know what i want regarding my job. So its not that weird that im low on energy and i dont want to draw something for my friend that he asked for even though i have 4 days in the week i dont have to work. But i dont draw on those days, i only watch series all day. In the morning i lie down on the couch and in the evening i get up to go back to bed and that was my entire day yesterday and Wednesday. Just no motivation to do anything fun other than this.

You dont have to diagnose me or anything but any personal thoughts on this?

Btw i started following your blog because somewhere last year when i could feel myself just needing some encouragement and positivity. The posts really did cheer me up a little for a while.

While I won't try to diagnose you, it does sound like you are genuinely struggling - and even if this does not qualify as mental illness, that should not prevent you from seeking help and answers. Because the earlier you reach out for support, the better are your odds of avoiding a severe mental health episode. And it's better to worry your mom a bit to get better than to bottle all of this up until it reaches the point of no return. Because you're right that something is going on here. And even if you aren't mentally ill, losing a parent is by itself a major life crisis and a very good reason to seek out therapy and support

[bloodsadx]

Hey will there be any musubi fantasy shirts available at the Chicago popup? I'm a huge musubi fan and I love your musubi fantasy stuff

i think i have exactly 1 black one left over one but i dont know if somebody ordered it and i accidentally left it out of their order or not but the amount of times ive posted "email me if you haven't got your order" has been several so i might bring it? idk. i was thinking abt reprinting a couple but idk if i have the time. i will probably do something with that drawing again though because like ive said before on here its one of my favorite things ive ever drawn so if it doesnt work out don't worry too much or anything.

the main stuff i am planning to bring:

the cavity/dennis shirt (tentatively called ketchup and mustard: from the fridge)

gmod toenail shirts

i love pimple and toenail shirts/sweaters/tanktops

a couple of HSM hoodies (if time permits)

exactly 1 jalapeno shirt (my embroidery machine is broken or else there would be a couple more im sorry ;_;)

i think i have 2 cool ranch shirts

the minimum price of a shirt there is probably going to be 60 dollars!! im not set on the price of the dennis/cavity shirt yet but probably at least 100 dollars (its 15 screens, which is, a lot of work. for reference the HSM stuff was all like, 8-10 screens, and in the same place every shirt. they are also printed on shaka wear blanks which are expensive and very high quality, very heavy. and they use a Lot of ink). im doing the pop up partially to fund my travel expenses to just otherwise visit the city and hang out with my friends im not gonna lie so like i need da money.

and then i have a couple ideas for other stuff if i have time but irdk im working my butt off im recording vlogs and shit while i do everything so like whatever happens happens and itll be documented but idk if you come out im gonna give u a sticker or a pin or something at least probably. ill doodle u a toenail idk.

excited to see anybody that comes!! please don't be weird to me or flirt with me but otherwise i will be nice to you ok!!

[orbiyoo]

3 4 and 14! :D

3. what ideas come from when you were little!

cant tell if this means like ideas about art in general or ideas about what/how u draw? ill do both i guess. but to be really honest i have like no memory LOL i know i was big into anime as a preteen so that's definitely where the nightmare began in general. like with my art style... i don't even want to get into art styles cause i don't think that's real but also i do so bad because i dont have one and it kills me. i guess this is sort of an inverse of from when i was little but i did have a hater of pink phase and now i understand that i was so wrong. now i tend to use a lot of warm colors and pink when i draw i love you peach i love you orange i love you pink!!!! for art in general idk where it comes from but i have it in my head that i have to render every single thing when i do NOT and im working on not being so bananas about it.. but on the nice side i've always been a firm believer that anybody can draw and maybe should draw once in a while. im not a fan of "practice so you can get good" Nao!!! learning is fun but why is it about being "good" what does that even mean draw with whatever you have even if you think it sucks and then love your creation. it's about catharsis. have some whimsy

4. fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw

everything (coughs up blood) actually i Love frills and hair. i DONT LOVE RENDERING FRILLS AND HAIR AAAAHG!!!! also eyes because i never ever draw them consistently i forget how im drawing them every 10 minutes. and for characters this is shameful to admit but i have such a hard time getting emu right she's literally my favorite and my weirdgirl daughter but i just cannot get her regular hair to look right ever. OH ALSO I LOVE SHOES SO SO MUCH AND I JUST CAN'T DRAW THEM... i love chunky sneakers.. loafers... dress shoes... i always get stumped drawing the soles

14. any favorite motifs

oooh my god well since yuo asked i fucking LOVE anything that involves like a stage or acknowledging that the media is a story/a work of art. its definitely revstar and orvs fault but like stage curtains and audience seats and page margins and books and the character(s) staring at the viewer. etc. i hate the monarchy but i freaking love knights. chivalry in general its a gender on its own. also to be generic i Love devil motifs and horns in general and blood but not in a gorey way more like a metaphorical blood on your hands way. i love the light that corrupts im like a moth... umm and like to get really specific the impaling of someone with a sword especially while in a tragic/intimate setting/tender embrace will get me every time. to get really vague anything to do with love even when its sad though personally i believe love prevails. i also love a tragic jester. what else umm stars n space and astronauts but specifically with whatever the future eve MV has going on... oh i love when something symbolizes a characters determination or ambition. best reference for this off the top of my head is the tomato thing in revstar.. im editing the post to add this but ballet even though i hate doing it the visual themes are so good. and i LOVE texture in both digital and physical mediums especially when noise/scratchy textures or chunky paint or visible strokes etc are used to show anger and rage like YESSS rise rise rise it is so Visceral and it is so good. thank u for the ask!!! ♪(*^^)o∀*∀o(^^*)♪

[lovphobic]

Ooo let's hear about thalya! Love that name btw

oo an enabler. love u.

i will try to do this as linear as possible, but a lot of her story is sildraste's, and a lot of sildraste's is hers lmao. and of course all of this is subject to change due to me having her as a character with substance for like. 3 days max, while also filling in the roles ive already given her through sildraste

so she lives with her father in this settlement out in what would be the country. just outside of a city basically. she works as kinda an apprentice under her father, who is a jeweler. which is how the pendant comes into play eventually

when she isnt helping him though, she likes to be helpful to other people in the settlement. a healing hand. so right now i have her as an alchemist artificer (which is a lot to try and understand when youve never played and barely understand the game as is fjhsdjkf) which i feel plays well off of sildraste's class of ranger.

i want her to be this really kind and bubbly character. really em and sympathetic. she will cry when you cry. i want to play her off as naive but like, shes really not. belle from beauty and the beast. thats who i want you to think of. just with less focus on the books. just a joy to be around with no real enemies

which is how she and sildraste really come to hit it off together. sildraste wandered into the settlement on one of her journeys, stopped for supplies and food and a place to generally safely rest. and ended up staying.

im still not sure how i want this to come about, but i am dead set on this pendant somehow leading to sildraste "killing" her. so im going to skip over this bit of the story for right now. its cursed somehow and leads to thalya becoming a danger to the settlement, thats all you really need to know jfshfjk

but when sildraste looses and arrow that Shouldve been a killing shot, due to the general Weight of the situation. the anguish and disbelief and. well. every emotion you can expect to have when you have to kill the love of your life. due to all those emotions she misfires. it wounds her! and in her panic, sildraste Really Does Think thalya's dead. so she takes the pendant from her neck as something to remember her by, and flees. middle of the night leave her on the floor "dead" flees.

but of course in classic good ma/ss ef/fect 3 style heartstring tugging, soon as shes gone, thalya draws breath. not well enough to stand, or to call out. just enough to know she's still alive and needs help. WHICH! i think would be a good play on her artificer class to cast healing word on herself

im not sure again how i want her to come to the conclusion that pendant cursed > i was cursed, i was a threat to society > pendant gone > love of my life has it > the story is going to repeat on > i have to find her before its too late BUT thats the conclusion i want her to come to.

essentially i think itd be really cool for her to have to have this pleading showdown with sildraste right as shes on the brink of no return and in a jen/nifers bo/dy style just RIP the pendant off her neck

thats kinda her story right now! i dont have much else to say about it. but some fun things are: i figured out her birthday and sign today! she was born december 19 and is a sagittarius. after i post this and shower ill work on her alignment quiz and get around to posting THAT.

and here is her playlist, if you want to get a better Feel for her character. it kinda goes through her whole story on its own, just not in order per se LJFHDSJKFSA

LASTLY!! here is her picrew + face claim. i found the face claim on unsplash and. because of that i have no idea who this is. but thats my thalya! (peep the pendant)

[el-patito-de-los-ojos-triste]

weird asks #42-69

Wow, so many Dx putting this under a cut

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

jacket pockets, and yet i do not ever wear jackets. I've got a sleeveless hoodie thing that I love though. (here's an older pic) It has a tail!!!!

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

Hmmmm, I really want a leather jacket with chains and studs and junk, like an old style punk jacket. Not much for the other options though.

44. favorite scent for soap?

I've been using Squatch Soap for a while and I really like their Bay Rum. But normally I go with fruity smells.

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy and Sci-fi are sorta tied depending on the execution. Superhero is fun but definitely not my fav.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

I sleep naked usually o//,//o if i have to wear something cuz like guests/travelling/whatever, I just wear some shorts.

47. favorite type of cheese?

mmmmmmmmm depends on when. Sandwiches? Idk, like meunster or cheddar or provolone. Just eating? Mozerella or colby jack. Overall? A good pepperjack is hard to beat.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

pumpkin maybe?

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

-You never know what someone else is going through, a little kindness can go a long way

-If it doesn't make you happy, it's not worth doing, and vice versa

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

51. current stresses?

money

52. favorite font?

I like Papyrus or a good cursive looking font.

53. what is the current state of your hands?

Lots of tiny scratches from work and from the kittens. Few bigger scrapes and junk from the same. Nails are fairly recently trimmed. Unpainted :c

54. what did you learn from your first job?

Never trust anyone, especially managment.

55. favorite fairy tale?

I don't know. I've got all sorts of collections of fairy tales so I know a ton. I'm bad at picking favorites

56. favorite tradition?

Not many traditions in my family, but for a lot of my life, instead of getting a christmas tree, cuz we'd travel to see family ever year, plus we had cats, we would tape together a bunch of poster board and draw a christmas tree and ornaments together.

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

My dad's suicide and our subsequent move across the country

my own struggles with mental illness (obvs not done with them but like, i've made a ton of progress and like im stable now and whatnot)

For a long time i worked a shit tier job (about 70 hours a week) while i was also going to school full time for college.

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

Singing, puzzle solving, juggling, and I'm great with animals/small children

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

Ope, or Aw hell

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

Isekai

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

No One Owns Life, But Anyone Who Can Pick Up a Frying Pan Owns Death

62. seven characters you relate to?

Bojack Horseman (I'm not happy about it, I recognize that it's for bad reasons), Equius Zahhak, Bob Belcher (I guess), Martin Crief (Cabin Pressure, idk man you said 7, I really only had the first 2).

63. five songs that would play in your club?

(I'm trying to think of dance sort of songs, rather than my favorite songs, but I do really like these ones)

-Blackout - Breathe Carolina

-Discord - Eurobeat Brony remix

-Party With Pinkie - DJ Alex

-Custer - Slipknot

-Scream - Slipknot

64. favorite website from your childhood?

Poptropica or neopets maybe. If you go reaaaally far back, I wanna say it was something like addictinggames.com

65. any permanent scars?

Many. There's a line on my chin that's hidden by beard now from when i banged my chin on the tub and needed stitches (5 years old). One on each hand from when I cut them open on a field trip (6 years old, one needed stitches). One in my eyebrow that's fairly noticeable from when my brother hit me with a lunchbox (needed stitches). One on my knee from where I had MRSA in high school.

66. favorite flower(s)?

forget me nots or irises

67. good luck charms?

I used to carry around a little twisted up bit of copper wire from a close friend. Now if i really think i need it, I've got a little charm amulet thing i made with ancient runic charms.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Sunny D maybe? Beets? Coconut?

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

Male bees' testicles explode when they ejaculate. There's an audible pop.

[bbeelzemon]

tired old lesbian

[hornime]

watch and learn | iwaizumi hajime x f!reader x team japan

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

warnings: 18+, timeskip!everyone, BIG MANGA SPOILERS BASICALLY, exhibitionism, voyeurism, orgasm denial

w/c: 3.1k

a/n: now i don’t know if iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer learned about female orgasms when he was studying sports science at irvine BUT he def knows how to show a girl a good time which is reason enough for me to write this. also, i read this article to prep for this piece and it was super enlightening, so i do recommend giving it a read if you’re interested!

in the middle of his morning run, iwaizumi slowed momentarily to check the repetitive buzzing of this phone, curious as to who was messaging him this early. when he’d left the apartment, you were sleeping, and you had the tendency to still be sleeping by the time he returned, so who else could it be?

he unlocked his phone, quickly finding the source of the notifications: the team japan group chat.

[06:43 AM] miya: hey @iwaizumi—you know stuff abt the human body right?

[06:43 AM] miya: cus like you studied it in college and shit??

iwaizumi rolled his eyes. i spent four years in america to earn my degree, came back home to support my country’s olympic team, and dealt with the biggest idiots of volleyball, only to get treated like this?

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: yes, miya. i took many courses on the human body. in fact that’s the purpose of my job. to know the human body. because i am a fucking athletic trainer.

[06:44 AM] miya: okay okay i get it. dumb question

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: why? is something up? you need help or anything?

[06:44 AM] miya: uhhh kinda

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata i’m not fucking asking this

[06:44 AM] bokuto: bro just do it

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata @hinata @hinata 

iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow. what the hell are they going on about?

[06:45 AM] iwaizumi: so am i needed or...

[06:45 AM] hinata: YES

[06:45 AM] hinata: we had a question

[06:46 AM] sakusa: by “we” he means him, miya, and bokuto

[06:46 AM] suna: yeah don’t bring us into this

[06:46 AM] hinata: don’t listen to them! both suna and sakusa wanna know too

[06:46 AM] iwaizumi: okay. what’s up

[06:47 AM] hinata: we wanted to know how to make a girl cum

he chuckled in disbelief.

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: you’re telling me that you guys are in your mid-20s, literal olympic athletes, and you don’t know how to make a girl cum

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: have you never done it before??

[06:47 AM] miya: NO

[06:47 AM] miya: FOR THE RECORD IVE MADE MANY GIRLS CUM

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ME TOO

[06:48 AM] bokuto: i think

he laughed out loud, briefly startling another runner on the sidewalk.

[06:48 AM] iwaizumi: you guys are unbelievable

[06:48 AM] hinata: i mean she says she finished but idk what i did to make that happen

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ^^

[06:48 AM] hinata: so like i wanna know how to actually do it

[06:48 AM] suna: actually im kinda interested in this too

[06:48 AM] aran: i pray for your future girlfriends. this is painful to see. im out

[06:48 AM] kageyama: i’m with aran on this one. you guys are dumb

[06:48 AM] hinata: shut up. you suck.

[06:48 AM] miya: cmon iwaizumi, help a guy out

[06:48 AM] sakusa: it wouldnt hurt for you to give us some pointers at least

iwaizumi sighed.

[06:49 AM] iwaizumi: @miya @hinata @bokuto @suna @sakusa meet in the locker room after practice. ill give you guys a lesson in the art of pleasing a woman

to teach effectively, he needed a volunteer, though he was sure you wouldn’t need much convincing. you’d always loved the attention, and the biceps, of the pro athletes. he spun on his heel and jogged home.

you woke up to the sound of your apartment door opening, your boyfriend creeping inside, forehead damp with sweat.

“hey,” you said quietly, making your way towards him.

“hey, baby. sorry for waking you up, i was trying to be quiet.”

you giggled sleepily. “s’okay, haji. you spoil me too much anyway, always letting me sleep in for hours while you’re off doing god knows what.”

at that, his eyes crinkled in amusement, and as you tried to step into a hug, he shuffled back. “woah there, baby. i gotta shower, ‘m all gross from my run. and then,” he gave you a peculiar look that you couldn’t quite place, “i got a proposition for you.”

after his shower, he waltzed out of the bathroom, steam wafting out from behind the door. his tanned body made you feel things you definitely shouldn’t be barely an hour after the sun’s risen, and you reached out to massage the tension in his shoulders. “so, what’s your proposition?”

“well,” he hesitated. “it’s a bit... unconventional. the team asked me to show them how to make a girl cum,” he took in your intrigued expression. “and it’d be a lot easier to explain if i had someone to do a live demonstration with. so,” his eyes flicked up to you. “that’s where you’d come in.”

“a... live demonstration? like you’re gonna make me cum in front of them?”

“yeah, essentially.” he gave you a devilish grin. “you want that, baby? wanna show those boys how a real man treats a gorgeous woman like you?”

you rubbed your thighs at his words. “yeah,” you purred. “i do. wanna show them how good you are to me.”

and that’s how you found yourself nestled between iwaizumi’s muscled thighs, back pressed against his chest, completely naked, with five of japan’s best volleyball players staring at your body in awe.

practically an expert in his field, iwaizumi knew the human body inside and out. this had many benefits; of course it allowed him to catapult up the ranks and work with the country’s best athletes to keep them at the top of their game, but it also had a unique side effect: an overwhelming vault of knowledge on how to make a woman feel good anywhere. 

you’d seen the proof firsthand; he knew exactly where to push, prod, stroke, and tease to have you cumming in seconds, over and over, as many times as you wanted. he was amazing, and you were well-aware just how lucky you were to have such a talented man in the sheets.

“oi,” iwaizumi snapped his fingers, drawing each of the players’ eyes away from your glistening cunt. “pay attention. i know more than anybody that she’s hot as fuck, but you gotta listen to what i’m saying or else there’s no point to this.”

he lightly pressed his lips against your collarbone, slowly tracing them against your jaw, the contact making you squirm. “if you wanna make a girl cum, first thing you gotta do is make her comfortable. if she’s worried about how she looks or sounds or smells she’s gonna be too stressed to let go.” he moved his hands to grope your tits, his calloused fingers brushing over your hardening nipples. “so reassure her, tell her how irresistible she is, how pretty her moans are, how tasty her pussy is. shit like that. the sexier she feels the better it’ll be.”

he leaned into you, whispering into your ear. “feeling good, baby? we can stop whenever.”

you nodded weakly, afraid to open your mouth, barely holding in your whines as his palms worked wonders on your chest and stomach, sending shocks of heat wherever they touched. 

you craned your neck up to observe the men before you. atsumu was flushed red, wringing his hands as if he was worried they’d do something embarrassing if he didn’t keep them occupied. hinata was bouncing his leg up and down, wiping his palms on his shorts as he took in the plushness of your thighs. bokuto was basically drooling, greedily tracing your soft curves with his eyes. suna maintained his indifferent expression, but the reddening tips of his ears showed that he was a lot more hot and bothered than he let on. sakusa stood quietly to the side, leaning against the wall, mask tucked under his chin as if he’d just realized how much the temperature had gone up in the room.

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

"make sure to try different things; there’s multiple ways to make a woman cum. only like a quarter of women experience orgasms just from penetration,” someone made a sound of shock. “yes, the number is that small, bokuto.” 

his fingertip slowly trailed past your belly button, dipping into the mess between your thighs, causing you to slightly arch your back into the solid chest supporting you. “foreplay with the clit is your best bet; even stupid fucks like you probably wouldn’t screw it up too bad.”

hinata opened his mouth to speak, but iwaizumi anticipated his question and continued.

“i know you’re wondering where the clit is. it’s around here, under this hood of skin,” he slid his digit between your labia. “s’not gonna come with a label so you gotta explore a little bit. i know where hers is like the back of my hand, but for you guys, with your girls, you’re gonna have to move your fingers around. slowly. and pay attention to her expressions.” he began to rub in a circular motion around your clit, causing you to make small whimpers of pleasure and shift your hips to meet his movements. 

“if she clenches up or twitches when you feel a certain spot, like this,” your legs flexed as he increased the pressure, “that’s the clit. be kind, it’s not a volleyball. be gentle n’ make small circles, whether it’s with your fingers or your tongue.” 

he thought for a second. “speaking of which, oral’s important. very important. most women cum when they’ve been eaten out, so use your mouths for something more useful than just dirty talk. suck on the clit, maybe tongue-fuck her a ‘lil, but your main focus should always be the clit.”

he removed his hands from your sopping pussy, and you made a pathetic noise of frustration. “’m sorry, baby,” he muttered seductively in your ear. “don’t wanna have you finishing too early. lesson’s barely started.”

he turned his attention back to your audience, his lustful tone being replaced by a more instructional one. “there’s other places that’ll help a woman orgasm, too: her nipples, her neck, her ears—”

“her ears?” sakusa questioned. he blushed profusely as everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he’d opened his mouth. “what? we were all thinking it.”

“s’a valid question,” iwaizumi said. “yeah, you can lick ‘em if they’re sensitive. hers are.” as if to prove his statement, he licked a stripe on the shell of you ear, making you wiggle helplessly at the stimulation. “‘n leave kisses everywhere else. feels good for them just like it does for us.” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and forcing your movements to stop as he traced patterns with his tongue all around your neck.

“something you should know about an orgasm is that it’s something called a positive feedback loop.” he looked up and was met with five blank stares. shouldn’t have expected anything from these dumb jocks, he lamented. “basically that means that, once you start releasing sexual tension, things will feel better and better until you climax.”

“oh!” atsumu chirped. “like how my sets get better and better throughout a game.”

“no, not really,” he quipped. “your sets suck throughout.” atsumu frowned at that.

iwaizumi exhaled exasperatedly. “the general idea is that the body gets more and more sensitive, muscle contractions become more and more frequent, and touches feel more and more stimulating until you cum. all right?”

they all made noises of understanding except for bokuto and hinata, whose eyes had glazed over at the first mention of an academic term. whatever, iwaizumi thought. they’ll get it through example.

"don’t worry about it too much if you don’t get it, that’s just an orgasm on paper. in practice, though, this is the crucial step: listen to her. she knows what feels good. never forget that you’re just an idiot with a cock.” he took a breath, gathering his thoughts before proceeding with his lecture.

“if she tells you to slow down, you slow down. if she tells you to go harder, you go harder. if she tells you to keep doing what you’re doing, you...”

“keep doing what you’re doing”, they all chimed in at staggered times.

“that’s right. don’t go faster or else you’ll mess up the rhythm and she won’t cum. and you wanna make her cum, don’t you?”

they nodded simultaneously.

“so if you keep up the tempo and force that feels good to her, you’ll be fine. questions?”

suna spoke up. “what about,” he choked on the word. “penetration?”

hinata hummed in agreement and bokuto jumped in. “yeah, what if i wanna make her cum on my cock?”

iwaizumi made a weird face. “that’s some pretty advanced stuff, but i guess i can go over it. when you try it, though, you have to be patient. with both of your bodies. s’not rocket science but s’not always easy. also it depends on the woman but sometimes she physically won’t be able to finish from penetration alone. just make sure you’re communicating.”

his swirled two fingers over your hole before shoving them in, your wetness making it easy for him to thrust in and out as your entrance stretched to accommodate him. “f—fuck!” your eyes flew open at the intrusion and you body lurched forward, but you were held back by his strong forearm. “ohmygod, oh my g—ah! feels s’good haji, s’good!”

“i know, baby, i know. you’re taking it so well.” he turned his attention back to the men, each of who were gulping heavily. if that didn’t signal to you that they were evidently affected by your moans, the way they shifted in their workout shorts did.

“boys, focus.” he curled his fingertips, brushing at the spongy spot at the top of your walls, ripping a pleasured wail from your throat and causing tears to prick at your eyelashes. “when you’re fingering her, you’ll feel an area inside that’s a bit soft and squishy. that’s the g-spot.”

you trembled in his arms as he mercilessly struck the same place over and over again with his fingers. “when you’re fucking her, try to keep the pressure building there, but it’ll be harder to make her finish since you can’t see what you’re doing.”

your breath hitched as iwaizumi’s incessant movements brought your body tantalizingly close to your release. he suddenly stopped and you almost sobbed in disappointment, until he plunged his fingers impossibly deeper.

a guttural scream of ecstasy came from within you, and your eyes rolled back as he began playing with another part of you, your body putty in his hands. “hngh, haji, ah! so good, s’good...” you threw your hands back around his neck, nails digging into the skin as you desperately tried to keep yourself grounded. your soft moans filled the air.

“stop clenching,” he hissed. “can barely move my hand.” you tried to relax but failed miserably as the tips of his fingers grazed your cervix. 

“holy fuck,” suna muttered. “you’re a god.”

“she sounds so pretty,” atsumu said in amazement.

“i wanna make a girl feel good like that, too!” bokuto sulked.

“you can do it, bokuto!” hinata hit him on the arm. “just listen to iwaizumi. clearly he knows what he’s talking about.” 

their eyes refocused on your figure, writhing in pleasure, prompting white hot waves of arousal to pool in their stomachs. 

“yeah,” sakusa said. “clearly.”

“stop talking,” iwaizumi ordered. “and listen. beyond the g-spot is the cervix, which is basically the end of the vagina. if you’re long enough,” he briefly scanned each of their faces, “which i’m sure you are, you’ll be able to reach it if you bottom out.”

“haji—hajime, please.” the stimulation was coming absolutely unbearable, and you could tell he was sadistically holding you at the edge, refusing to give you the satisfaction of finishing. “lemme cum, please. please lemme cum, please, please, i can’t—i can’t take it ‘nymore!”

“what was that? you can’t take it anymore? gonna cum?” you helplessly bobbed your head up and down, hoping that he’d give you permission. “well,” he growled, “we can’t have that happening, can we?”

he abruptly halted his thrusts, pulling his fingers out of you with an embarrassing squelch and popping them into his mouth. pearly tears rolled down your cheeks as you grieved the loss of contact and relief.

your viewers looked on in horror, feeling immense sympathy for you; you just looked so dejected from being denied yet another orgasm.

“why didn’t you—why didn’t you let her cum?” bokuto asked.

“why do you think?” iwaizumi snapped. “don’t want you guys to see her when she does. that’s for me, and only me.”

“oh, okay,” he responded, disgruntlement clear in his voice.

iwaizumi’s glare could cut glass, it was so sharp. the possessiveness that had enveloped his mind made him hyperfocus on just one thought: being alone with you. “so, any other questions? if not, we’re done here.”

you pouted at that, not wanting the demonstration to be over. “but haji,” you mumbled into his collarbone. “i di’nt get to cum. and i wanna.” you looked up at him, eyes wide with want. “please make me cum.”

iwaizumi sent a harsh glance to the players that nonverbally communicated his message loud and clear: get out. they shuffled awkwardly out of the locker room due to the hardness between their legs that they would most definitely need to deal with soon.

your boyfriend turned his attention back to you. “’m sorry, i know i had to deny you a bunch of times. i just really hated the idea of anyone but me seeing the cute way you look when you cum.”

you made a small noise of acknowledgement and a little whisper of it’s okay, haji. he looked down, sensing the way your poor, desperate cunt was pulsing around nothing, the erotic sight injecting him with the pure need to ravage you.

he shifted his head to kiss you passionately. “why don’t i make it up to you?” he breathed between your parted lips before picking you up by the backs of your thighs, forcing you to lock your ankles around his waist. 

he delicately situated you onto one of the recovery beds at the back of the room, before murmuring something that made your pussy throb in anticipation: “i’ll make you cum whichever way you want, however many times you want, all right? all you gotta do is lay back and take it.”

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

[yesimwriting]

Crossing lines

General Kirigan/the darkling x reader

Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha

a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!! 

-- 

Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread. 

But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing. 

Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly. 

General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed. 

The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds. 

I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way. 

When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night? 

I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark. 

I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan. 

Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer. 

I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.

“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty. 

I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.

“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.” 

I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.” 

He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.” 

And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?” 

Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.” 

I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down. 

I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”

He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.” 

There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting. 

“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit. 

Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?” 

The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.” 

He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” 

The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.” 

I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.” 

That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.

I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?” 

“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”

This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.” 

“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.” 

“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.” 

At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.

“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second. 

“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?” 

There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.” 

“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.

There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?” 

He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.” 

“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.” 

My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.” 

I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t. 

Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone. 

“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways. 

He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.” 

Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place. 

Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more. 

“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.” 

He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.” 

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.” 

The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his  hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.

He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me. 

“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches. 

His fingers press more firmly into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.” 

“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.” 

If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.” 

“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.” 

...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.” 

“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.” 

His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him. 

The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact. 

“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.” 

I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not. 

He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…” 

“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?” 

His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.” 

“More than I should?” 

Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.” 

His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?” 

There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”

“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.” 

“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.” 

“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”

“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?” 

Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”

“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.” 

Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it’s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--” 

His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.” 

Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.” 

“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.” 

He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.” 

This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh. 

“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.” 

My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown. 

Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.” 

“Kirigan--” 

“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.” 

His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear. 

“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it. 

He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before. 

I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”

He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.” 

His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”

“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”

When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine. 

“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.” 

Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip. 

One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.” 

A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly. 

“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more. 

Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.” 

Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.” 

No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise. 

“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.” 

“I’ll tell the others, General.”

Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived. 

“I have to go.” 

Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.

He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.” 

Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--” 

“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.” 

This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?” 

“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.” 

My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible. 

 He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is. 

“Soon,” he promises again. 

--

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[wizkiddx]

ohmyword if your doing req can u pls do another fluffy, domestic one bcos honeymoon morning is some i read daily AHAH maybe like the reader gets ill and toms away or something???? pls just anything fluffy

awh thank you for being so sweet abt honeymoon morning - I do think that's one of my favourite concepts ive done!! and I hope this suits what you want, im not so sure myself but I tried :)))

summary: you try to hide being ill from Tom before he leaves but inevitably it doesn't all go to plan

warnings: mentions of being sick, I think that's all - basically just fluff 

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

The night hadn’t really gone typically at all. Instead of relishing the last night with Tom for a few months, your body seemed to have different plans. Hence why now you were curled up in a ball on the sofa, staring blankly at the TV, while the washing machine whirred next-door in the utility room and the chemical smell of cleaning products enveloped the downstairs. At least when you were sick, you were a clean sick. 

You were also a quiet sick. You had been pulled from your sleep by the uncomfortable heavy sensation from your stomach barely an hour after you’d both headed to bed. Why was beyond you - what had been important in that moment was to get away from Tom. He was flying back to set tomorrow (or given the early hours currently, lunchtime today was more appropriate) and only had a single day to settle before launching back into filming. So the poor boy was inevitably, given time zones, going to be running on poor quality plane sleep for the next couple of days - you wanted to five him a final night of peace, at least. 

As a result, you’d crept downstairs and since then spent a large chunk of the night making good friends with the downstairs toilet bowl. Once you were absolutely certain there was literally nothing else in your stomach, you chucked some bleach down the loo; then stripped your *stained* pyjamas and chucked them in the washing machine; changed into some freshly washed stuff in the utility (comprising of joggers and one of Tom’s hoodies); before you could curl up in the corner of the sofa. 

And that’s how you’d been for an hour or so. Still feeling grim, unable to fall asleep as much as you were trying to and generally just lying in a ball of self pity. And that was fine… until you heard the unmistakable slow padding of footsteps down the stairs. 

“Love?… -hy’re you up?” His voice was drenched in sleep, making it pull on your heart strings, even before he had rounded the sofa and come into view. Dressed only in his heather grey joggers only, Tom’s curls sat ontop of his head wildly - sticking up at all ridiculous angles. And then there was his puffy eyes, barely open as he slowly processed the sight of you curled up on the sofa. 

“Just couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to keep you up tossing and turning. Why are you up bub?”

“Don’t sleep good without you… you know kicking me and stealing the duvet and stuff.” Never one to maintain a level of seriousness and ‘soppiness’ - it was instantly turned back to the typical relationship of the two of you. While rolling your eyes, you still chuckled at him in the low light of the TV. Tom took the opportunity to perch on the edge of the sofa, sitting so he was grinning loopily down at you. “You fancied putting a wash on too?” 

“...I don’t know just trying to be productive?” He was catching on, he was suspicious. You could tell. His eyebrows furrowed together and he delicately hovered the back of his hand over your forehead, feeling the undeniable heat radiate into his skin. 

“And bleach?”

“Toilet needed doing anyway.” You mumbled, head turning to stare back at the TV- knowing his eyes were piercing into your soul. He sighed, in your peripheries you could see him shaking his head in slight frustration, as his hand reached for yours, giving it a squeeze. 

“You’re ill aren’t you?”

“I’m alright-“ he cut you off with a low warning of your name, making you cower slightly because he’d caught you in a lie. “I threw up a couple times but now I just feel a bit ‘eugh’”. That was, to be fair, a completely truthful description of your evening and current situation. Maybe not put most eloquently but Tom definitely got the messsage, somehow reading your mind by lightly massaging your abdomen with his hand that wasn’t clasped with yours. 

“Come on... let’s get you back to bed.” As much as you wanted to argue with him, it was clear any attempt would be futile. One of things you love so much about Tom is how fiercely protective he is of those dear to him. His circles progressively shrunk as he learnt who he could trust and who ... well he couldn’t. The culling had left a handful of people who were almost central to Tom’s life - somehow you’d managed to wangle your way into these select few too. 

So no, there was not point arguing or suggesting he puts his own welfare first. 

After putting you back int the double bed, Tom had disappeared for 10 minutes or so, when he reinterred the room it was clear he’d been busy. His tongue was stuck out in focus as he tried to balance different mugs and plates on a tray to you. Even if you felt shitty, for a moment by just seeing how far this guy had gone for you - you’d never felt better. 

“Okay there’s some lemsip with honey to settle your stomach, water and a slice of toast just because you should probably see if you can keep something down.”

“You really are the sweetest.”

“And you’re the illest so get drinking love.” He laughed softly in the yellow glow of the bedside lamps that illuminated the room. It highlighted his prominent jaw line and the way his eyes crinkled in the corners and given your slightly off state, you might’ve spent a bit too long ogling at the man cosied up next to you. Never would there be a time you weren’t grateful for him. 

Turns out you couldn’t keep the toast down but the experience was somewhat less horrific - this time you were spilling your guts out into your ensuite, while Tom held your hair and rubbed your back. Eventually things settled, allowing The two of you nestle back into bed, Tom wrapping his arms round your stomach to lightly trace random patterns on the skin underneath your hoodie - as you nestled back into his chest more. 

“I really love you Tom”

“Love you darling, now get some rest and shout if you need anything.” You hummed lightly, almost letting go to sleep now your felt a bit less like your intenpstines were wringing themselves together. But not quite. 

“I’m gonna miss you and your stupid face.”

“We can talk about that when your better” It was as if Tom thought whispering and drawing circles on your stomach was going to deafen you to his words. Yes your stomach wasn’t having a lot of fun and you were tired - but you were not deaf. It was oh so predictable too, he loved to be absolutely ridiculous. Indignantly you huffed, rolling over and eyeing him intently. 

“What’s there to talk about?” 

“Just…. Just if your sick you shouldn’t be on your own. I could always just-“

“No no you couldn’t. You and me both know for a fact you do have a choice and even if you did it be pissing off a hell of a lot of people.” He pouted, you could tell even in the darkness of the night. 

“I hate having to leave you though, especially like this.”

“Yes but you love your work too. I’ll be here when you get back… maybe just with a bit less intestines.” Laughing at that, Tom pulled you onto his chest, pressing his tips to the crown of your head as your burrowed into his side. 

It can’t have taken more than 5 seconds for you to fall asleep, exhausted from the illness, the stupid time in the morning and maybe slightly for dealing with Toms idiocy.  

You were awoken in the morning to Tom stroking your hair gently, all dressed and ready for his flight - but still finding the time to fuss over you and wanting to say a proper goodbye. After practically ordering his to leave… you best believe he dropped in the fact he’d got both Sam and Harry to come round as your babysitter. 

He was an idiot. But he was your kind, caring , beautiful and loving idiot. 

[hongism]

give and take - k.ys, j.wy, k.hj 18+

pairing; wooyoung x yeosang x hongjoong genre; angst, smut, 18+, the angst isn’t bad i swear it’s temporary wc; 16.8k summary; watching the two people he has feelings for come together in a relationship that holds some of the greatest moments of intimacy. and sure, yes, yeosang acknowledges that it could be something purely physical for them, but that doesn’t negate the fact that the two people he has feelings for are fucking and have been fucking right under his nose for the last several weeks. warnings; explicit smut, fingering, oral sex: m, dirty talk, praise, lil degradation, slight exhibitionism and voyeurism, explicit smut, multiple orgasms, come sharing, masturbation, handjobs, threesome, sub woo, sub yeo, dom joong, yaknow the works an; happy belated valentine’s day! i hope you all enjoy muahmuah xx also this is grossly unedited im sorry but my internet is gonna go out again at any second and i just wanna post this ;;-;

﹊﹊﹊

It starts, as many things do, with a little bit of jealousy. And honestly, Yeosang could not for the life of him tell you what exactly that jealousy was in the slightest (at least that is what he tries to convince himself on nights where his thoughts all but consume him). He was not the first to notice the sudden dynamic shift between Hongjoong and Wooyoung, and he was positively certain that the others would catch up soon enough. He was the third to detect the shift in their demeanors around each other; Seonghwa obviously being the first since he’s so close with Hongjoong and apparently has to vacate his own bedroom whenever Wooyoung disappears inside. Jongho, the ever-observant and perceptive youngest, was the second to notice, and he is actually the one who prompted Yeosang to take a deeper look into what was going on.

At first, Yeosang thought nothing of it. Hongjoong and Wooyoung had been getting closer, moving past those first fumbling awkward moments they had in the beginning and blossoming into a closer relationship. It seemed only natural for the two of them to spend more time together. Then Jongho pulled him aside one day after Wooyoung quite deliberately turned down the opportunity to play games with San and Yunho. 

“What’s going on with Wooyoung-hyung and Hongjoong-hyung?”

Yeosang had blinked dumbly at the younger and made some sort of dumb noise asking why Jongho would be bringing the question to him of all people, then it sunk in that of course he would bring it to Yeosang. Yeosang is both the one who has known Wooyoung the longest — and is subsequently the closest with the younger brunette — as well as Wooyoung’s roommate, so he spends a considerable amount of time with the man.

“He’s not mentioned anything to me?”

Yeosang cursed himself then for sounding so dumb and unsure, but it was the truth in the very least, and Jongho gave a slight shrug before walking away with a shady ‘maybe you should pay closer attention, hyung’ that left Yeosang glaring at the spot where the youngest just stood. 

Pay closer attention to what?

Yeosang didn’t have any idea what exactly he was supposed to be paying attention to, so he just did what he thought he did best, which was observing from the sidelines. One good thing about being quiet by nature was being able to examine conversations and interactions with greater care, as well as listen in on things that perhaps he should not be listening to but sometimes the others are just too loud for him not to overhear.

After Jongho mentions it to him though, Yeosang truly does start picking up on things. How Hongjoong snaps at Wooyoung in practice only to give him a twisting smirk afterward, how Wooyoung side-eyes the leader before dipping into the bathroom on movie nights, and especially how Hongjoong always waits three minutes and forty-five seconds before getting up to head down the hall proclaiming to need ‘sleep’. Yeosang is positive the two are doing something behind everyone’s backs — well everyone except Seonghwa, because the eldest always stares after Hongjoong’s back as the man departs with a look in his eye that Yeosang is incapable of placing. 

The most important thing is that Wooyoung is spending less and less time with Yeosang, and consequently, Hongjoong too is spending less time with Yeosang. And the visual truly didn’t think there was anything wrong with it at first. He wasn’t bothered or bent out of shape about the increase in their shady encounters or whatever it is they’re up to because he didn’t think it was too out of the ordinary. 

Then Wooyoung asked for a raincheck on their typical Thursday evening ramen stop. Yeosang saw him darting off to the studio moments after, and he didn’t return to their shared room until Hongjoong did. (Yeosang definitely did stay up waiting for either man to return; he didn’t need the confirmation, of course, he could have just assumed, but what’s several hours of lost sleep to him now?)

And after that, Hongjoong canceled one of their producing sessions together saying that he was simply too busy that day to check in on Yeosang’s progress. He had promised to look over his work and listen to his song when they returned to the dorms, but when Yeosang packed his things and left the studio for the day, he saw a very distinctly Wooyoung-shaped figure dipping into Hongjoong’s studio behind him. 

Yeosang thought he wasn’t one to get jealous. He thought he had learned that lesson the painful way when Wooyoung started casting him to the side to spend time with San instead of him, then when Hongjoong and Seonghwa called him out for the behavior, the issue had been resolved and Wooyoung returned to giving him ample amounts of attention. So truly, Yeosang cannot understand why he feels the small stirrings of jealousy in his gut whenever he sees Wooyoung running to Hongjoong. And even worse are the nagging jealousies that come when the leader is the one to seek Wooyoung out. Yeosang cannot for the life of him rectify that one, because why is he jealous of his best friend for simply spending time with Hongjoong?

He cannot admit it out loud, but in the nights where he finds himself staying up late and waiting for Wooyoung to return with Hongjoong, he thinks deeply about those curling tendrils in his gut. 

Yeosang has come to the conclusion that for once in his life, he does not like this because it makes him feel like he is missing out on something. That is a startling realization in and of itself because Yeosang has never been one to care much about those sorts of things — it just isn’t in his character or personality — so at first he denied that possibility and tried to look to other sources. When nothing else could ever make sense in his mind, Yeosang just had to accept that this was a new and growing feeling to work through. And perhaps it has something to do with the other emotions swirling through his gut that he refuses to name.

Which lands him where he is now: outside Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s door with hand raised and ready to knock on the wood. It isn’t Wooyoung and Hongjoong inside though, not at this time of day, but rather Seonghwa, the one who has the most amount of contact with Hongjoong and also the one who vacates the room whenever Wooyoung comes running over. So if anyone is going to be able to cure Yeosang’s illness that is Not Knowing What the Fuck is Going on, it will 100% be Seonghwa. Yeosang dares to bring his knuckles down on the wood and raps against the door several times before he hears Seonghwa make a noise from inside the room. 

“Hey, Woo, he’s not here right — oh, Yeosang!” Seonghwa blinks several times at the man before him as though he cannot believe that it is Yeosang and not his best friend standing in front of the door. “Are you looking for Hongjoong too? I’m afraid he’s still holed up in the studio right now.”

“W-What? No, no, hyung, I was looking for you,” Yeosang says with a quick shake of his head. Seonghwa’s eyes remain wide in surprise as he speaks, but once the words process, the older steps to the side and beckons for Yeosang to enter the room.

“Don’t be a stranger, of course, sit wherever you’d like. I was just reading a bit.”

Yeosang has no earthly idea how long this conversation might take. For all he knows, it could take a whopping two minutes or perhaps thirty minutes that falls into a lecture about jealousy and all that. So he resolves to perch on the edge of Hongjoong’s lower bunk, nudging one of the stray plushies to the side to make room for himself while Seonghwa pulls the chair from the desk to sit across from Yeosang. It already feels like something of an intervention, and Yeosang makes a note to choose his words very carefully to avoid sounding too upset or jealous about the situation. 

“Has Wooyoung mentioned anything to you recently?” He starts, but perhaps that isn’t the best place to start at all, he realizes once the question is already out.

“Is there something he is supposed to have mentioned?” Seonghwa asks, tilting his head further to the side. 

“No, like — that’s not what I mean. Has he said anything—” This is the moment of truth for Yeosang. Either Seonghwa picks up on his jealousy in an instant, or he receives a straightforward answer and moves on with his life with at least a bit of understanding. “—anything about why he’s spending so much time with Hongjoong-hyung these days?”

“Hm?” Seonghwa seems genuinely perplexed by the question for a considerable amount of time, eyes darting down to look at a spot on the floor as he mulls over the question. Then, he shakes his head a few times and draws his lips into a tight purse. “Not to me at all, no. Has something happened between you two? Is he not speaking with you? Did you have a falling out? If something happened the—”

“No, no, hyung, please,” Yeosang interjects in a rush. Seonghwa cuts his thoughts short with a small frown, and Yeosang knows he is going to have to offer more of an explanation than that to ease the older’s worries. There is a bit too much shame burning at his gut presently though, a nagging and lingering feeling of embarrassment as he realizes he will inevitably have to admit that he is jealous of all things. And that is going to be another issue because Seonghwa knows him almost better than Wooyoung does, and the older for sure knows that Yeosang is never one to be jealous. 

“It’s okay if the two of you are having issues, Yeosang. It happens to everyone, especially people who have known each other for as long as you and Wooyoung have. I’m not trying to insinuate anything of course, but I just want you to know that there’s nothing to be ashamed of if that’s the case.”

God, Yeosang wants to crawl into a tiny hole and die more than anything else right now because fuck this feeling.

“I’m just — I’m only asking because h-he turned San down the other night to spend time with Hongjoong. He has never done that. He and San are th-the closest and they never turn down the opportunity to spend time with each other, and it seems so odd that he would deny San so that he could spend time with‌ Hongjoong instead, and that’s just weird. It’s weird, and he doesn’t talk about it with me, he doesn’t mention it or anything like that, then he goes off and forgoes our plans together to be with Hongjoong too. And that’s fine, yeah, like they should spend time with each other, I don’t mind that part. Just… Hongjoong did it too and rain checked one of our producing lessons because he was apparently too busy with his own work and — and...”

Yeosang’s voice dies in his throat when he finally brings his gaze up to look Seonghwa in the eye, and the expression staring back at him is so raw and understanding that Yeosang cannot physically force any words out at that point. A small smile curls at the edges of Seonghwa’s lips, he huffs out a quiet laugh, and then his chin dips closer to his chest as the laugh overwhelms him. Yeosang, on the other hand, feels positively childish and stupid now that the admission is out there.

“I told them people would start noticing,” Seonghwa mutters more to himself than to Yeosang, but the younger picks up on the comment nonetheless. So he does know what’s going on between them. “Listen, Yeosang, yes, Wooyoung and Hongjoong are spending lots more time together. Yes, they are being a bit inconsiderate when it comes to the other members, but they are… at a phase in their relationship with each other where it’s easy to get caught up and spend unearthly amounts of time together. I have talked with both of them before about being a bit less persistent and intense, as well as prioritizing other people before themselves. But I am more than happy to talk with them about it again if it would help satiate your hurt feelings a bit?”

At least Seonghwa didn’t call him out on his jealousy. He should be grateful for that much. Why isn’t he grateful for that much? Oh, because of whatever the fuck Seonghwa’s rant is supposed to mean. ‘At a phase in their relationship with each other where it’s easy to get caught up and spend unearthly amounts of time together?’ What the hell is that supposed to mean? Seonghwa is still smiling like he knows, and Yeosang is fully aware that Seonghwa does truly know because there is that lingering odd emotion behind his eyes again that Yeosang despises so much.

“I — wait, what?” Yeosang’s brain is running on pure fumes at this point. The confusion has mounted into something immense, and he hardly remembers why he was so upset at this point now because of the bewilderment rushing through his system.

“I can talk with them again if you’d like?” Seonghwa repeats his previous offer, eyes wide as he blinks at Yeosang and awaits an answer.

“No, the — the part about their relationship?”

Seonghwa glances off to the side, and he seems to think over what he’s said before his eyes widen a bit in shock.

“A-Ah! Um, no, don’t — I don’t mean anything crude, of course!” Anything crude? Yeosang’s mind certainly wasn’t going down that path before but now that Seonghwa has mentioned that, it is now. And frankly, that throws him off more than anything else because he never would have assumed that that is what was going on behind those closed doors or anything. He has known Wooyoung swings both ways with little care since well before Wooyoung knew himself, and well, Hongjoong told the whole group that he’s pansexual when they chose him to be the leader because of transparency and honesty or some shit like that but... still. Yeosang would expect something like that to happen between Wooyoung and San but with Hongjoong? He can’t even imagine that — not that he wants to imagine it! He would never do that!

Yeosang’s cheeks flush a deep red when he realizes what Seonghwa means, and the older in turn figures out that Yeosang’s mind was indeed not traveling down that path and he has just caused it to. It’s a disaster, truly, and neither of them seem put together enough to even try to recover the situation. All Seonghwa does is push up from his chair and move towards the door. Yeosang doesn’t have time to wonder what the hell he’s doing or if he’s preparing to kick Yeosang out because when Seonghwa opens the door, it’s Wooyoung who stumbles in with a huff.

“Hyung,” he whines through a pout, not even taking notice of Yeosang’s presence on the edge of Hongjoong’s bed. “He sent me back here and said to wait another hour for him to come home. A whole hour!”

Seonghwa bears a strained smile, and he must look over in Yeosang’s direction because only then does Wooyoung shift and take note of the other presence in the room.

“Oh shit, were you guys — do I need to leave?”

“No, Woo, we were just having a chat,” Seonghwa insists, waving the younger man in. Wooyoung regards his best friend with a wary stare that has Yeosang’s stomach turning in knots several times before he swallows the feeling down. “Um, but since you’re here, this is the perfect opportunity to chat! Between the two of you!‌ So why don’t I step out and—”

“No, hyung, it’s okay.” Yeosang is the one to utter the words, and he does so as he pushes to his feet and away from Hongjoong’s bed. This is not what he came here to do, and yes, Seonghwa is right: they should talk, Yeosang should be honest about his feelings, but he also knows Wooyoung. He knows Wooyoung will whine and complain about Yeosang being too clingy or pointless jealousy or roll his eyes and unintentionally make Yeosang feel even worse about how he feels because that is just the way the other man is. It’s not from a bad place or a toxic place, merely Wooyoung’s way of handling issues, and inevitably Wooyoung will come crawling back to Yeosang’s bunk and cuddle him for a week straight before even thinking to hang out with another member. But right now, that isn’t what Yeosang wants. Mostly because he does not want to acknowledge his jealousy or the fact that it isn’t solely directed at Hongjoong spending time with Wooyoung. It is also directed at Wooyoung who is taking away from Yeosang’s time with the leader. Yeosang needs to work out those feelings before even thinking to discuss the issue with either man.

Seonghwa fixes him a startled glance, one that flits back to Wooyoung’s form several times, but Yeosang ignores it in favor of walking towards the door and replacing Wooyoung’s spot in the doorway. The oldest doesn’t seem pleased with his avoidance, as evidenced by the way he clamps a hand down hard around Yeosang’s arm before he can fully step out. 

“I don’t want to have to play the parent and mediate between the two of you here,” he hisses more to Yeosang than to Wooyoung, but the youngest of the trio hears the words nonetheless and blinks over at his best friend with a bewildered expression. It’s then that Yeosang knows with full clarity that he is completely and utterly caught. Even if he tries to escape now, Wooyoung will come running after him and demand an explanation. “If he hears it from you then he’ll be more like to pull his act together and realize that I’m being serious.”

“Is something going on?” Wooyoung inquires at last, voice much fainter than it had been before. Yeosang manages to slip one glare in Seonghwa’s direction before he dares to face Wooyoung head-on. 

“I just came to ask hyung why you seem to be spending so much time with Hongjoong these days.”

And Wooyoung has the nerve, he has the audacity, to actually look startled by that statement. Like he cannot believe that someone has caught on and realized how much time he’s spending with the leader, and he cannot believe Yeosang would go to Seonghwa of all people for answers. When Wooyoung shifts to look at the oldest, Yeosang doesn’t miss the way he sends a panicked expression of ‘what the fuck did you say to him’ and that’s when Yeosang’s mind really spirals.

At this point, he just wants to know what the fuck is going on so he can push his mind away from the gutter, but Wooyoung’s flushed cheeks and nervous glances are doing nothing to deter Yeosang from having the thought that perhaps Hongjoong and Wooyoung are spending their time together in a more intimate manner and he really needs to —

“He’s bothered by the fact that you keep shrugging him off for Hongjoong,” Seonghwa states, bringing Yeosang’s rampant thoughts to a screeching halt in an instant. “Which I told you both about before but you insisted th—”

“Hyung, it’s really okay, I just meant it as a harmless question, I’m not — it isn’t a big deal.” 

“Is this about me rain checking you on Thursday?” Wooyoung asks. He points an accusatory finger in Yeosang’s direction, and the older of the two is certain that he doesn’t mean it in an accusatory way but he feels pinned and cornered by the gesture either way. “Yeo, I’m really sorry about that. I just wasn’t feeling up to going out that day and—”

“But you went to hyung’s studio right after and didn’t come back until Hongjoong-hyung did,” Yeosang counters before he can stop himself. That lingering bitterness returns to his gut as he mentions the memory, along with the subsequent memory of Hongjoong pushing him to the side for time with Wooyoung.

“In the studio?! Are you two out of your minds?!” Seonghwa hisses and reels on Wooyoung, who blinks back like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“It’s — Yeosang is right there, hyung! Can’t you save the lecture for later? Or go chew hyung’s ear off instead of mine? It was his idea!”

“His idea? His idea! Of course it was. Let me guess: he felt bad for pushing me out of the room so much?” Seonghwa scoffs none too quietly. The bigger picture is started to come together, the puzzle pieces are slotting into place, and Yeosang is edging dangerously close to what he believes to be the truth. 

He can’t stand the suffocation that comes in the air a moment later, almost like his own throat is trying to choke him and end him right then and there. So, he does the only logical thing he can think of and slips out of the open bedroom door as Seonghwa snatches Wooyoung’s ear and tugs mercilessly on the cartilage. The content of their argument is no longer important, not with the knowledge Yeosang has gotten so far, and it’s frankly stupid that he is even feeling so… whatever he is feeling right now. He wanted an explanation, he wanted to know what secrets they were hiding behind closed doors, and all the signs are pointing to one thing Yeosang doesn’t want to imagine.

Yeosang unfortunately doesn’t make it even a foot outside the door before he is running face-first into someone, and judging by the height of the person he nearly just clobbered to the floor, it has to be none other than Hongjoong. Yeosang steadies himself on the other’s shoulders to keep them both from tumbling, and he brings a shaky gaze to the person’s features in search of a confirmation.

Sure enough, it’s Hongjoong, alright. Beanie squishing his mop of hair down, thick black-rimmed glasses sitting atop his dainty nose, and a bag slung over his shoulder that must contain his producing equipment. Yeosang says the only thing he can think of, which seems to be a common trend with him today.

“You’re back early.”

Hongjoong regards him with an expression of confusion and bewilderment, then Yeosang realizes that Hongjoong only told Wooyoung that part so he shouldn’t really have that knowledge, but then again, what’s the big deal? Why should it be odd for Wooyoung to tell his best friend something about their leader? Is that a secret for just the two of them to know as well? Or can Seonghwa be included in their little secret circle too?

“Yeah, I — I thought I would be able to focus but I kept getting distracted so I just packed up and came home to work on stuff instead.”

Yeosang dares to ask.

“Can I come by and work with you on some stuff then?”

“A-Ah, maybe in a bit? I’ll text you and let you know. I really need to hunker down on these…” Hongjoong trails off and rubs at the back of his neck. Yeosang doesn’t miss the way the older man glances off towards the door to his and Seonghwa’s bedroom. 

“Yeah, of course, hyung, no worries,” he forces out, adding a tight smile that he hopes will ease Hongjoong’s stress a bit. The older nods as Yeosang steps out of the way, heading into the bedroom without further ado. 

There is no real reason for Yeosang to stick around so he doesn’t; he merely heads for the living room and makes himself at home on the couch, perching on the cushions in a way that gives him a clear view directly down the hall. He has one more lasting curiosity, and he’s determined to get the answer right now rather than waiting god knows how long for the next opportunity. Thus, he waits. Two minutes pass, then ten, along with some slightly raised voices and Yeosang is sure that Seonghwa is chewing them both out in there, but he can’t make out anything of what they’re saying. Then after twenty long minutes, Seonghwa slips out of the room with a huff and a grumble, eyes rolling nearly to the back of his head, and he snaps the door shut behind him. He doesn’t even glance Yeosang’s way as he dips into the kitchen, although that’s probably because he’s covering his eyes with one of his hands and mumbling about always getting a headache because of those two. 

Still, Yeosang waits. Another two minutes meld into ten. Wooyoung still hasn’t left the confines of Hongjoong’s room. It’s odd and peculiar in his mind because Hongjoong insisted that he needed to focus, he needed to work, but Wooyoung has to be — and Yeosang says this as lovingly as possible — the most distracting human being on the face of the planet. 

It is enough to grab Yeosang’s attention by the horns and drive him to push up off the couch. He doesn’t think twice about what he is doing, that twisting and churning in his gut is the only thing on his mind right now, but he doesn’t stop his warpath until he reaches the end of the hallway where Hongjoong’s door sits on the right. A few seconds of precious silence pass, then he leans towards the wood and presses his ear to it. 

For a moment, he feels entirely too foolish because he doesn’t hear a thing other than the quiet clicking and tapping of what must be Hongjoong’s computer. He turns to leave with his chin tucked to his chest in shame at the thought of how certain he was they were doing something… something in there. Then there’s a quiet moan, followed by an airy giggle that can only be Wooyoung, and a sharply hissed ‘stop that’ from Hongjoong.

“But I’m having fun, hyung. Aren’t you having fun?”

“The only thing I’m supposed to be having is you sit still while I work. You promised to be good if I came home early.”

“And you promised to make me see stars with how hard you’d fuck me. That’s not happening right now either, is it? So why don’t we…”

Yeosang’s brain turns to radio noise. Television static. Microwave beeping. All three at once. Or is that an actual microwave beeping? Is Seonghwa cooking something? He has no clue. He can’t see straight either honestly, mind too overwhelmed with what he has just heard, and shaky legs carry him back to his own door before pushing him inside with as much haste as he can muster. 

Fuck me.

Wooyoung said the words with undeniable clarity. Yeosang shakes against the door, hand still clasped tight around the knob as though it will do him any good. 

Fuck. me.

It really shouldn’t be a big deal. Yeosang should not be bothered. It’s only natural and expected for men of their age to have pent-up sexual frustrations, and of course, they have every right to exercise those urges however they want. Given their orientations, they would slot together perfectly too so why, why, why is Yeosang so bothered right now? It’s shameful the way his jealousy twists further in his gut, and he slides down the door until he’s planted firmly on the ground with knees drawn up to his chest.

He feels so fucking foolish. Thinks back to all the times he and Wooyoung have cuddled and been in close proximity over the years. The way he tried to be daring and bridge the gap between them. The lingering curiosity of blossoming emotions in his chest. The moment he realized where he sat on the spectrum when Wooyoung’s laugh sent such intense feelings of pure love through his chest that Yeosang couldn’t look him in the eye for well over a week after. Hands searching for Wooyoung’s in the dark, clasping tight together, and the fleeting sensation of lips dragging over Yeosang’s knuckles. Breathy laughs exchanged in the dark, soft admissions of love that Yeosang refused to amount to anything more than a friendship but secretly — oh so secretly he wished for more. Wooyoung’s touchy affections that came in the form of sloppy kisses on the cheek and teasing bites to the neck and shoulder. Then came San. Wooyoung stealing away from him. Hands finding San’s instead, hugs and cuddles going to the other man as Yeosang fell further and further away without even trying to pull Wooyoung back. He watched him go without putting up a fight.

What did he do then? The only thing he thought was logical: seek out the member he has the most in common with, the one who seems to understand him better than anyone, one of the view who understands and appreciates his need for quiet moments of peace.

Hongjoong.

Late nights in the studios, backs hunched and aching as they bent over a computer and Hongjoong showed him the steps to his artistic process. Compliments shared in amazement and wonder because Yeosang could not fathom how incredible Kim Hongjoong could be, yet still the older managed to exceed any expectations like it was the easiest thing on earth. The pride that would swell in Yeosang’s chest when Hongjoong congratulated him on a job well done, when he would mention the younger on his lives, the excitement in his hyung’s eyes whenever Yeosang would pop his head into the studio late at night. Hongjoong clasping a hand over Yeosang’s own shaky ones as he practiced for a cover. Whispered praises and reassurances when Yeosang would miss a note or slip up. Slow patience that waited for him without fail. Yeosang hates that he was foolish enough to let those feelings of admiration morph into the desire to be close to Hongjoong all the time, to cling to him, kiss him, have him for himself. 

And he especially hates that he was never able to bury those dwindling emotions of love and affection he felt towards Wooyoung, because now? Now it’s like he is living a nightmare. Watching the two people he has feelings for come together in a relationship that holds some of the greatest moments of intimacy. And sure, yes, Yeosang acknowledges that it could be something purely physical for them, but that doesn’t negate the fact that the two people he has feelings for are fucking and have been fucking right under his nose for the last several weeks. He wishes he could be heartbroken or something along those lines because that would be a normal reaction. That would be typical and explainable and easier to manage than the sensation in Yeosang’s gut. In that moment, he gets some clarity that it is, in fact, not jealousy of either party. It’s a desire to be involved, a want to be there with them, and a need to be involved. Did he mistake it for jealousy? Every time he saw one running to the other, he thought it was merely envy that twisted his gut, but now… now Yeosang is coming to realize that it wasn’t envy or anything like that. He just wanted to be another piece in their puzzle because those two are the ones he’s closest to (and effectively has all too real feelings for), and it pains him so much that his eyes burn. 

There are tears on his cheeks now surely, but his body has entered an odd state of numbness that he can’t piece together and cannot bother to piece together either. He doesn’t think twice before pushing himself back up to his feet, hands shaky and unstable as he moves for the dresser and pulls out a fresh set of clothes, dead set on taking the bathroom and washing his feelings away in the shower. What Yeosang doesn’t account for, however, is someone being in the hall at the same time he is, and he runs face-first into a chest.

“Yeosang?”

Fuck, and it just has to be Yunho of all people too. The one who probably won’t let Yeosang get by without drawing all his worries out of him and making sure he’s alright. And no, he’s not alright, and he doesn’t really want to be right now, but Yunho doesn’t need to know that. So Yeosang shrugs off the hands that find a home on his arms and tries to step around Yunho to get to the bathroom that is so so close yet so far away because of the wall standing before him.

“Are you alright? What happened? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, leave it alone, Yun,” Yeosang mutters through his teeth. But apparently, he can’t have a moment’s peace because Seonghwa must have heard the litany of questions and gotten concerned as well, his voice coming up behind Yeosang like a cruel shadow.

“Yeosang? Is something wrong?”

Yeosang doesn’t turn around but he doesn’t need to because Seonghwa closes the distance between them and steals a glance around his shoulder nonetheless. Yunho seems to be in the dark still in the very least, but Seonghwa will most certainly be able to figure out the source of his tears.

“Yeo… this — how bad is it? This is why I wanted you two to settle it then and there!”‌ Seonghwa exhales. His brows draw together to form a tight line that pains Yeosang to look at.

“Settle what?” Yunho inquires, blinking between both men, and his grip on Yeosang’s arms finally relents in that moment of shock. Yeosang takes the moment of freedom like a lifeline and pushes past Yunho to dart into the bathroom without further ado. Neither man behind him can catch him before he snaps the door shut in their faces, twisting the lock and trapping himself in the small room.

“Yeosang!” Seonghwa calls through the door, and he brings his fist down on the wood as though it will do any good.

“Maybe we should give him some space, hyung…” Yunho’s voice fades into the static running through Yeosang’s mind, and he no longer processes their conversation as he cranks the handle of the shower to let the water heat up. The pain in his chest also dulls, but only when he lets hot water run over his bare back, forehead pressed to the tiled wall. 

Things are catching up to him now. Reality is seeping in and he is realizing all the things that have been happening behind their backs for the past several weeks. He blames his own imagination for the flashes that come through his mind as he tries to wash the feelings away. Wooyoung pressed under Hongjoong’s weight, fervent touches and lingering kisses. The same hands that held Yeosang’s dragging over the contours of muscles and skin, filling in the gaps that Yeosang wishes he could have filled. Or perhaps Wooyoung would curl himself into Hongjoong’s lap and hold the leader as close as possible as he so dearly loves to do with the others. 

Perhaps it is more intimate and special with the two of them, however, and maybe Hongjoong fucks up into Wooyoung like that, holds him close while he works in the studio, and maybe that’s what they do when Yeosang is turned away. He bets that Hongjoong praises Wooyoung too as he loves to give all the members a litany of praises whenever they do something well, and Yeosang’s desires turns ugly when he thinks of Wooyoung being praised for being good for Hongjoong, nice and pliant and perfect for him, and fuck Yeosang wants to be part of it so badly it hurts. He wants Wooyoung to stand off to the side and watch, wants his own best friend to see him fall apart under Hongjoong’s touch. Wooyoung is such a brat that he probably acts that way in bed as well, and Yeosang feels nearly light-headed as he imagines himself being the one to receive Hongjoong’s attention and subsequently Wooyoung’s as well like he would be some example for Wooyoung to follow on how to be good. 

Yeosang doesn’t feel disgusted by the thoughts but rather the way his own body responds to the images floating through his mind, the way his member reacts to it, and the temptation to reach down and stroke himself to completion is intoxicating. He cranks the water instead so that it’s nearly icy on his skin to keep his mind from wandering too much into the inappropriate territory even though it’s already there.

The cold is barely enough to stave off Yeosang’s churning gut because the sound of that quiet moan and Wooyoung’s delicate giggle are in his ears again even as he steps out of the shower and wipes the droplets away with a towel. It persists even when he leaves the bathroom, darting into the hall to make a break for his room in case anyone was outside waiting for him, but thankfully this time he has the hallway to himself and can make it to his shared room with Wooyoung without much issue. Yeosang only says ‘much’ because just before he opens the door, a noise carries down the hall and to his ears. One that is unmistakable but most likely only audible to someone like Yeosang who is standing in the hallway. 

Another moan. This one is much more high-pitched and strung out than the last, bordering on the territory of a squeal, and based on the all too loud thud that follows, Yeosang can picture what’s going on with too much clarity.

“Hyung!” Yeosang’s heart surges forward in his chest, and he whips around like someone else has spoken the word, but it’s very clearly Wooyoung’s tone. Nonetheless, Yeosang shoves himself into his bedroom and snaps the door shut behind him as quickly as possible, flipping the lock for good measure because his cock is too hard to be ignored now. Part of him wishes he had more willpower to avoid this, and yet he’s too weak in the end. 

Less than five minutes later, Yeosang finds himself curled under the sheets of his bunk, eyes blown wide open and staring at the ceiling above his head as he drags the flat of his hand over his cock. The friction is delectable at best but still not enough to satiate the arousal blooming in his gut. Arousal that only deepens when his mind recreates the images from earlier. This time he’s with them, imagining himself sitting off to the side as Hongjoong works on‌ Wooyoung’s body.

“Sit still and watch me punish him.”

Curse his imagination for being so potent that he can practically hear Hongjoong’s words on his ears.

“Touch yourself for us, Sangie, you know you want to,” Wooyoung would purr, still giggling even though he’s in trouble and about to be punished. 

Yeosang presses his palm down harder against his cock. He won’t last more than two minutes like this; he’ll probably come like a teenager in less than that if he jerks himself with too much haste. So he forms a tight ring around the base of his cock and squeezes just hard enough to stave off the heady sensation in his veins. He debates going down to grab the small bottle of lube from Wooyoung’s end table. That’s too much effort right now, he needs his release soon, and he frankly doesn’t have enough patience in his body at the moment to finger himself open.

“You’ll be good and come when Wooyoung does, won’t you, Sangie?”

He wants to so badly. He knows he would be so good under Hongjoong’s control, he would take anything given to him because he wants that so badly, he wants someone to take the control from his hands and be at their mercy. He wouldn’t fight it or talk back, he would be so good it hurts, and a weak mewl tumbles from his lips before he can stop it. 

Yeosang flings his free hand up to cover his mouth as though someone is going to hear the quiet noises, and when he presses the butt of his hand down again, more whimpers fall out. He can’t stop the noises nor does he try to any longer. The desire for a release is too overwhelming, mixed voices touching his imagination and seeming too real for Yeosang to handle as he ruts helplessly against his palm for that delicious bit of friction. And when he comes, he comes hard and fast, eyes rolling back in pleasure as his hips continue to cant up into his hand. He moans out Hongjoong’s name as he comes and doesn’t stop to think about quieting the noise this time in his fog of pleasure. Come spills over his palm only to be smeared over his skin when he can’t stop the movements of his hips. If he thought that would end the vision in his head, he was quite wrong, because after the haze covering his thoughts disperses a bit, it comes rushing back.

“I thought you said you’d be good for us, Sangie. You came before me.”

“I told you to come with Wooyoung, baby. Why couldn’t you do that simple task?”

“You always say that you’re going to be good for us, Sangie. Yet you can’t even seem to live up to those words.”

The tears that hit Yeosang’s cheeks next are ones that come from pure overstimulation and eustasy. Heat swarms his skin, a pretty pink blush that causes his whole body to flush, and his hips just don’t stop moving even as his mind cries out for a release from the self-inflicted torture.

“Pl-Please, Woo,” Yeosang whimpers to the air above him. “I’ll — I’ll be good. I’ll be so good, p-please.” It is all too much for him to handle right then because the next thing he knows, he is coming yet again, but it’s a painfully dry orgasm since he didn’t give himself any recovery time. He releases a choked sob that breaks into a strangled moan instead, then his hips finally rest and give his poor leaking member a break. The only thing that can leave his lips for several minutes is a series of gasps and pants, chest heaving desperately as he tries to catch his breath.

When he finally recovers, Yeosang pulls himself down from the bunk and strips once more now that he’s gotten the fresh set of clothes dirty and soiled. It’s as he is pulling a shirt over his head that the door handle jiggles to no avail.

“Sangie? Did you lock the door?”

Fuck. Wooyoung. He won’t have any knowledge of what Yeosang has just done, or that Yeosang knows what he was just doing himself, but the red hot shame burning in Yeosang’s gut. He just jerked off to the thought of his best friend and his hyung including him in their personal business. Yeosang doesn’t even know if either of them would be okay with such a thing, and yet —

“Yeosang? Are you in there or not?”

“S-Shit,” Yeosang exhales to himself, tugging his shirt the rest of the way and rushing to get to the door. He flips the lock and swings the door wide open to greet Wooyoung with wide eyes and mussed hair. Wooyoung’s hair is damp and clinging to his forehead; he looks fresh out of a shower, and Yeosang has no doubt that he and Hongjoong showered together after their… activities. “Yeah, sorry, S-Seonghwa-hyung wouldn’t get the hint that I didn’t wanna talk to him right now.” It’s only a partial lie, enough to cover what Yeosang was actually up to, and Wooyoung seems to buy it by the way he shrugs his shoulders quickly and brushes past Yeosang to get in the room. He doesn’t stay long, however, coming in simply to fetch his phone before darting back out of the room. Yeosang wants to ask where he is going, but at the same time, he can probably guess that it has something to do with San or Hongjoong again.

Yeosang doesn’t stay to watch him go. Instead, he dips back into their shared bedroom and shuts the door, intent to sleep through the rest of the day and push these lingering thoughts out of his mind. It’s only when Wooyoung returns hours later whining to himself about how San never lets him win a game that Yeosang dares to speak. He waits until his friend curls up in bed and gets comfortable, throat lodged with emotion.

“I…”

Wooyoung doesn’t offer even a noise of acknowledgment. Maybe he’s already fallen asleep. Perhaps Yeosang shouldn’t say anything or he should say this for another time, but right now he just wants to see. Test the waters. Gauge his reaction.

“I know about you and Hongjoong-hyung, Woo.” Curse him for stuttering when he did, and curse him for not having the balls to say it outright. How hard should it be for you to say to your best friend “I know you’re fucking our group leader under everyone’s noses”? Saying something cryptic like “I know what you’re doing with hyung” sounded too scary in Yeosang’s mind, but maybe he could have had a better approach. Especially since the bunk under his creaks and the sheets jostle, then a Wooyoung-shaped shadow darts across the room. The door swings open, Wooyoung slips out, then it slams shut, causing way too much noise for the hour.

Yeosang isn’t sure what he was expecting. He knows Wooyoung avoids confrontation. This should have been expected, yet as Yeosang curls onto his side and faces the wall, the tears that slip out his eyes are more painful than before, and he thinks vaguely in the back of his mind that Wooyoung doesn’t want him to have anything to do with the relationship he shares with Hongjoong.

Morning is awkward and stilted. Wooyoung most definitely went to Hongjoong’s room and told him what Yeosang said; Yeosang can see it in the way Hongjoong’s gaze slips between both boys throughout breakfast. He is a bit thankful that Hongjoong doesn’t look towards him with the same amount of fear and shame as Wooyoung did earlier, and there is no disgust or embarrassment in his stare either — only concern. Seonghwa is still worried about Yeosang’s crying in the hallway yesterday, as is Yunho because the dancer got Yeosang coffee and a plate of food, staying by his side all throughout breakfast with a hand placed over Yeosang’s thigh the entire time. The tension is palpable, and there’s no doubt that everyone knows something is wrong in some way.

Seonghwa keeps sending Hongjoong looks across the table, even as San and Yunho try to bring some energy back to the table and dispel the awkwardness. Those glances are probably the thing that prompt the leader to speak. And so, Hongjoong is the one to breach the subject, but he does it in a way that Yeosang could never have expected, and based on the way Seonghwa chokes on his syrupy coffee, the older had no clue this was Hongjoong’s plan either.

“Some of you have noticed that Wooyoung and I are spending a lot more time together these days.” Yeosang dares to look over at his friend, but the man is staring down at the table with cheeks so red and flushed that he’s nearly purple. “It’s because we’re fucking.”

There goes Seonghwa choking on his coffee, Mingi gags around a mouthful of rice, Yunho’s hand squeezes painfully on Yeosang’s thigh, San bites back a laugh and cheeky smile, and Jongho drops his spoon on the edge of the table in shock. Another clatter follows as the same spoon hits the ground, but Jongho doesn’t even move to pick it up and instead stares directly at Hongjoong like the leader like he’s just kicked a dog or something.

“Does anyone have a problem with that?”

Hongjoong’s gaze finds Yeosang immediately. Oh, so the question is targeted at him. Yet even as everyone else at the table denies there being any issue with such a thing, Yeosang can’t bring himself to shake his head or deny it. It’s not that he does have a legitimate issue with it, he merely wishes to slot himself in their space and be part of it. He can’t very well admit that over breakfast with the rest of the group though, especially not with how Wooyoung reacted last night. Hongjoong doesn’t wait for a response.

“Just because we have this relationship now doesn’t mean any of the group dynamics should or have to change. We are by no means exclusive or closed off to just each other. Understood?”

A chorus of affirmations greet Hongjoong, and Yeosang actually joins in this time despite the clench of his heart.

If Hongjoong expected the conversation to fix everything on a whim, then he would be sorely incorrect.

Wooyoung continues to avoid Yeosang. He won’t come into the room at the same time as Yeosang, only comes to sleep if San or Hongjoong kicks him out of their rooms, and is always either sleeping or gone by the time Yeosang gets up. Despite Yeosang constantly looking over at his friend, Wooyoung almost never looks back, and when he does, his expression twinges with something Yeosang would almost call guilt. He tries not to think about that bit too hard or too much.

Hongjoong, on the other hand, actually makes an effort to do things differently. He invites Yeosang to the studio much more often, asks him to accompany him as he picks up food for the rest of the group at least two times a week, and Yeosang finds himself frequenting Hongjoong’s room to work on producing practice a lot more as well.

Yeosang can’t complain because it’s what he wanted and missed so dearly, and he should be content that at least one of his crushes is giving him such devoted attention, but he is loathe to admit that part of his heart is dedicated to Wooyoung and Wooyoung only. That part is shattered in a thousand pieces every time Wooyoung sees him and turns to go in the opposite direction. He doesn’t last longer than a week with Wooyoung’s behavior, and the breaking point is a Saturday evening when Yeosang steps out of his room to see Wooyoung leaving Hongjoong’s with an unreadable expression. Hongjoong steps into the doorway right after, hand chasing Wooyoung’s and catching hold of it before the younger can dip out of his reach.

And now, Yeosang suddenly feels like he’s watching something that he shouldn’t be because Hongjoong places his free hand on Wooyoung’s cheek and leans his forehead against the other man’s, lips moving quickly and quietly as they speak to each other. Wooyoung nods several times before stepping back and turning around. His body tenses a bit as he sees Yeosang standing at the other end of the hall. They regard each other with equally wide eyes and lingering stares for several seconds before Hongjoong prompts Wooyoung to move by slapping the flat of his hand down hard on his ass. Wooyoung releases a startled yelp, cheeks flushing a dark red before he rushes to San and Yunho’s door and enters without even bothering to knock.

Hongjoong finally looks at Yeosang. The younger can’t describe the feeling that swoops through his gut, but Hongjoong is smirking at him and making him feel like that infinite space between their bodies is nonexistent. It’s like the man is standing right before him and cascading warm breath over his lips and neck, then he tilts his head to the side and motions towards his bedroom.

“Did you still wanna get some work done?”

Yeosang responds with a quick nod and dips back into his own room to snatch his phone up off the dresser before fully stepping into the hall to meet Hongjoong by his door.

“No laptop?” The older regards him with a curious stare even as Yeosang shakes his head a bit.

“Just wanna watch you work some, I think. If that’s okay?”

Hongjoong’s lips twist into a gentle smile, and warmth fills his gut.

“Of course, Yeo, come on.”

Yeosang half-expects the room to reek of sex and debauchery, or for the bed to be a wreck, but that’s not the case. Everything is almost too perfect by Hongjoong’s standards, like Seonghwa came through and raided the room before Yeosang stepped in. In fact, he’s almost certain that Hongjoong went the extra mile to change the sheets, but he doesn’t comment on it even as Hongjoong settles down in the bed and pats the empty space next to him. Yeosang climbs up beside him, heart in his throat and threatening to choke him out.

“I think I’ll be able to finish this one either today or tomorrow so I can submit it for the next album,” Hongjoong mutters. Yeosang watches with wide and careful eyes as he tugs his laptop into his lap, pulling the music file up to pick up where he left off. Yeosang is frankly not paying any attention to what’s happening on Hongjoong’s screen. He’s too busy looking at the man’s side profile, the way his brows draw together in concentration. Hoodie drawn over his head with headphones pressed over one ear and the other pressed further back on his hood.

“Hyung…” Yeosang trails off, unsure of how to voice what it is he’s after, and Hongjoong’s lingering stare only makes him more nervous. But then, the older shifts in the bed and presses his back further against his pillows. He lays his laptop to the side, for the time being, throwing his legs out, and Yeosang inhales sharply at the way Hongjoong motions to the space between them. Is he asking Yeosang to —

“Do you wanna lie down?”

Oh. Of course. Why would he think Hongjoong wanted something else when he and Wooyoung have each other for that? Still, Yeosang slips between Hongjoong’s legs and presses his head to the man’s stomach like it’s glass. Once he’s fully situated and comfortable, Hongjoong pulls his laptop back, placing it atop Yeosang’s stomach without missing a beat. The angle is a bit awkward on his neck, but Yeosang doesn’t complain because he gets to be this close to Hongjoong and in his arms like this. It’s practically intoxicating, and Yeosang almost feels light-headed by the time Hongjoong shifts their position to tug Yeosang further up on his chest, letting the younger drop his head into the crook of his shoulder.

Hongjoong doesn’t speak; he merely lets Yeosang rest against him like that with the familiar beat of his track playing faintly through his headset, and Yeosang watches on with less interest than usual as he drags things across the screen and into place. Then, after some unknown amount of time, Hongjoong decides to pipe up.

“When I talked to the group last week about Wooyoung and me, you were the only one not to say you were okay with the arrangement.” He murmurs the words softly, and Yeosang nearly doesn’t pick up on them at all. The moment they process though, he stiffens in Hongjoong’s hold. Although the man isn’t holding him there against his will, Yeosang feels somehow trapped and unable to escape.

“W-Wooyoung — he ran away from me.” Maybe that’s an exaggeration but the man did straight up bolt out of the room when Yeosang brought it up.

“He’s afraid that you hate him.”

That has Yeosang pulling himself forward, knocking Hongjoong’s hands away from where his laptop sits in Yeosang’s lap. Yeosang has enough decency to snap the laptop shut and push it to the foot of the bed before shifting to face Hongjoong. The look in the leader’s eyes is unreadable when they finally look at each other.

“Why would I hate him?”

Hongjoong merely lifts a brow in response. He seems to weigh his next words on his tongue and teases the corner of his lips a few times before deciding to speak.

“Do you not?”

“Of course not,” Yeosang mumbles. “I don’t hate either of you.” He dares to look towards Hongjoong once more, eyes finding the leader’s and searching for any sort of reaction but there isn’t much there. 

“Then why didn’t you come talk to me as well?”

“I figured…” Yeosang doesn’t really have a response for that. He was cowardly more than anything else and afraid of what sort of conversation they might end up having. “I thought you would want the conversation at breakfast to be the last of it.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to bring it up for the past week.”

“What?” Yeosang didn’t even have the slightest clue that Hongjoong was wanting to talk about it. Since everything fell back into their usual routine, he simply assumed that meant everything was fine.

“When you told Wooyoung that you knew about us, what were you referring to?”

Yeosang’s cheeks heat up a bit, and he has to drop his gaze to the bed.

“I heard the two of you… I heard — y-yeah.”

“Heard what?” Hongjoong presses again, and this time Yeosang releases an exasperated sigh.

“Christ, hyung, do I need to spell it out? I heard you both moaning a-and it didn’t take much to realize what you were doing!” That pulls a loud laugh from Hongjoong’s lips, and he throws his head back with the sound.

“That’s not what he thought you heard, Yeosang,” Hongjoong says through the laugh. Yeosang swallows hard in response, sitting back a bit more and straightening his back. “He thought you heard what came after that, which is why he’s been so avoidant with you.”

“What came after?” Yeosang echoes, instinctually gripping the sheets in his fists. Hongjoong’s lips stretch a bit further into a smile.  

“He also didn’t hear the noises coming from your room after because he was in the shower.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Yeosang is so fucked. Hongjoong heard that? What all did he hear? Yeosang remembers moaning Hongjoong’s name a bit too loudly, but he also said Wooyoung’s name, so which did he hear? Or did he hear both? How could he not say anything about it for an entire week?

“But frankly, I didn’t hear it either since I was with Wooyoung in the shower.”

Yeosang can hardly breathe at this point, eyes stuck and fixated on some point on the mattress, and that’s not what Hongjoong wants apparently because a single finger curls under the base of his chin. Hongjoong lifts his head until they can look each other in the eye again.

“Seonghwa told me that you had been crying before taking a shower yourself. Then after you came out, he went to check on you but your door was locked, and… he heard you inside moaning my name.”

“I-I can ex-explain. It’s not — it’s not what it looks like and I—”

“And Wooyoung’s.”

“Hyung, I…” Yeosang is fumbling to figure out what he can say to get himself out of this situation. This is probably the worst thing that can happen right now, and if Hongjoong knows, then Wooyoung most likely knows too and maybe that’s the real reason behind his avoidance these days. Maybe he’s so disgusted by what Yeosang did that he doesn’t want to even look at him again. But the look in his eyes has never been disgust — only some odd mixture between guilt and sadness. 

“I didn’t tell Wooyoung that part honestly. I figured… he wouldn’t take my word for it. So I think it would be better to show him, don’t you?”

“Show him what?” Yeosang exhales. Hongjoong presses forward so far that his breath ghosts over the younger’s lips, and Yeosang chokes on thin air.

“That you want him just as much as he wants you.”

“He… he wants me?” The disbelief is palpable, but Hongjoong is patient as always, releasing a small hum and shifting behind Yeosang to grab hold of his laptop and headphones again. 

“The thing he thought you heard that day — I enjoy riling him up maybe a bit too much, and I kept teasing him with the thought of someone walking in and catching us. The only person he wanted to interrupt was you, and he kept saying your name over and over like a prayer, so loud that he thought you heard him. And thus your reaction… or rather your confrontation scared him and made him think that you were disgusted by it.”

Yeosang feels like he’s been thrust underwater, ears ringing and head clogged with a myriad of thoughts that refuse to make any sense whatsoever. He understands the basic gist of what’s going on in the very least. Hongjoong knows he jerked off to the thought of him and Wooyoung, Wooyoung wants him to some degree, and Hongjoong is pressing closer and closer now that he has slid his laptop off the bed and tucked it under the bunk. And while Yeosang certainly doesn’t want him to stop, there is the nagging thought in the back of his mind that while Hongjoong said that Wooyoung wants him to some degree, Hongjoong never said whether he wants Yeosang in the same way or not.

“B-But what — what about you?” He whispers, too scared to raise his voice any further than that. Hongjoong hums as he leans a bit closer, and Yeosang falls back onto his elbows. “Do y-you want me too?”

“I certainly wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t,” Hongjoong says in response. He pauses in his push forward, giving Yeosang precious time to think and breathe easy for a few minutes. “But I won’t do anything that you don’t want to do, and I won’t push you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. Meaning that… if you want this but are uncomfortable with the idea of having an audience, we don’t have to have one.”

Audience? 

When the realization sinks in, Yeosang draws his hands up to cover his face and hide the rampant blush that takes over his cheeks. Hongjoong is quick to respond, hands coming up to join Yeosang’s and gently clasp around his wrists.

“It’s okay, Sangie, baby, you don’t need to hide.”

Baby. Kim Hongjoong is positively trying to kill him on the spot. 

“You’re so pretty, so so pretty especially when you blush like that,” Hongjoong continues. His voice comes out in a soft murmur, coating Yeosang’s ears like honey and dripping down to his gut where the threads of arousal begin to coil. 

“Hyung,” Yeosang exhales in a tone so breathy and whiny that it nearly doesn’t come out at all. 

“I need a firm yes or no on whether you want this before anything else, Yeosang.” Hongjoong begins to pull away, and that is the breaking point for Yeosang’s sanity practically because he lurches forward and snatches Hongjoong by the collar of his hoodie, wrenching him back down to hover mere centimeters over Yeosang’s lips.

“Yes, hyung, the answer is yes, please, for the love of all that is good in this world, please just—” 

Thank god Hongjoong cuts him off or else he would have just kept on babbling for an eternity. Yeosang falls quiet with a startled gasp as Hongjoong plants his lips atop the younger’s, and the arm that holds him up buckles under the sudden weight on his body. The both of them tumble down to the mattress at an awkward angle, Yeosang’s arm trapped behind his back and Hongjoong’s foot tangled in the sheets, but neither of them pay much attention to those issues. The priority seems to be each other’s lips, not that Yeosang is complaining about the way Hongjoong rushes to swipe his tongue over Yeosang’s lower lip. He grants entrance to his mouth with perhaps too much ease. The moment Hongjoong’s tongue breaches his lips and begins to explore his mouth, Yeosang chokes out a wanton moan that reverberates through the older’s mouth and pools heat in his gut. 

It’s only then that Yeosang decides to resituate their position some, and he kicks at the sheets to unravel them from Hongjoong’s feet before pressing up harder against the leader’s body. Hongjoong seems to get the hint and leans back as well, letting Yeosang have a few precious moments of control as he eases Hongjoong back onto the pillows and straddles his hips like this is what he was made to do. Yeosang is already panting and out of breath, cheeks alight with embarrassment still, but he looks an absolute vision in Hongjoong’s eyes with blond hair enveloping his forehead like a halo and lips glistening with spit. He finds a shred of sense left in him to ask one more question before he lets Yeosang dive back in for more.

“Do you want Wooyoung to watch?”

And this admittedly is not a fantasy Yeosang ever pictured or imagined. He figured he would be the one doing the watching, he would sit on the sidelines while the two fawned over each other and fucked, but this? This is something tantalizing indeed, and Yeosang would be damned if he didn’t take this golden opportunity now. Especially with the knowledge that both Hongjoong and Wooyoung have thought about him in the throes of passion.

“Is that what you thought of when you were jerking off, Sangie?” 

Yeosang can only whimper in reply, hands drawing up from where they sit atop Hongjoong’s chest to cover his blazing cheeks again, but Hongjoong is quicker this time. He keeps Yeosang’s hands right where they are by clasping his fingers around the other man’s wrists and watches on with pure admiration as Yeosang writhes a bit atop him.

“Hm? Is it, darling? Does dirty talk make you shy? We don’t have to do that if it makes you too uncomfortable. Give me a safe word as well just in case we need to stop.”

“No! No, no,” Yeosang denies in haste. “I… um, we can u-use red because that’s easy to remember.” Hongjoong offers a hum in approval, and Yeosang has to swallow his nerves before admitting the next bit. “I l-like being embarrassed a bit.”

“Do you, Sangie? Tell me what else you like.” Hongjoong is practically purring the words, and Yeosang thinks it will send him spiraling over the edge. The teasing glint in the older’s eyes is lethal too, turning Yeosang’s insides to mush and his limbs to jello, and he can’t think of anything he wants more right now than for Hongjoong to utterly wreck him on this very bed with Wooyoung watching on. 

“I like — like being good a-and hearing that I’m doing well.” Yeosang slips his hand around Hongjoong’s. He slowly tugs it upwards, guiding the man’s hand to his neck and measuring his reaction the entire time with wary eyes. Hongjoong seems to forget what breathing is for a moment, and when he finally does breathe again, it’s merely a sharp and painful inhale of air because Yeosang is closing Hongjoong’s own fingers around his neck and blinking at him with wide and innocent eyes. “Being choked feels really nice too. And I want Wooyoung to watch… to watch you ruin me.”

Hongjoong’s fingers twitch around his neck, and Yeosang knows that his words have a visceral effect on the man just by that reaction. He also feels the way Hongjoong’s cock twitches in the confines of his pants, right against the curve of Yeosang’s ass, and that brings a swell of pride to his chest.

“Do you want to ruin me, hyung?” He asks, batting his lashes for good measure, and fuck, it’s so worth it. It’s so worth it because Hongjoong growls in response and pushes Yeosang down so that he’s flat on the bed once more. 

“Fucking hell, Yeo, how can you be so — holy fuck, you’re so perfect.” Hongjoong maps a path from the tip of Yeosang’s nose down to the collar of his shirt with his lips, leaving a wet trail behind, and once he reaches the space hidden behind Yeosang’s shirt, he uses two fingers to tug the material down just enough to expose more of the milky skin underneath. Yeosang doesn’t have time to ask what he’s doing despite the confusion rushing through him because Hongjoong latches his lips around the spot, teeth nipping at the skin until red blooms under his touch. And god does it feel euphoric to be marked by Kim Hongjoong, to be claimed by him and wanted by him, and Yeosang is certain that all reason will leave his body before Wooyoung even gets involved. 

Hongjoong chooses that opportune moment to pull back. First, he admires the way Yeosang’s chest heaves, the way sweat beads his brow and causes his hair to cling to the skin there, and the way Yeosang already somehow looks so fucked out and beautiful that it’s unimaginable. He weaves his hands down the expanse of Yeosang’s chest to catch hold of the hem. Ever so slowly, Hongjoong tugs upwards, and it’s so painstakingly prolonged that Yeosang loses his patience before the shirt even reaches his sternum. He yanks the fabric from Hongjoong’s grasp and pulls it up over his head on his own, throwing it off to the side haphazardly without even bothering to check where it falls. He knows how to play Hongjoong so well, just what he needs to do to get under the man’s skin, and he does it with such ease that it’s laughable. Because the second Yeosang leans back to the bed and flutters his lashes up at Hongjoong, the leader is hissing through his teeth so loudly that the air comes out in a whistle. 

Then he grips his hoodie but the hem and tugs it over his head, but he leaves the plain undershirt underneath on for the time being as he twists around and catches hold of his phone. Yeosang’s arousal deepens as he watches Hongjoong tap furiously at the screen. Then he has an idea that is probably far too risky but also far too alluring to pass up on.

“H-Hyung, could you…” Yeosang loses the confidence to finish the question, hand stretched midway to Hongjoong’s. Still, Hongjoong pauses and looks directly at him. His dark eyes are glazed with lust and arousal, and they bear such a seriousness to them that Yeosang has to swallow around nothing to get his next words out. “Send him a picture,” he tries again, pushing more willpower in this time. “With your hand around my neck.”

“You’re unreal.” Hongjoong’s tone bears a quake this time, audible proof that Yeosang is having such an effect on the man, and the younger revels in it as he tugs Hongjoong’s hand down to the column of his throat. 

That’s all the incentive Hongjoong needs to bend over the other, and his hand squeezes a little bit around his throat. Yeosang’s cock twitches between his legs, right where his hyung’s crotch rubs atop his, and the sensation is so heady and thrilling that Yeosang dares to rut against Hongjoong again. He pushes his tongue out just a little bit, catches the tip between his teeth, then shows off the somehow innocent for the camera when Hongjoong angles it above his face. 

“For fuck’s sake, Yeo, I’m not gonna be able to wait for Wooyoung to drag his ass in here if you keep that up.” Hongjoong snaps the picture as quick as he can before tossing his phone off to the side in a huff.

“Keep what up?” Yeosang asks before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. The pair spend about two seconds staring at each other, Yeosang with a playful gleam to his gaze and Hongjoong with a more looming and dangerous one that has Yeosang’s stomach doing small backflips in anticipation. They’re interrupted by the sharp slam of a door somewhere in the dorm, and that’s followed by a skid and another smack of what sounds like a body on the wall. Another three seconds pass before the door to Hongjoong’s bedroom swings wide open, hitting the wall so hard that Seonghwa yells down the hall about disregard for common decency. 

“Can you at least pretend to be civilized, Wooyoung? You don’t need to act like an animal just because you’re about to get boned! And keep it quiet this time!”

The newcomer comes in a blur of dark hair and tossed garments, and Wooyoung doesn’t even wait for the door to be closed completely before he’s stripping down to his underwear.

“I’m here! I’m here, hi, fuck, oh my god, I’m here. Why didn’t you get me sooner, hyung?” Wooyoung hisses as he shuts the door in a rush, flipping the lock before stepping further into the room. 

“I didn’t tell him he’d just be watching,” Hongjoong whispers into the shell of Yeosang’s ear. It draws a blush out of the younger man, one that persists as he and Wooyoung make eye contact. Hongjoong drags the flat of his tongue across Yeosang’s cheek and presses a sweet row of kisses to the same line of skin a moment after. “Why don’t you break the news, darling?” 

“Break the news? The fuck, hyung? Did you invite me just to kick me out?” Wooyoung protests.

“I told you to trust me, you brat,” Hongjoong counters, passing a half-hearted glare towards the younger with a small sigh. “You’re here to watch the show.”

“Well, I’ll do that fucking gladly,” Wooyoung huffs. He makes for the bed, moving to join Hongjoong on top of the mattress, but Hongjoong slings his legs over Yeosang’s body and steps onto the floor to block Wooyoung’s way instead. Yeosang scrambles to push himself up onto his elbows. With wide eyes, he glances between the pair, swallowing around nothing when Wooyoung rakes his eyes over Yeosang’s bare chest leading down to the bulge in his sweats. Hongjoong places a hand over Wooyoung’s chest, and slowly but surely, the leader backs him up until he stumbles back into Seonghwa’s desk chair. “Hyung?”

“I said you get to watch. Not touch.”

“What? Hyung, you can’t seriously—”

“Per Yeosang’s request. Can’t you do it for him, my baby?” 

Wooyoung sucks his lower lip between his teeth and inhales sharply at the small pet name. Yeosang watches on with wide and curious eyes, from the way Hongjoong drags his hands over Wooyoung’s tan skin to the way Wooyoung’s hips tremble in an attempt to stay on the chair.

“Good boy,” Hongjoong hums when the younger doesn’t budge after a few moments. He slips back to the bed, still smiling from ear to ear as he moves, and he greets Yeosang with a wet and sloppy kiss. It’s a mess of teeth and spit, something inherently dirty in the best way possible, and Yeosang can’t hold back the light groan that rumbles through his throat when Hongjoong brings a hand down to palm at his erection. “You still want me to ruin you, darling?”

“Always,” Yeosang exhales against his lips. At that, Hongjoong leaves him with one more chaste kiss then dips lower, not wasting any more time before pulling something out from under his mattress. Yeosang’s body tenses in anticipation at the sight of it, and even more so when Hongjoong curls his fingers around the band of his sweats.

“Be as loud as you wish. Wooyoung is such a sucker for pretty moans,” Hongjoong teases, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Hyung!” Wooyoung protests in an instant, and he nearly bolts up from his chair. Hongjoong levels him with a glare though, the power dynamic slipping through and baring itself to Yeosang’s eyes, and it would taste a lie if he said he doesn’t want Hongjoong to dominate him in such a way as well. 

“Today is all about Yeo, but I’ll be kind enough to let you touch yourself too. But you can only come after he does.”

Wooyoung doesn’t voice his protests, but Yeosang can see the disapproval in his eyes. There is no opportunity to dwell on it for long because cold air suddenly hits his crotch and he feels his cock spring loose without warning. He draws his legs together to hide himself, a sudden bashfulness taking over him within seconds. Hongjoong drops his clothing off to the side, and it hits the floor with a soft thud before Hongjoong is back between his legs and easing his knees apart. 

“Don’t hide yourself, darling,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of Yeosang’s knee. “You’re so beautiful for us—” another kiss, this time higher on the inside of his thigh “—so precious and perfect. Next time I’ll let Wooyoung worship every inch of you, I promise.”

Next time. That insinuation has Yeosang preening, hips canting upwards towards Hongjoong’s body, and the older man stills him with a deftly placed palm on his cock.

“A-Ah, hyung,” Yeosang chokes out. The pressure increases a bit, drawing another louder moan from Yeosang’s lips. Hongjoong takes the opportunity to spread his legs once more, although this time he makes sure to press them wider than before, and Yeosang has never felt more exposed in his life. Hongjoong is still kissing a path up his bare leg when he reaches for the bottle of lube. The click of the cap sends a jolt through his nervous system, cock twitching weakly on the vee of his hip. 

“Hm, are you that excited, baby? You’re doing so well already. Wooyoung always complains about how slow I am when we do this.” Yeosang can do nothing but blink down at where Hongjoong is perched between his legs. Wide eyes meet his and maintain a steady sense of eye contact even as he pours some lube onto his fingers. “Am I going too slow for you, Yeosang?”

“A… a little bit,” Yeosang admits, shifting his elbows on the mattress. 

“But you’re doing so well for us, darling. Being so good and patient, hm? What more could you want?” Hongjoong trails a finger from the head of Yeosang’s erect cock down to the base. Even the slight touch has Yeosang whimpering in need, and he tries to rut his hips up into the older’s hand, but Hongjoong doesn’t let him. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll ruin you good and nice, okay?”

“Please,” Yeosang pants. Hongjoong traces down further with his lubed fingers, using his index finger to rub small circles around Yeosang’s hole. With his other hand, he takes hold of Yeosang’s cock, then without warning, he encircles the entirety of his member in the wet heat of his mouth. “Oh m-my god, hyung!” Yeosang throws his head back against the bed. His back arches painfully with the sensation, but Hongjoong doesn’t let up until his nose brushes Yeosang’s crotch. It is vastly impressive but Yeosang is far too engulfed in the feeling of Hongjoong’s mouth around his length to think too much about it. What he does know is that Hongjoong takes him all the way to the back of his throat without gagging in the slightest, and Yeosang wouldn’t call himself small by any means, so if that’s not the hottest thing he’s ever witnessed, he isn’t sure what could top it.

Yeosang squeezes his eyes shut as Hongjoong ravishes his cock, taking in the feeling of the man’s tongue tracing along the underside of his length. Hongjoong certainly sucks dick like it’s his last meal on earth and his only purpose in life. Though the number of blowjobs Yeosang has received are few and far between, he knows this is going to ruin all blowjobs in the future for him unless Wooyoung is the one to give them. Hongjoong keeps circling that index finger around his rim. It’s teasing and prodding, like he’s trying to get Yeosang to cave and beg for it, but Yeosang is too lost in the heat of Hongjoong’s mouth to even think to ask for it. Ironically, it’s Hongjoong who grows impatient as time passes on, and he at last slips one finger past Yeosang’s tight ring and buries the digit two knuckles deep in him.

Yeosang blindly reaches down to grab Hongjoong’s wrist. He desperately tries to push his finger deeper, to prod further and find that elusive spot that feels oh so good, but Hongjoong keeps him from doing so. The leader slips off his cock with a lewd pop, leaving a trail of spit to dangle between his lips and the head of Yeosang’s cock. The effort of having Yeosang so deep for such a long period of time shows on his face: his eyes are a bit puffy and red around the edges, tears glisten in his waterline, and the tip of his nose gleams just a little brighter now. Yeosang could get drunk off the sheer sight of him like this.

“Be patient, darling,” Hongjoong reminds him as he pushes Yeosang’s hand away from his own. “You’re so tight that I wanna spend some extra time prepping you, okay?”

And yes, Yeosang is touched by the gesture in the very least but he’s also quite annoyed because he wants Hongjoong deeper and deeper with each passing second. He only gets part of his wish when Hongjoong descends back on his leaking erection, scooping up the trail of precum and saliva with the flat of his tongue and diving back down on him. Somewhere in the haze of his thoughts, Yeosang thinks that having his dick sucked by Kim Hongjoong is a wholly spiritual experience. 

That point is proved further when Hongjoong pushes a second finger into his hole and gently settles it into his heat without moving for several seconds. Then, he twists his digits to the side and begins to fuck those two fingers in and out of Yeosang’s tight ring as slowly as possible. That has Yeosang’s moan devolving into choked mewls and whimpers, and his thighs tremble under the repetitive double stimulation that never stops even for a second.

Hongjoong has a talent at taking people apart it seems because he does it with Yeosang so easily that the younger is already seeing stars without having come a single time yet. Wooyoung is thoroughly enjoying the scene before him with rapt attention, and for once he actually remains rather quiet as he watches on, aside from the occasional moan and groan. The feeling of Wooyoung’s stare firmly planted on his body, from his face down to where Hongjoong’s face meets his crotch, leaves Yeosang feeling even more light-heated. He’s fairly confident that this with either send him spiraling into unknown territory or he will just straight up pass out after coming once. 

There is no time to worry about those minute details in the coming moments: Hongjoong works a third digit into his hole, and when he does, he pulls off Yeosang’s tortured cock with a lopsided grin. 

“Isn’t he so good and pretty for us, Woo baby?” 

“Y-Yes, hyung,” Wooyoung answers quickly. 

“Are you getting close, angel?” Despite Hongjoong’s stare being directed at Yeosang, the latter is vaguely aware that the question is meant for Wooyoung, but still, he nods a few times for good measure. That draws a laugh from Hongjoong’s chest. The noise resonates in Yeosang’s body, leaving him with a steady thrum of pleasure, and Hongjoong speeds up the pace of his fingers as he pumps them in and out of Yeosang’s hole. “You look so heavenly like this, Yeosang. Panting and mewling as I fuck your hole with just my fingers. You’re so desperate for something bigger, aren’t you?”

Yeosang is losing control over his own inhibitions and slipping into a place he rarely goes. 

“Y-Yes, yes, hyung, I’m — want more. Want more, please, give me more,” he babbles back, too lost to think about piecing full sentences together. Hongjoong is quick to pick up on the shift, especially in the way that Yeosang’s body turns to jello in his touch and becomes fully pliant under him. The leader snakes a hand up Yeosang’s side and finds one of Yeosang’s own hands on the bed. He laces their fingers together, clasping tight at the younger’s hand while offering a sweet and gentle smile. 

“Hyung has you, darling,” he murmurs. “I promise.” It’s the reassurance Yeosang needs to let go, and he lets himself rut down on Hongjoong’s fingers. They find a rhythm like that — with Yeosang’s half-hearted and shaky bounces and Hongjoong’s timely thrusts — and each jab to his prostate has Yeosang crying out for more. He wants to hold off, wants to make it last longer, come while Hongjoong is balls deep inside him, but Hongjoong seems determined to draw at least one orgasm out of him before they go any further. 

And that’s exactly what he does.

Less than three minutes later, Yeosang has his free hand wrapped around his shaft as Hongjoong fucks into his hole with three fingers and a sense of reckless abandon. It’s purely euphoric, and the quick jabs to his prostate are what sends him fully over the edge. Come spills over his hand, coating his knuckles and fingers in the sticky white substance, and Yeosang lets the steady jerks of his arm come to a rest. Hongjoong, however, just continues to pump his fingers in and out of Yeosang’s hole, not waiting for the man to recover before he is back to toying with his prostate. 

“Hyung, t-too much, ah — ah, hyung, I can’t!” It is a delicious bit of overstimulation, and one that leaves Yeosang exhausted and panting for air. Hongjoong stops before it begins to hurt thankfully, slipping his fingers out of the younger before mapping a path with his lips up to Yeosang’s neck.

“Are you with me, darling?” He hums into the crook of his neck. Small love bites enunciate the words, and Hongjoong drags his tongue over each little mark he paints on Yeosang’s skin. 

Yeosang honestly feels like he is floating on a different plane of existence. He doesn’t process any of what Hongjoong said, only the touches and cool sensation of air hitting the path of spit Hongjoong left on his chest. It’s concerning enough to make Hongjoong sit back and look Yeosang directly in the eye.

“Yeosang, baby, are you with me?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, yes, hyung. I’m — I’m here, yes,” Yeosang replies this time as Hongjoong pulls him out of the state of delirium.

“What’s our color, doll?” Rather than responding, Yeosang preens at the name Hongjoong calls him, a lopsided smile covering his lips.

“I like that, hyung. Can you — can you call me that again please?”

“I need your color first, Yeo. Is it too much? Do we need to stop?” Hongjoong cradles the younger’s face in his hands, caressing the soft skin of his cheeks and trying to make the younger look him in the eye. Even the smallest touch sends Yeosang spiraling, like he’s swimming through dark water and can’t figure out what’s going on around him.

“I don’t want to stop. I’m… I’m okay,” Yeosang insists through a nod. “I just need a few minutes to recover a bit. ‘m still green, I promise. I’m too — t-touch is too much right now.” Hongjoong nods and retracts his hands from the visual’s face, and Yeosang instantly inhales a deep breath of air like he’s been starving for it all this time. 

“Have you come yet, Woo baby?” Hongjoong shifts his focus over to the other man in the room, and Yeosang follows his stare over to land on where Wooyoung sits. Said man shakes his head quickly, fingers loosely wrapped around the base of his cock. “Can you last a little while longer?”

“Y-Yeah, of course, hyung.” 

That has Hongjoong smirking again, and the leader slips off the bed to stand up straight.

“Good because I’ve changed my mind,” he hums, stepping closer to where Wooyoung sits. He steps around the back of the chair. Yeosang makes brief eye contact with the man as he lays his hands down on Wooyoung’s shoulders, eyes glinting a bit under the fluorescent lights. “Yeosangie is going to ride your pretty little cock, and I…” Hongjoong curls his fingers around Wooyoung’s jaw and shifts the younger to look at him. He pushes two digits past Wooyoung’s lips, pressing down so hard on his tongue that Yeosang can hear the way Wooyoung gags around him. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth just the way you like. Understood?”

Wooyoung mumbles around Hongjoong’s fingers, taking them deeper into his mouth without complaint, and that seems to be answer enough with the way Wooyoung blinks up at his hyung through his lashes.

“Good boy,” Hongjoong praises before pushing his fingers further down Wooyoung’s throat. “Yeosang, darling, take your time. There’s no rush, okay? Woo could sit here with my hand in his mouth for hours and be satisfied.”

Yeosang spends the next several minutes just observing the scene before him. It’s oddly euphoric to simply stare at them in this state, Wooyoung still seated in that chair and Hongjoong standing behind him with an arm curled around the front of his body. Wooyoung seems to be working his tongue over Hongjoong’s fingers based on the dripping trail of saliva that pools at the corners of his lips every few minutes. And Hongjoong was correct: Wooyoung seems perfectly content like that, happily lavishing the older’s fingers as Hongjoong cards his other hand through Wooyoung’s dark hair.

By the time Yeosang finally pulls himself to his feet, his legs are somewhat wobbly and shaky, but he drags himself to where Wooyoung is seated with little issue. While his own cock has softened down to a semi-hard state, Wooyoung is still rock hard and twitching between his legs, hands clasped tight around the arms of the chair. Yeosang drops himself to Wooyoung’s lap without warning, and it startles the man so badly that he bites down hard on Hongjoong’s fingers. Hongjoong takes it without complaint, only letting out a soft hiss and yanking Wooyoung’s hair until the younger moans around his hand.

“Are you feeling alright, doll?” Hongjoong leans over Wooyoung’s head to get in Yeosang’s space. The visual greets him with a quick and daring kiss, then places both hands atop where Wooyoung’s sit on the armrests. 

“Perfect as can be.”

Hongjoong smiles into the kiss. He pulls off too soon for Yeosang’s liking, but Yeosang understands why he does so after a moment because the leader slips his fingers out of Wooyoung’s wet mouth and takes to stripping himself of the rest of his clothes like the rest of them. In the break of touching from Hongjoong, Yeosang and Wooyoung finally look at each other — Yeosang with teeth sunk deep into his lower lip, and Wooyoung with eyes glazed in lust.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” Wooyoung admits after a second. 

“Well, you don’t have to wait any longer,” Yeosang replies with a smile before taking Wooyoung’s face into his hands. Their lips meet in a shy kiss at first, one that is testing and exploring the waters around them before they let themselves get caught up in the thick air of arousal in the room. Wooyoung shifts his hands to Yeosang’s delicate hips. He presses his thumbs to the pale skin there with enough force to bruise, but the pressure is heady and delicious in Yeosang’s mind. 

Yeosang blindly fumbles around between his legs in search of Wooyoung’s cock, and once he finally has a hold of it, he pushes up on his knees to make space for Wooyoung to slip his cock between the cleft of Yeosang’s ass. They both release a shaky sigh into each other’s mouths, and Yeosang is ready to fully drop his hips on Wooyoung’s cock if not for Hongjoong stopping him at the last second.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, darling, you need more lube.” Hongjoong disappears behind his back, and Yeosang doesn’t bother to see what he’s doing until he feels something cool hit his backside. His whole body jolts forward against Wooyoung, hands latching onto the younger’s shoulders as the chilly lube slips lower. That feeling thankfully doesn’t last long because Wooyoung presses back into Yeosang’s hole with much more ease this time. Yeosang sinks down onto his heels once more, taking the younger’s cock deeper and deeper until Wooyoung’s thighs are flush with his ass.

He looks up from Wooyoung’s chest, intent on kissing the man under him, but Hongjoong has occupied his mouth in the meantime. And if Yeosang thought seeing Wooyoung with fingers between his lips was a sight to behold, the image of him with a cock filling his mouth is even better. So good in fact that Yeosang goes a little breathless at the sight. Hongjoong has a hand wrapped around the back of Wooyoung’s head, tilting the younger towards his crotch where Wooyoung slurps messily around his member with no shame. Hongjoong coos soft praises down at the man all the while, and it spurs Yeosang to start moving his hips. He desperately wants to hear that praise as well, he wants them to tell him that he’s doing a good job and being so good for them. He is so needy for it that he works his thighs as hard as he can, bringing a pleasant burn to the muscles. 

Yeosang’s erratic movements have Wooyoung releasing a litany of moans around Hongjoong’s cock, hands fumbling to grasp at his hips so he can buck up into Yeosang’s tight heat with little sense of rhythm. There’s no real point in trying to find a rhythm with Wooyoung, Yeosang learns that quickly because every time he tries to build a steady pace, Wooyoung jerks up with a thrust that throws Yeosang off-balance. So, instead, Yeosang just focuses on his small bounces and grinding his hips down when there’s a break in Wooyoung’s thrusts. Wooyoung loses his control on Hongjoong’s cock soon as well, and his timed bobs turn into letting his jaw go slack so that Hongjoong can simply thrust into his mouth instead. The sounds in the room are purely erotic, too loud between the wet slaps of skin, Yeosang’s mewls, and Wooyoung’s gagged moans around Hongjoong’s member, but Hongjoong manages to be relatively quiet himself with only a few sporadic moans here and there. 

“Look at you, doll.”

Yeosang cracks an eye open, panting through a whimper when he sees the way Hongjoong is currently staring at him. 

“You’re doing so well for us. Look at him, Woo, look how good he is on top of you like this.” Hongjoong stretches his free hand out towards Yeosang. He reaches for the younger’s face, but Yeosang twists his neck at the last second and catches Hongjoong’s thumb between his teeth instead. He maintains a piercing stare with the leader as he sucks the digit into his mouth, effectively muting his noises. Hongjoong’s hips lose their rhythm, and he freezes with cock halfway down Wooyoung’s throat to just stare at Yeosang in absolute wonder for so long that Yeosang thinks he truly broke the man. Wooyoung slips off Hongjoong’s cock.

“Hyung,” he whines, tone so hoarse that Yeosang would be surprised if he could talk at all tomorrow. 

“S-Shit,” Hongjoong exhales, and it’s the first time that Yeosang has seen the man’s composure break in the slightest since this started. That causes his chest to swell with pride, heady arousal filling his veins, and he squeezes hard around Wooyoung’s cock. It’s all the younger needs to come, apparently, because Wooyoung releases a startled yelp that is so loud that Hongjoong has to rush to muffle him with his cock before someone comes rushing to the door. Yeosang isn’t expecting to come as soon as he does, but he is quick to follow Wooyoung in coming, hot spurts of come painting Wooyoung’s stomach and Yeosang’s hands where they rest atop Wooyoung’s sternum. He can’t stop moving, nor does Wooyoung let him with the grip he maintains on Yeosang’s hips, thus the two of them ride out their orgasms together like that until their bodies give out to the pleasure. 

Yeosang collapses forward, smearing the cum between their bodies further as he drops his head to Wooyoung’s right shoulder. Hongjoong is still working hard to come himself, and Wooyoung returns to his senses enough to assist him. Yeosang can only watch on from where he’s perched. Every muscle in his body aches and burns, but the lingering haze of his orgasms leaves him feeling warm and fuzzy inside.

“S-Shit, Woo, gonna come on you like this,” Hongjoong warns, fingers tightening around the man’s hair. Wooyoung pulls off his cock and replaces his mouth with a hand. He splays his tongue out before the head of Hongjoong’s dick, somehow managing to giggle as he strokes his hyung to completion. Hongjoong releases onto Wooyoung’s tongue and face, and Wooyoung takes every last drop until he’s milked Hongjoong dry. 

When he finally lets go of the man’s cock, Wooyoung turns back to Yeosang, twisting a hand through his hair and pulling his face up until they’re eye level, then he plants his lips atop Yeosang’s. The come is still there, sticking to his face and tongue, but Yeosang sinks into the kiss without complaint. Wooyoung thrusts his tongue into the visual’s mouth. Hongjoong’s come is salty and warm, so bitter that Yeosang almost chokes on it, but Wooyoung fares much better, although that’s probably because he has a lot more practice swallowing come than Yeosang does. Yeosang takes it as best he can, swallowing every drop that Wooyoung pushes between his lips, and he even goes so far as to clean the come off Wooyoung’s face between soft kisses. 

“Hyung,” Yeosang exhales, and he looks up to where Hongjoong stands beside them. Hongjoong seems to guess exactly what he wants with little trouble, bending at the waist to give him a sloppy kiss, and Yeosang hums into the touch. 

“What about me?” Wooyoung whines the moment they detach, and Hongjoong has enough mercy to offer a kiss to him as well.

“I’ll give you more in the shower,” he promises after pecking the younger’s forehead. “I’ll go get the water running. You two come join when you’re ready, yeah?”

Hongjoong leaves the two of them there, still seated in that damn chair with Wooyoung’s softened cock deep in Yeosang’s ass. They don’t move right away, and frankly, Yeosang is more than okay with that because his body feels weightless and unreal at the moment. 

“Want me to carry you to the bathroom?” Wooyoung offers through a smile. Yeosang only hums in response and tucks his head further into Wooyoung’s neck.

“I really… Wooyoung, I really like you. More than just sexually,” he admits, watching a bead of sweat trickle down the side of Wooyoung’s face. “You and Hongjoong both.”

“I like you both too, so I don’t see why that would be an issue.”

“Really?” Yeosang murmurs. And maybe it’s just the afterglow of the sex or the pent-up emotions rolling through Yeosang’s chest, but the corners of his eyes prick with unshed tears and his heart clenches in his chest.

“I thought it was obvious this whole time, yeah. And I know… I know Hongjoong feels the same even if he’s not always good at voicing his feelings all the time.” Yeosang squeezes his arms around Wooyoung’s midsection at that. A soft kiss lands on his forehead, then Wooyoung shifts their weight and tucks his hands under Yeosang’s thighs.

“Are you two dolts coming or not? I’m wasting hot water over here, hurry it the fuck up!”

“He loves us!” Wooyoung laughs into the shell of Yeosang’s ear, carrying him off to join Hongjoong in the bathroom before the leader complains again.

“Yeah, I think he does,” Yeosang murmurs more to himself than to anyone else.

﹎﹎﹎

[shhh-no-ones-home]

cake walk bucky barnes x reader

+++++++++

Inspo can be found here, i really liked the idea and kinda ran with it lol

sorry ive been away for a while. ive been in a shit mindset but things around me are changing again and im hoping for the better. im away from home this week and figured id finally finish this, as well as restart the marvel shows on netflix so expect some new daredevil and punisher one shots in the near future 😁

also this is like half edited so if it sucks or i forgot to fix anything sorry

Song: soft by motionless in white

tag list: @cynic-spirit +++++++++

Bucky had been super tired lately. He had been having nightmares here and there and though he hadn't had one in a while he was still worried he'd hurt me in his sleep. So he was currently taking a nap in our shared room at the compound. We were only here for a few days to train new recruits and then we would all be back to our own homes. Me and buck, Sam, Clint, even Scott showed up. But then again he was always excited to be part of the team. Now I was in the kitchen like I usually was, stress-baking. But just to be safe, and per his request, I had a camera on buck while he slept to make sure he was still okay and I could rush to our room if he needed me.

So I stood at the island, gathering ingredients and singing softly to myself. not unusual for me to do, it was a good distraction after all and everyone else loved it because it made the place smell great. that and they all loved the many cakes, cookies, muffins, breads, and other baked goods I decided to make. a lovely thought really, one that brought a smile to my face as I began measuring out the dry ingredients. when I turned to look at the monitor though Bucky was gone, making me set the flour back onto the counter. Panic set in immediately. I tapped the screen twice, hitting the tracking cam on his watch and the footage coming up. I sighed deeply as I saw the blurry side video of Bucky murder-stomping his way through the halls. I tapped my own watch quickly.

"attention we have a 'wolf out of containment.' if you see him direct him to the kitchen but do not engage. If you wake him he'll hurt himself."

I said into it, rolling my eyes at the code name, and looking back to the monitor in worry. I heard my voice echo off the walls as he stepped towards the sound. One of the agents was walking down the hall and paused when he saw Bucky, rage behind his eyes as he got closer. Now Bucky was holding him harshly in his metal hand.

"Where is she?"

He said through gritted teeth and i could see both of their faces in the view on my watch.

"Kitchen. Down the hall to the left."

The agent squeaked out. Bucky threw him to the ground quickly before making his way down the hall. I double tapped the monitor again as he turned into the room. There was an intensity and pain strewn across his features as he made his way to me. whatever nightmare this was it had a full hold of him. he had been sleep walking a lot recently but it had never gotten this bad. but he knew what to do, even unconscious. Before he even made it to the table across the room Sam was rushing in behind hi, coming to a screeching halt when he realized what was happening to his best friend.

"I heard the code. Is everything okay?"

He asked and Bucky turned around, throwing a punch his way and him ducking. he made a scared face as he stood back up ready to fight.

"At ease soldier!"

I yelled and Bucky froze, mid motion as he began to throw another. He looked over his shoulder at me, seething, breathing heavy, eyes glazed over.

"Come here."

I said softly. He sent Sam a glare before doing as told, backing his way to the counter where i was standing. he never once stopped looking at Sam, or the other few agents that came rushing in with guns. that definitely didn't help.

"do you need help?"

one of them asked, looking between me and Bucky as he plucked a knife out of the wood block on the counter, holding it in a defensive position as he stood in front of me.

"no, I don't need help. Sam and I can take care of this."

i said matter-of-factly, the agent speaking into their watch and all three of them lowering their guns.

"just leave us be. everything is fine. if i need anything ill call."

they all nodded hesitantly, looking to Sam briefly before leaving. i sighed out when they were finally out of sight, side stepping buck and going back to measuring my sugar and vanilla.

"He sleep walking again?"

Sam asked quietly, stepping very slowly around the table and I nodded, moving to put mix my dry ingredients together. Bucky stood next to me, fist clenched tight around the knife as he watched Sam's every move with vigorous intent. I pulled one of the stools out from under the counter before grabbing a spoon and mixing the wet and dry ingredients together to make the cookie dough.

"Sit."

I offered buck and he sent me a confused looked. I glared at him and he did as told.

"Sam you mind setting a timer on that pad for twelve minutes?"

He nodded and did as told, stepping closer but not close enough for buck to do anything about it. they stared at each other as I molded the dough into balls on a tray.

"has this been happening a lot recently?"

Sam asked and i nodded, pushing the chocolate chips off the ends of my fingers.

"it hasn't been full mission before, and this one is lasting much longer."

i noted, washing my hands in the sink to the right of the counter.

"how do you know what to do?"

i let out a nervous laugh, tucking the tray of cookies into the hot oven behind me.

"in all actuality, I don't. I'm just hoping that the things I've tried before work. "

Bucky looked between me and Sam as I stood back up, drying my hands on the towel and moving to touch his cheek gently. he flinched for a second, staring at me as i tucked his hair behind his ear.

"its okay soldat. you can relax, he's not going to hurt me. he's my friend."

i said very softly, looking over his eyes as he turned back to Sam.

"put the knife down."

i said just above a whisper, moving to stand behind him. i began slowly running my fingers through his hair. he still held the knife tightly as i started to hum along to one of his favorite songs from his childhood. he had shared it with me sometime after we had moved in together. it had been my savior more than once.

"does that work?"

Sam asked and i sent him a look, trying to get Bucky to lean back into my chest. he kept jolting himself back up, fighting the urge to close his eyes. as I got to the end of the song though he had his head completely rested against me, body limp, and knife clattering to the rug beneath us. he had fallen back into a deep sleep, snoring softly as I continued to finger comb his hair.

"yes Samuel, it works."

i said, and then the timer went off. Bucky jolted upright, the stool shaking as i leaned forward and caught him before he fell off. I held his shoulders as he breathed heavily, looking around in deep confusion.

"Sam?"

he asked before looking back at me and drawing his brows.

"hey baby, its okay. I'm sorry we woke you."

he turned to me and took my hand.

"y/n, why am I in the kitchen?"

i let out a nervous laugh, letting him go and getting my cookies out of the oven.

"you were sleep walking again."

he groaned, standing up and freezing when he looked down.

"I didn't hurt anyone... did I?"

he said horrified as he picked the knife up. i shook my head frantically, taking it from him and putting it back in the block.

"no! no no no. baby you did not."

i said quickly through one breath, placing my hands on either side of his face. he looked like he was going to cry.

"hey, no, look at me. James. you didn't hurt anybody. I dropped the knife in surprise when you came in here. it had nothing to do with you."

Sam sent me a sad look as i tried to calm Bucky down.

"you're sure?"

he asked pained and i pulled him into a tight hug, cradling his head in my hand and mouthing to Sam to not say anything.

"yes Jamie I am sure. you are perfectly fine. scared the shit out of some agents. but no more."

he took in a shaky breath.

"i scared you."

he repeated just above a whisper and i pulled him away from me, holding his head in my hands and looking between his eyes.

"you just caught me by surprise, nothing we haven't been through before."

he sighed heavily and closed his eyes. i kissed his forehead gently.

"hey, now that you're awake, you want a cookie?"

i asked and he looked up at me, offering a small smile.

"uh, yeah, id love one."

i nodded once before turning and carefully taking one off the tray and placing it on one of the dry paper towels sat on the counter in front of him.

"made especially for my buckaroo."

i said and he laughed lightly before taking a bite. he was none the wiser and Sam sent me a testing look.

"Sam?"

i asked, holding one out to him and he took it begrudgingly. i went back to finger combing Bucky's hair as he snatched another. sending me a genuine smile as he chewed. i shared another knowing glance with Sam before he pulled another bar stool out and sat across from us.

"these are pretty good y/n, wish we could share with more of the guys here."

he said and i sent him a look.

"well i guess we'll just have to save them some for later. I'm sure they're all very busy right now with other important things."

i said a little condescendingly and he shook his head.

"so uh, i don't know what's happening but if i sit here any longer there wont be any left for anyone else. what do you say we go for a walk or something?"

Bucky said with a smile and i nodded, smiling back.

"i think that's a great idea. Sam?"

he looked from Bucky to me and to the tray.

"uh you guys go ahead. ill make sure these get to the guys, and that the recipe doesn't make its way into their daily reports."

i took Bucky's hand as he stood and nodded once at Sam in understanding. he was going to make sure no one got word of Bucky's incident, just in case. he was getting better after all.

"thanks Sam, it means a lot. come on buck, lets get some air."

[sinkix]

~ Haikyuu!! Boys baking with reader - Ft. Ushijima, Tendou, Oikawa, Hinata & Nishinoya ~

YO! SO UHHHH... I’M BACK??? I GUESS?? MAYBE??? After a little break I had this in my drafts for a while and realllyyy wanted to complete it since it’s such a cute concept. Honestly at this point my posting frequencies are so sporadic and random pls forgive me lmao.

@deathcab4daddy​ gave me the inspo to include Ushi and it was so funny coming up with ideas for him, he is no.1 country boi chef 

Dude I’m listening to the Mario Kart soundtrack ‘Coconut Mall’ while I continue writing this someone save me. Like u think I’m joking. UR WRONG.

Ushijima:

The most straightforward yet idiotic baker you will ever come across.

Before you even THINK about performing step 1, he will read the entire fucking leaflet like it’s a Shakesperean monologue.

INGREDIENTS INCLUDED.

LIKE SIS I DIDN’T NEED TO KNOW IT CONTAINS  MONOCALCIUM PHOSPHATE THANK YOU.

I’m surprised he doesn’t count every single particle in the brownie mix.

You bought him a frilly cupcake-printed apron stating ‘best wife’ not expecting him to actually wear it

But since he’s secretly a big softie and treasures anything you buy he wears it proudly.

His stoic and dignified disposition is a comical contrast to the words printed on the front lmao.

Ushi best wifey bro.

The tight fit of the apron is pretty hot since it outlines every ridge of his pecs and tightly toned torso.

Gotta resist groping your mans while stirring the brownie batter.

tbh he’s more likely to grope you, he can’t resist that a$$.

And let’s face it he’s def an ass/thigh kinda guy.

Can and will try to casually initiate some form of unholy activities by lifting you up onto the kitchen counter, goading you to slowly lick the spoon and locking gazes before pulling you in for a deep, open-mouthed kiss to get a taste of the incomplete creation himself.

Ushi’s lips and brownie batter are a knock-out combo js.

Literally has the most serious face when he’s cracking the eggs into the bowl

The amount of concentration is equivalent to that of when he’s performing a serve at match-point.

HAS to set the temperature to the EXACT degree stated on the box

Everything is done by the book if you do one thing out of place he will pull you up on it lol.

“(Y/N) you were supposed to stir it for 5 minutes, not 7.”

When its done you feed him some and he can’t help but smile its so ADORBALE AHHH.

You end up eating most of it since Ushi doesn’t strike me as much of a chocolate/junk food lover.

STILL A VERY FUN BUT F R U S T R A T I N G EXPERIENCE.

Tendou:

The complete opposite of Ushi

Does everything wrong and the unconventional way.

Absolute disaster but doesn’t even sweat it since Tendou basically thrives in chaos and the disorderly.

To him instructions are purely equivocal, will read them for five seconds then toss them away.

Step aside Gordon Ramsey, Chef Tendou is here.

Despite doing everything the unorthodox way it still comes out amazing.

Like??? how???

Will cheekily place a dollop batter on your nose then lick it off fh3jkeffefds

Or if he’s feelin’ a lil freaky, he’ll swipe it off with his long ass finger and make you suck it clean, smirking at your submission as you coat his finger with your saliva.

oop-

Constantly cracking jokes and shitty food puns, pretending to drop the bowl to make you go into preemptive cardiac arrest before you can swat him with the spatula.

While you’re waiting for the timer to ping, Satori being the schemer he is will use this as an opportunity to pull some fuckery and tease you in any way he can.

u better be praying like bodhisattva TanaNoya rn because he is MERCILESS.

Suggestive comments, the brush of his fingers against your thigh, it’ll leave you A C H I N G in frustration by the end of it.

Unholy activities aside, once your baking session is completed you finish it off by feeding PHAT forkfuls of brownie to each other and giggling like dorks when it gets all over your mouth.

The jackass actually got a fingerful and SMEARED it over your cheek and forehead, drawing a little cross and snickering when the crumbs fall onto your nose.

Tendou was smart to draw a cross bc he gonna need jesus with the ATTACK you launch on him after that, which promptly leads to an all out food war in your kitchen that neither of you want to clean up after ward.

Don’t worry though it’s Tendou, he’ll somehow find a way to make such a mundane activity fun.

Nishinoya:

stirs WAY TOO VIOLENTLY

IT’S LIKE AN ELECTRIC WHISK ON OVERDRIVE.

IT WILL SPLATTER OVER THE COUNTER, CUPBOARDS AND EVERYTHING YOU HOLD DEAR WITHIN A 1 MILE RADIUS.

You best believe he will try and eat some of the batter and you have to swat the spoon away from his mouth since he has NO REGARD FOR THE FACT HE COULD GET SALMONELLA.

Plus you know what Noya’s like once he starts eating something the whole thing will be gone in a matter of milliseconds.

He somehow managed to get Baking powder EVERYWHERE and even gave him self a little moustache with it.

The white substance kinda looked like something else but you didn’t really wanna say lmaooo.

could explain why he has so much energy all the time oK ILL STOP-

While you’re putting the mix on the tray he is SO extra and will do fancy lil swirls and over extend his arm like a swan to gracefully spread the batter

until he nearly fucking knocks it over.

During processing time since he is so excitable and impatient you best believe he’s gonna suggest a game of ping pong or something because my guy can well and truly never sit still.

ping pong match with the spatulas, kitchen island and a hard boiled egg.

Pls be careful he will rolling thunder that egg and pimp slap it so hard with the spatula it’ll damn near give you a concussion, not intentionally, but like protect your noggin. Wear a helmet.

For the remaining 5 minutes of baking time y’all just sit like kids in front of the oven and watching it rise like starved hyena’s observing it’s pray before demolishing it into sad particles of cocoa.

And lemme tell u, once the timer pings, that baking tray is free real estate for Noya. Half of your creation will be devoured before you can even put it on a plate and marvel at your handiwork. 

He kicked your ass at spatula ping pong btw I’m sorry sweaty but short kings stay winning.

Oikawa:

Such a dramatic bitch like he got the whole she-bang going on.

Strapped with a pink apron, a whisk at his side and standing proudly with both hands on his hips.He is prepared like a greek gladiator going into battle.

You better believe he gonna make some snarky remarks and tease your method of doing things. 

“Ah-ah-ahhh (Y/N)-chan you’re doing it all wrong, let me show you how a PRO does it.”

Proceeds to drop entire bowl on his foot and yelp like a little girl in pain.

Well and truly embarrassed with himself, you put a band-aid on his toe and he piped down after that.

Shattered big toe and mixing bowl aside, actually a really good baker??

He is a PRO at decorating, y’all decided on cupcakes since its literally his forte to make them look aesthetic and pretty.

You almost don’t wanna eat them from how good they look.

jk almost

You take it in turns breaking bits off and placing pieces into each others mouth with a loud “aaaaaahhh!”

Places a piece in your mouth, leans forward and locks lips with you in a soft, passionate kiss before pulling away and uttering the words “It tastes even better coming from your mouth ;)”

hnnnNNGGGGGGggGg.

You both whine and bicker over who cleans up after.

“You cleaaannnnn!”

“no Toru YOU clean!”

“but I made the cupcakes look pretty :(”

“not as pretty as you <3″

He did the cleaning after that.

Like just stroke his ego with some compliments and he’s whipped with a smug grin on his face for the next 30 minutes.

You decide to save the rest and bring them to his next practise.

Literally on the verge of tears when he sees you beaming and holding the platter of treats, Kiyotani mauls half of them in a matter of seconds to which Oiks gets salty over LMAO.

Hinata:

So excited oh my god he’s so precious please protect him I will CRY-

Has a little sunflower apron on and JBJKNDDDKDW IM SMILING JUST IMAGINING HIM FIDGETING IN EXCITEMENT OVER THE THOUGHT OF BAKING COOKIES.

Yes you decided on cookies bc he goes rabid for some choc chip biccies.

You have to guide him v carefully because of how easily confused and clumsy he is.

Cannot for the life of him crack the eggs without getting a quarter of the shell in the bowl so you have to do it instead.

Has a surprising amount of strength and forearm power bc holy shit boy can stir FAST.

Hums a little tune while he does it and bobs up and down with a wide grin on his face it’s so adorable, he has such a gentle singing voice I can’t-

Attempts different shapes with the batter when pouring it onto the tray but fails pretty miserably lol.

he tried ok???

Once they’re done he takes the tray out of the oven and since it was heavy, subconsciously propped it with his knee and nearly dropped the entire tray from the pain. (I’ve actually done this before when making chicken nuggets I do not advise being that brain dead)

Had to put some burn cream on the bbies knee :’((

When you decided to dig in, he handed you a cookie that looked like a crooked circle and said he tried to make that one a heart and insisted he feed it to you.

Blushed VERY hard at the moment of silence and intense eye contact while he fed it to you.

Nearly short circuited when his fingers brushed against your lips.

Moe moe x100000000000000000000000000000

You offer to do the cleaning after because he hurt himself and you didn’t wanna make him do any work, but he still offered to wipe the surfaces for you bc he’s an angel <333

literally just wanna marry him.

[imagines4thefandoms]

The Man the World Forgot

Part 1

summery: Chris was living the life. He was a famous movie star with all of his films a blockbuster hit. Millions of people around the world knew his name; Chris was the most famous person in the world. But that all changed in a matter of seconds. When Chris wakes up one morning and the world has no idea who he is. Not even his family and close friends. Chris Evans no longer exist, or more exactly he never did. No one remembered him, no one except Scarlet. Scarlet McLaughlin was just a normal college student just trying to make it to graduation. She discovers that she is the one who remembers who Chris Evans is. Together they try and work out why the world doesn’t remember the movie star. Will they be able to fix the movie stars life or will he just stay forgotten in the minds of his loved ones?

word count: 2.2K

Chis Evans’ Saturday night was just a regular Saturday night while away for work: he called Scott to talk to Dodger, went for a quick run before eating in the hotel restaurant. He watched the couple sitting next to him celebrate something and grew a bit jealous. All he wanted in life to find the right person, settle down, and have kids. Chris just never met the right person.

After finishing his meal, the lonely star went back to his room to get ready for his busy day of shooting in the morning. Normally he would at least explore the city a little but he wasn’t in the mood to explore the beautiful Big Easy tonight. Before the elevator doors closed a pair of newly weds game in and were giggling in the corner. Evans tired to hid as to not draw attention to himself but the couple were too entranced with each other to notice that there was someone else in the elevator.

When the now suffocating metal box reached his floor, Chris exited and walked to his room wondering when he would ever have what they had. He kicked his shoes off as soon as his hotel door closed behind him and got ready for bed. Once he got in bed, he decided against watch tv and just let the noise of the city ease him into slumber. But before he could close his eyes, he saw a light streak across the night sky. ‘A shooting star’ he thought. Chris closed his eyes and made a wish.

“I wish I could be normal and find the love of my life,” he whispered before finally going to sleep.

At midnight the sky exploded with light. The entire city of New Orleans went quite for just a second then roared back to life as if being rebooted. Little did the actor know that his innocent wish full of love and hope had come true but has also brought a twist.

Chris woke up to his alarm blaring at six in the morning for his call time at seven thirty. He has awoken with a new cheery disposition than when he went to bed. Chris had a feeling that today was going to be a great day. He was about to call Scott to talk to Dodge and his brother but decided to take a shower first cause he knew he would be on that call for a while.

After his shower, Chris put on simple jeans and a t-shirt then grabbed his wallet and phone to head to set. The bipolar southern weather had subsided and left a nice cool day, causing the actor to decide to walk the few blocks to set. While on his walk Chris noticed that he was actually relaxed. There was no people with cameras following him nor fans stopping him for a picture. He chalked it up to people still being hung over from their night on Bourbon Street. Chris then remembered that he still has to call Scott. He took out his phone and pressed on his brother’s name in his contacts and waited for him to pick up.

“Hello,” Scott answered in a confused tone.

“Hey man, I just called to say good morning to Dodge. Did I wake you,” Chris asked hoping that he didn’t. He sometime forgot that not everyone is on his sleep schedule.

“Who is this,” Scott replied.

Chis laughed thinking that this was one of his brothers pranks or that he had woken his brother up and he was so fresh from sleep that he was confused. “Scott its me. Are you hung over?” Chris asked as he stopped at a cross walk.

“Hi me but I still don’t know who this is. How did you get this number? You can’t just call me to talk to my dog,” Scott said in a slightly irritated tone.

Chris really thought that his brother was milking this prank. Which was fine. “Scott already very funny its Chris. Your brother. Now can I talk to MY dog before I head on set.”

“Look I don’t know who this is but I don’t have a brother. Don’t call here again,” Scott said before hanging up.

Chis looked at his phone after his brother hung up just to make sure he called the right person. He decided against calling him again just to check up on him partly because he wanted to wait til he had a lunch break in hopes that Scott would give up on this prank and partly because he was at his filming location.

He walked up to the security guard and gave him a smile as he walked by, but the guard stopped him. “Name,” the guard asked.

Evans wasn’t use to not being recognized but he chalked it to being protocol. He gave the guard his name and id and waited til he check is clipboard of approved people on set. “Your not on the list,” the guard replied handing back the id.

“There has got to be some mistake,” Chris said slightly annoyed, “Im the lead role.”

“You are not on the list, which means you don’t get in.”

Chris was now more annoyed so he took out his phone and called his agent Charlie to straighten this whole mess out. Once Charlie picked up the phone Chris skipped the pleasantries and just tole him how he’s not being let on set and that he’s about to be late.

“Who is this,” Charlie asked after Chris went on his little rant.

“Charlie, its Chris. Chris Evans.”

“Um i’m not in the office today but if you make an appointment with my assistant we can look into maybe representing you. I don’t know how you got this number but i’m going to give you my assistant’s and you just make an appointment,” Charlie replied in a professional manor.

“Charlie. Im already your client. Did Scott put you up to this,” Chris laughed at the extent of his brother’s prank.

“I know all of my clients and a Chris Evans is not one of them. Im sorry I think you have the wrong number. Have a great weekend,” Charlie replied hanging up the phone.

Chris was starting to really not like this prank. He had to be on set in five minutes, but his anxiety of the whole situation was getting really out of hand so he went for a walk around the city. Then he will be late to set and Charlie will call him back to apologize making the whole prank thing to rest.

Even though the city isn’t at its bullies at seven thirty in the morning Chris couldn’t deny the cozy and exciting atmosphere of it. Once again on his walk Chris was not bothered by fans nor photographers and for a quick second he wondered how extensive was the plank his brother was pulling. He pasted a Café Du Monde and realized that he had planned on eating breakfast on set. This place was on a list of places Anthony had told Chris to visit while he was in New Orleans. These beignets were supposedly the best things ever so Chris took his friends advice and decided to have an order for breakfast.

He sat down at a table outside so he could still enjoy the scenery of the old beautiful city and waited for a waitress to come over. Chris was entranced by some street players when his waitress came over and greeted him a good morning. He looked over and saw a young girl about seventeen in white button-up shirt with black pants, black bowtie, and a long green apron. The actor braced himself for the questions and her starstruck demeanor.

“Are you,” she started to say as she grabbed her notebook out of the apron.

“Chris Evans yes, how are you,” he said expecting her question of a picture and autograph. But it never came instead introduced herself and told him she was asking if he was ready to order.

This took Chris by surprise. Usually you women this this waitress would be hounding him for pictures and autographs and question but she did. He wanted to chalk it up to her being professional but there was a tiny voice inside his head the told him it was something else.

“Sorry um ill take an order of beignets and a café au Lait,” Chris ordered thankful for the pressure from Anthony for him to pronounce every thing he is going to eat in New Orleans correctly so he doesn’t look stupid. The Waitress gave him a nod and a smile before to put in his order.

The waitress came back three minutes later with the coffee and a plate with three beignets. She placed the items on the table and gave him the line of ‘hope you enjoy’ then went back to work. After he took one bite, he realized that Anthony was right about how delicious these things were. Chris was about to text his friend about how much he enjoyed the fried doughy treat but decided against because he knew Mackie was in the west coast for his film and its six am in Hollywood, also he didn’t want to take the chance that Scott had gotten him in on the prank as well.

For the first time in forever Chris Evans wanted to be attacked by paparazzi  and to be swarmed by fans getting too close for comfort. So he did the only think he could think of. Once he finish his breakfast he paid and left a generous tip to the young highs cool student and walked to the place where he knew there would be people at eight in the morning: the Flea Market down the road.

Once he arrived to the Flea Market, he was overwhelmed over the amount of people there. Given that it was eight in the morning on a Saturday it wasn’t weird for this many people to be there, but the sight gave Chris a little bit of anxiety. He was starting to second guess being around so many people in this publish setting just to get recognized.

But once again while he was looking at all the different booths, no one stopped him, no one took his picture, and no one whispered about him behind his back. Chris decided to get Scott something from the flea market in hopes that it would make him fell bad for this prank; Chris had also gotten some souvenirs for the rest of his family while at the flea market as well. Once he was finished with his shopping, the actor headed back to his hotel room. He wanted to get some rest and just wake up from this horrible day.

On his walk back to the hotel, Chris thought that he should enjoy this albeit terrible anonymity he seems to have. He walked a little slower and just took in the sights of the historical buildings he was passing. And while he has heard Anthony complain about the streets being awful in the city he admired the imperfection of the cracks and the potholes, something that natives never have like.

He stoped at Jackson square and enjoyed one street performer groups’ show and looked around at the art work hanging on the fence. Some where simple and others where very detailed but all captured the story of the city that had persevered though many hardships. And after gazing upon what is St. Louis Cathedral, Evans really headed back to his hotel room.

This time the buildings were not the things that caught his attention, but the families that were out exploring the city as he was. One that stuck out in particular was a family with a small girl about the age of five who kept asking her father if they could take a horse ride. She was pointing to the white horse who was standing at the corner to the street waiting for the next people he was going to give a ride too. The father and mother exchanged looked and then agreed which caused the little girl to jump up and down with joy.

The sight made Chris’s heart swell. In that moment he didn’t see that family, he saw the family he hope to have in the future. He saw his littler girl jumping for joy over a horse while him and his wive looked upon her with such adoration. The family disappeared into the horse drawn carriage and Chris’s mind was back on his bed.

Chris was almost at his hotel room when he felt like he was being watched, which on a normal day wasn’t weird but on a day like today it was. He stopped and looked around him to see where this feeling was coming from. That when he noticed someone on the phone across the street staring straight at him. Chris knew that look on her face. Its the face fans get when they see him. This girl knows who he is. She is the only person who does. He knew he had to ask her why.

Part 2

[alemanriq]

Hey !! I hope it won’t sound rude or anything but do you still draw Moblit, Nifa, Keiji and Abel ?? I found your account and omg all your work are just so amazing I was wondering :)

Hahahah i read Abel in your ask and all i feel is

I'm still not over the fact that the last one of my Unrecognized children does have a name.

But hshdjs you're so sweet and anything but rude for asking that n_n I admit i haven't drawn them in a while even if i want to..is beacuse of a mix of things.

- Actually for the past couple of years i ve been dealing with major insecurities about my drawing style, to the point that whenever I'd start to make something i would drop it midway bc it wasn't looking the way i wanted...is as if suddenly my expectations on my own art became extremely high. Even if i know i ve done drawings i like in the past, whatever i do next has always to look better, and if i feel it doesn't, i never post it. Feels like my hands and eyes just forgot how to get back in track no matter how many drawings i make.

- This also slows down my commissions, and i don't want to post anything before im done with them and then feel bad for that too dhdjd.

- Angst is just not my thing...the fandom became very angsty with latter chapters, there was a point in which anything about moblit/hanji squad had to do w sadness and painful shipping, and it was also reflected in my moblit askbox haha. (Also happened w levihan in case anyone is curious)

- I have even less time now because since pandemic started, i also started a new job that I enjoy, and in which i want to improve because i want to stay and escalate..Before that, i really didn't work this many hours hehhe and when I'm done, i feel too tired to draw, I want to play games or do smth else.

So i cannot tell you guys *when* I will post again as before, but all i can say is that i still enjoy the characters and like to talk about them, i was just never the starter type so if no one interacts with me, i just lurk silently lmao.

I don't want to say ill never post anything about them (or anything snk related) again bc I think that if at least the spark is there, i feel i can be able to get back to do something when i feel is time. I still have my prompts and sketches, I'm still around even if tumblr became kinda less active or there's people that brings back 2013's discussions. I still do try to drop a drawing here and there if i put enough effort (like the one i did of historia now and im starting to hate 😂) and definitelly like to talk to people.

Let's hope is all i can say, sorry if it's not enough :'D you have @ teamfours on twitter though, they make awesome hanji squad stuff :B

I hope you're all taking good care of yourselves, maybe you feel stuck at something too who knows, don't worry, that will also pass.