#Index Fest

[nero-draco]

Othinus 2B 😳

[metalchris]

My Hell in the Harbor photos and videos

My Hell in the Harbor photos and videos

Hell in the Harbor Fest really was a hell of a way to spend Memorial Day Weekend. The entire block of Market Street in front of the Baltimore Soundstage was blocked off and fenced in for the festival. The single outdoor stage located on the northbound lane of Market Street faced North with East Pratt Street to its back which lead to lots of pedestrians hanging around gawking and the bands…

[amorisxx]

Snickerdoodle pt. iii

(Halloween special)

pairing: Art Donaldson x reader summary: The fall fest rolls around. You and Art are part of the parent committee. An unexpected meeting leads to another moment in a parking lot. warnings: smut 18+, car sex, piv, cheating, description of panic attack word count: 3.6K a/n: This part gives a bit more context to each of their lives. It doesn't really progress the plot very much, but I enjoyed writing it. previous part | next part

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

It’s a Wednesday afternoon. The house is quiet, free of the frenetic energy that children bring. Kaleb is still at school, and you’d taken the day to finish preparing your baked goods for the fall fest on Friday. The only noise to be heard is the sound of Art panting into your ear.

“Oh…f-fuck… please, please.”

Halfway through decorating the sugar cookies, he’d started pressing kisses to the side of your neck. You had tried shooing him off, but it was to no avail.

That’s how you end up pressed against the kitchen counter with your dress bunched up at the hips. One strap is halfway down your arm as Art frantically ruts into you from behind.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans into your neck. 

He has one hand holding your hip in place while his other arm pins your back against his chest. In between thrusts, he uses one hand to greedily palm at your breasts.

When you start clenching around him, Art snakes a hand around to your front. He moves his fingers to where his cock is throbbing inside you. He groans at the wetness that has seeped out of you and collected at his base. You moan when he drags his fingers up to rub desperate circles over your slippery clit.

“Want you to cum, ah, need to feel it baby, please,” he pants.

It isn’t long before you’re throwing your head back and squeezing around him.

Ѽ

“Now, will you please let me finish these cookies?” You huff. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you come over.”

He snorts. “You said you could use the help.”

“Well that’s when I thought you’d actually be of some help.”

He grins at you with lidded eyes.

The truth is Art did come over to help you, but he also came because watching you bake has become one of his favorite things to do. Since the two of you have started seeing each other more often, he’s started spending time at your place during the weekends when Kaleb has to stay with his dad. Though you don’t admit it, he’s noticed that you tend to bake when you’re worried. Art thinks it must take your mind off of things. It’s as if you go on autopilot. You disappear into the task as everything fades to the background. It reminds Art of what tennis used to feel like.

The baking also reminds him of his grandmother. Before she moved to the nursing home, she would always bake cookies for Art when he was young. He’d know because the sweet aroma would fill his nostrils upon entering the front door.

Sometimes, he was able to watch her bake and take in the entire process. It was calming for him to observe all the various steps and pass her different ingredients. He wondered how she knew the exact amount to add, and she’d tell him it was because of “years and years of practice.” Art quickly grew fond of the idea of building something up from scratch. And he learned that through lots of practice, you could make something really sweet.

So, in a way, you remind Art of his grandmother. He doesn’t tell you that though because he doesn’t think that’s the best thing to say to someone he’s just been balls deep inside. He does tell you, however, that he likes seeing you like this.

You look up at him in between adding orange icing to a cookie. Some of the icing spills onto the counter as you tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

He gestures around the kitchen. “It’s nice, you know, being able to watch you make something.”

Though you’re looking down at the cookie, he sees the smile splitting your lips open. Art leans forward and swipes the icing from the counter with his index finger before popping it into his mouth. He smiles at you around his finger, and you flush as warmth spreads throughout your body.

Ѽ

“Nancy,” you start. “I just finished setting up this entire table. I am not moving all of this again.” You gesture to the spread of homemade cookies, pumpkin shaped cake pops, and pretzel rods dipped and drizzled in orange, black, and purple icing and sprinkles. The cookies themselves were a pain to arrange. You wanted there to be an even number of skull and jack-o’-lantern shaped sugar cookies on each platter. And each cookie needed to be facing forward. You didn’t think you had the patience for some snaggletoothed kid to ask what’s this? And plant their finger right on the cookie only to decide they hate pumpkins and leave it there. 

“Okay!” She says defensively. “I just wonder if it’s such a good idea for the sweets table to be so close to the bouncy house. I wouldn’t want the kids to get sick.”

She turns to assess the giant inflated pumpkin. “I’d say they probably need a good 50 feet to walk and let the cookies settle before they start jumping up and down…don’t you think?”

You stare back blankly at the woman. “You just had me move because you said the smell of the petting zoo might ruin appetites.”

“And it could!” She whips her head back around at you, her blonde bob slapping the side of her face. “Those baby goats are cute, but they don’t smell great hon!”

You fold your arms.

“Alright.” Nancy raises a hand with a shake of her bobble head. “We won’t move,” she relents, “but could you maybe just tell each kid to eat their treats at the table, you know just to make sure they stand around for a couple of minutes before running to the bouncy castle?”

You start to tell her that it’ll be hard to control what a bunch of excited, elementary schoolers do after they get some sugar in them, but decide it’s not worth arguing with her. You glance over at her husband, Frank, who has set out his red and black folding chair next to the drink cooler. She’d instructed him to make sure each kid grabbed one drink at a time because “lord knows we’ll be picking up half full juice boxes all night.” Without so much as a glance, he’d mumbled a well versed “yes honey” and sat in his chair, staring into the distance and scratching his chest.

You decide to take a page out of Frank’s book.

“Sure, Nancy.”

Ѽ

Your table proves to be a popular one. You’re not even halfway through the festival, and most of your cake pops are gone, and the sugar cookies are depleting by the minute. You blame Art for being such a distraction that you didn’t think to bake more cookies just in case. Once he’s done with face painting duty, you plan on letting him have it.

You’re counting how many jack-o’-lantern  cookies are left on the platters when a voice interrupts you.

“I always did love your baking.”

“Chris? What are you doing here?”

Your ex husband is standing in front of you, hands in his pockets as he smiles down at your spread of goodies.

He makes his way over to your side of the table. “My boy practically begged me to come, so of course I had to show up.”

You turn and purse your lips. “Well I hadn’t heard from you so I assumed you weren’t coming. They took your name off the list at the PTA meeting.”

“Dad!”

You look over to see your son barreling towards his father. He laughs reaching out to haul him up into the air. His little pirate hat goes crooked on his head. “You came!”

“Yeah, man, I told you I would!”

They fall into their own conversation as you help serve treats to some other kids that have wandered to the table. Despite your feelings about Chris, you can’t help but smile at the sound of Kaleb’s giggles. You’re glad that his dad’s presence brings him so much joy. You remember a time when you too felt that unyielding happiness around him. That flutter in your belly and the warmth in your chest that can only be characterized as pure, genuine fondness. God, you were so fond of him.

At the time, you thought you could never experience anything better than that. It’s why you agreed to marry him. And why you also agreed to stopping your birth control. Knowing he wanted to start a family with you made you love him even more, because to have a child with someone is to irrevocably tie yourself to that person. Being loved by Chris was your point of reference for so long.

But that was before.

Before he decided you weren’t enough for him, before he decided to be withholding, before he made you feel unlovable. It turns out that having a child with someone isn’t the symbol of unconditional love that you’d believed it was. Once you had removed the rose tinted glasses, you were able to see that love isn’t something that’s promised to you. Even if someone makes that promise to you, the love itself may not endure. You’re not sure how much control Chris really had when it came to loving you. You’re still figuring out what love entails when you’re not with him.

Now, you just hope that Kaleb will never learn what it’s like to not be loved by his father. That he’ll never have to vie for his affections nor his attention. That he will always feel held by his love and not stifled by it.

You feel something poke your hip, jolting you from your thoughts. It’s Kaleb, pressing his plastic pirate’s hook into your side to get your attention. You grab the hook in your hand, reminding him to be mindful of the point. He offers you a sheepish, snaggletoothed smile. “Sorry.”

You sigh and run your hands over his curls before gently tugging his ear. It’s a habitual motion that began when he was a toddler. He could be a little rambunctious, running around the house in nothing but a pull-up to avoid bedtime. When you’d finally catch him, you would ruffle his hair and gently pinch his little ears, calling him a silly monkey. He would erupt into fits of giggles before breaking away again making “ooh-ooh ah-ah” sounds.

Kaleb takes his arm behind his back in an effort to control his hook. “Dad said I can go with him tonight!”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah! Said once this is over we can go have some real fun!”

Chris laughs, patting Kaleb’s shoulder.

“What does that mean? Real fun?” You raise an eyebrow at your ex.

“Oh Christ! I’m just gonna take him to get some ice cream or something,” he says.

“I’m just trying to make sure my son doesn’t pick up any of your…” you look over him from head to toe, “… bad habits.”

He rolls his eyes.

“But yeah, that’s fine,” you sigh. “Do you have the booster seat?”

“Yeah, and it’s the perfect height for him to see the girls at the strip club tonight,” he cracks a smile like it’s the funniest thing ever.

Kaleb catches sight of a classmate and almost knocks his dad over in his haste to run to them. Chris shouts “Be careful!” before glancing over at you and chuckling.

You curl your lip in disgust before turning toward the couple approaching your table and offering them a bright smile. You can feel Chris’ eyes on you as you move to serve them. Once they’ve gone, you turn to him.

“Is there a reason you’re still standing here?”

He chuckles. “How do you know I didn’t want some of your cookies?”

“Okay, well what are you getting?” You ask impatiently.

He doesn’t answer the question. Instead, he runs his thumb over his bottom lip and smirks, “You look really good.”

Your stomach twists.

“I miss you.” He searches your face. “You know that?”

You scoff. “No you don’t,” you say definitively before turning away from him.

You then notice that Art is making his way over to your table. He’s wearing the same black and orange “fall fest committee” shirt that you are, but his figure fills it out much better than you can. His jeans are hanging effortlessly on his hips, and you think that if he hadn’t stuck with tennis all those years, modeling would’ve been a great second option.

Your field of vision gets cut off by your mosquito of an ex husband. You literally swat at him to move away, but he’s still smiling at you.

“Please just get whatever you’re gonna get and leave me alone.”

He reaches for you. “C’mon, baby, don’t be like that.”

You yank your arm out of his reach, sending him a warning glare.

He ignores the warning, stepping closer to you to lean down near your ear. “You know every time I come pick up Kaleb, I just think, God, what will it take for me to get those pretty legs open again?”

A loud smack resounds as his head snaps to the side. You’re gritting your teeth. “Fuck you.”

He holds his cheek from where you’ve smacked him, a tiny smirk etched onto his face.

You point your finger at him. “How dare you? How dare you come to me with this shit! You have a fucking fiancée!” Your hands have started to tremble as your anger rises. “I mean, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?? You don’t get to treat me the way you did then come here saying shit like that!”

You don’t realize that Art has been standing there. He sees your trembling hands and glassy eyes and subtly positions himself between the two of you. “Is everything okay?”

You’re still glaring at your ex as if daring him to say something else.

Like the coward he is, Chris lowers his voice like he’s talking to a rabid animal. He tells you that you need to calm down before turning to Art. “Yeah, man, everything’s fine.” It’s just like him to make it seem like you’re the one who’s unhinged in the company of outsiders.

Thankfully, Art isn’t just some person.

He fully stands between the two of you, blocking you from Chris’ sight. You hear him say, “yeah well it doesn’t seem like it, man.” The muscles in his back are tense and his shoulders are square.

Chris sounds like he’s about to say something, but Art doesn’t let him finish. “I think you should leave her alone.”

You swallow and look down at your shaky hands willing them to be still.

Chris makes a move to step around Art. His jaw is clenched tight. “Respectfully, I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

Art lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. It wasn’t a request,” he says.

A second or two passes by as the two men stare at each other. Chris squints at Art, throws a glance around at you before stepping back with a laugh. He shakes his head assessing the way Art has planted himself in front of you. His eyes drop to where you’re fisting the end of Art’s t-shirt in an attempt to calm your nerves. He mumbles something about not being surprised but continues his retreat. “I’ll drop Kaleb off Sunday night,” he announces over his shoulder.

Once he’s gone, Art turns to you, rubbing his palms down your arms. “Hey,” he bends down to look you in your eyes. “You’re okay.”

It only makes your lip tremble more, the anger from earlier dissipating as something else takes over. Art tells you he’ll be right back. You bring your arms over your chest as your breathing gets heavier. The ruckus in the air is starting to feel suffocating. Your ears are ringing and you begin to feel tingling in your cheeks.

When Art comes back, he has Nancy’s husband, Frank, in tow. He tells him something, but you can’t hear him over the sound of your own heartbeat. You’re gasping for air. You barely pick up Art’s voice saying “come with me.” You let him take your hand and lead you out of the chaos.

Ѽ

The sound of Art’s car door shutting makes you realize that your face has stopped tingling. You blink as your breathing returns to normal and the static-like ringing in your ears fades away. You rub your palms over your fabric covered thighs and take one big breath before exhaling. Something moves in your peripheral vision, and you glance to your left. Art is sitting in the driver’s seat, but most of his upper body is facing you. His soft eyes watch you with a patience that makes you want to cry all over again. You reach for him.

Art immediately pulls you to him, letting you settle in his lap as you wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder. He presses a kiss to your head.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” you mumble into his shirt.

“Baby,” he runs a hand over your back.

“No, it was pathetic. I can’t believe I let him get under my skin like that.”

“It was a panic attack. It’s not your fault,” Art murmurs into your hair. “And that’s exactly why he did that. He wanted to get a reaction out of you. Don’t blame yourself.”

You lift your head up to look at him. You search his face. All you find is sincerity.

You brush your thumb over the skin behind his ear and lean in. Your noses gently bump against one another before you’re pressing your lips to his. It’s soft, slow, and deliberate. Art places his palm flat against the small of your back as he returns the kiss with equal tenderness. Through your lips and your tongue, you try to tell Art everything you aren’t able to say with your voice. And if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling you the exact same thing back.

When you bring your hips down to roll against him, Art tells you “we don’t have to.” It’s your turn to tell him that you want this.

You move to the backseat. He peppers quick kisses over you every now and then as you both work to get each other’s pants down. It would probably be quicker to simply take them off one at a time, but you two aren’t thinking properly. Your head is swimming from how bad you need him right now. Once you’ve gotten your jeans off, and Art’s are to his knees, he’s sitting back against the black leather, pulling you with him.

You release a small whimper when his wet mouth attaches to your throat. His forehead knocks against your shoulder as you reach your hands under his shirt. “Off. Please.” He lets out a soft grunt as he complies with your request.

Before he can fully toss the committee shirt to the side, you’re running your hands over his chest. You stop at his nipples, letting your thumb roll over the small buds. Despite his attempt to hold it in, Art moans when you lean down and swirl your tongue around his nipple. It makes his cock jump.

You begin to move against his hard member, seeking out the friction of him bumping against your clit. Art gets his tongue back into your mouth as he reaches under your shirt, pinching your nipples. His lips smack against yours as he brings his hands around to your back. He lets them trace down your spine until they meet the band of your underwear.

Art dips both hands into your panties and smoothes his palms over your cheeks. He grips your ass as he guides you to rock against him. You moan into his mouth before you lift your hips to allow him room to pull his underwear down his thighs.

His dick slaps against his abdomen.

Your mouth waters and your stomach clenches in anticipation. You reach for him, and Art lets you take him in your hand, pumping him one, two, three times before he’s greedily grabbing your hips. He promptly hooks his thumb in the seat of your panties. He uses the leverage to pull them to the side, and you guide his tip to rub against your sticky folds. You moan as you drag it upwards to which Art starts rutting his head against your clit.

Without warning, you press Art’s tip to your opening. He hisses when you start to sink down onto him. With him fully buried in your cunt, you let out a sigh. He wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you to his chest. You two share a kiss as he begins shallowly thrusting into you.

Ѽ

After the both of you have finished, Art doesn’t pull out right away. He keeps you there for a moment telling you he just wants to feel you for a little bit more. Naturally, you don’t protest. The two of you sit within the fogged windows of his car in blissful silence as he lazily strokes your back.

Unfortunately, the shrill ringing of your cellphone punctures that silence.

It’s Nancy.

She asks where you’ve disappeared to, then doesn’t let you respond as she tells you that Frank is at your table which is now empty. They’re going to start cleaning up in about 45 minutes.

When you rejoin the festival, you and Art spot your kids and their friends comparing their various prizes and candy. Standing off to the side is Tashi. She sends you a smile when she notices you. Your stomach drops.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

a/n: As always, let me know what you think <3 my asks are open!

[star-suh]

This is a Competition 

Choi Jongho & Song Mingi x Male Reader

cw: tops jongho and mingi, lame jokes lol, multiple rounds, cum fest, unprotected sex, gaping hole, nipple play, sweat kink, shower sex, exhibitionism, public sex, double penetration, size kink, degradation, rimjob, fingering, marking, some pet names.

an: this is a direct continuation of this fic.

—

“well, would you look at that” mingi shakes his head and pokes his cheek with his tongue, “who would've thought i would find the top football player acting like a bitch in heat in the showers with his whore”. “the fuck are you doing here mingi” jongho was visibly angry trying to hide yn's body with his.

“this is a public space you know” he walks closer to the couple “you're little horny show make some things to me” he grabs his big bulge “you both should take responsibility” he adds while undressing. “what if someone comes?” yn asks with some concern in his voice, “oh trust me, that would be the least of your worries���.

mingi jumps in the shower and stars spanking yn's ass with his dick, “fuck you really got the best whore out there, look at this pretty ass”, jongho just looks at him angrily while kissing his boyfriend. “can you make it bouncy?” he said using his fingers to make the other's ass jiggle “fuck yeah” he kneels and starts sucking on yn's hole making sure to insert his tongue deep inside.

jongho was not having it and to stop mingi he lifted one leg from yn and began to finger him, however, this only made mingi hornier and he continued sucking it, now with jongho's finger on it. 

yn was secretly enjoying what was happening, two of the hottest jocks of the campus are using him for their pleasure. to hide his moans yn bit jongho's shoulder, leaving the mark of his teeth on it. a mark that would remind him who he belongs to.

“fuck off mingi can you just leave us alone” jongho pushed him, “i'm here trying to fuck my boyfriend in peace”. “come on man look at him he's enjoying it” mingi signaled at yn with his index finger who was already lost in pleasure.

“he's not” jongho was even more angry. “why are you so mad jongjong? perhaps are you afraid that i might fuck him so good that he ends up leaving you for me?” the taller licked his lips and bite the lower one. “the fuck are you talking about?” jongho asked. mingi stood up and went closer to jongho, their faces just inches apart of each other “i said, let's see who makes him cum the most a.k.a who's the better fucker him”. jongho loves challenges like the sports player he is and seeing that this must be a way to beat mingi in his own game he accepted.

“bet”.

jongho watched while mingi fucked yn senseless in a bench inside the shower room, it almost look like he was desperate for it, as if that was the last fuck hw would have in his life. his thrusts were so harsh and sloppy that sometimes his dick slipped out of the hole with a somewhat delicious popping sound that was like music to his ears.

“my god mingi, if he was an object you would have already broken it” jongho blurted out while lazily stroking his dick. “he kinda are, look at this gooning face” he grabs yn’s face so he can see him, he was with his eyes rolled back and tongue out, “this motherfucker is already gone” mingi said, slapping yn’s cheeks.

jongho rolled his eyes, “whatever, move it’s my time”. “boo you party pooper” mingi mocked the other and pulled it out. jongho spitted on his hand and smeared it on his gaping ass. his thrust started slowly and later they were hard. “i'm not gonna let fuckass mingi to fuck you better than me. i'm the only one who can make you feel good”. he whispered on yn's ear, again with anger and competitiveness laced on his tone. he sucked on yn's neck and collarbones marking him, “you're my bitch, only mine”; “who you belong too?” he asked to the cockdrunked yn who just barely responded a breathy “y-you.. you, j-jon-... hoo~”.

‘woah he's really gone and we're just getting started’ mingi thought  walking near yn's head to use his throat as a fleshlight “come on fucker, milk me dry with that throat” he says through clenched teeth. 

as the minutes passed yn was still being used while the two tops were still battling for dominance of the bottom, it was as if the world around them ceased to exist, they didn't care if someone came in and saw them, their only goal was to fuck yn until they both got tired. 

with no warning yn came hands free, ropes of white cum landing on his torso, followed by mingi who emptied his balls deep inside his throat, “so fucking tight” mingi groaned and pulled out. yn gag reflexes kicked in making him cough some cum mixed with thick saliva that dripped down his face, “i just did a masterpiece” mingi proudly said folding his arms on his chest.

jongho came seconds later, yn’s insides being painted in white sticky cum. “damn…” he sighed trying to regain his breath. 

“what? are you tired already?” mingi said with a cocky smile “i still have a lot on here” he massaged his balls. 

“you wish” jongho muttered.

“what just happened?” a dizzy yn said caressing his forehead, he then stared dumbfounded at the mirror, watching his hole ruined and dripping with cum “holy shit” he just muttered. 

“what do you think, baby boy, you like my work of art?” a smug mingi says stroking his already hard dick “brace yourself because i’m just starting” he adds…

“have you seen mingi?” san, who's part of mingi's team asked to another member. “nope, he's been gone for almost an hour” he responded. san just looked everywhere trying to see if he was coming to the training but it seems that no…

“fuckkkkkk” groaned jongho loudly accompanied by the skin slapping sound causes by his hard thrusts. meanwhile mingi forced yn's throat down his shaft, pushing his head and locking it with his thighs. a moan escaped from the taller's throat, he tried not to cum but he did nonetheless flooding that tight throat with his warm thick seed.

yn tried to swallow it all but failed, instead he spitted back some of it right on top of mingi’s dick covering it with the mix of saliva and his cum. his face was red and sweaty, the hair sticking on his forehead due to it. “you're so fucking pretty” mingi complimented and kissed the desperate bottom boy. jongho came inside yn, his dick twitching inside his velvety walls while spurting ropes of cum. this caused mingi having to swallow yn’s moans because they were still kissing.

now mingi used the saliva and cum sliding down his shaft as lube to rail yn’s hole again “this poor ass need weeks of resting to recover from today” the taller top pinched his nipples and then began to spank the ass not stopping until he came inside meaning that he was going to leave that ass with a bright red hue. jongho was using yn’s throat gently knowing that he is going to wake up sore tomorrow. then an idea formed in mingi’s head, he laid down on the bench and yn ride him, then he opened both cheeks showing to jongho how his boyfriend’s ass is swallowing his cock. he was biting yn’s nipples but in between gritted teeth he said “there's room for one more”. catching the idea jongho nodded and put it inside “shit.. this feels amazing” the smaller top moaned starting to move his hips trying to reach that amazing feeling only his boyfriend, and now also mingi, could give him…

“hey mingi, where were you? you didn't come to the training” san asked right away after seeing mingi sitting on one of the campus’ benches, “i was… somewhere doing some things… mind your own business”. san only hummed but noticed mingi was watching something or rather someone, yn was sitting with his boyfriend jongho while eating in one of the benches across the field. san almost has an idea of what was happening and just smiles as he lies down on the bench. 

[satorusugurugurl]

Ferris Wheel

Summary: Marie’s Summer Fest prompt: Ferris Wheel

Pairing: Fushiguro Toji x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: public play, fingering, exhibitionism, degrading, dirty talk, sort of dom themes

Word Count: 1,242

A/N: The Tojo brain rot has been so real! bark bark bark wooof!! 🥵

The smell of deep-fried food and motor oil from the amusement park did not sound like a very good combination of smells, but as you held your boyfriend's hand wandering through the park, you had to disagree. Smelling all the different scents, from the fried Oreos to the cotton candy being made, had your mouth watering! The bright lights, the sounds of delightful screaming, and the way to Toji squeeze your hand

“Hey,” a large hand ruffled the top of your head, pulling your attention away from the different food vendors. “Did you still want to ride the Ferris wheel?”

Toji strokes some of your stray hairs away from your face while he carries the giant turtle plushy. He had one for you under his other arm. He had completed a well-paying job and decided to take you to an amusement park after you complained about it while Shiu drove you back to the hotel. You insisted to him that it was an excellent way to unwind after getting a fat paycheck

“Yeah!” You beamed, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the Ferris wheel, only for him to stop.

“I gotta wash my hands first; give me a second.” You cocked an eyebrow taking the turtle plushy from your boyfriend while waiting off to the side for him to return. Why would he need to wash his hands before getting on another amusement park ride

His strange behavior disappeared to the back of your mind. But once you slid into the swing on the Ferris wheel, you couldn’t help but notice how his hands remained in his pockets until you got into the swinging seat. You only realized why his hands remained in his pockets as soon as you were out of any eyes when his hand gripped your thighs, squeezing it gently as the multicolored lights of the Ferris wheel danced across his face.

‘Have I told you how sexy that little sundress looks on you?” To emphasize his point, Toji’s fingers slid under the hem of your lilac dress.

“No, you haven’t.”

Fingers further up, running along the inside of your thighs. “Well, I had planned on taking you back to the hotel room and worshiping you in it. But somebody wanted funnel cake and wouldn’t shut up about it.” An almost breathless giggle passes through your lips.

“Yeah, it was delicious.”

“Hmm,” his rough fingers push your soaked panties to the side. “But it’s not as tasty as you.”

Oh fuck, this was why he had washed his hands

Just as the realization strikes you, he slides his index and middle finger slowly over your slick folds, lubing up his fingers. Once he deemed them wet enough, Toji shoved them inside of your cunt, growling at the way your wet walls hugged him as he set a slow pace, pumping them in and out of you. Your boyfriend smirked at how you brought the turtle plushy up to your mouth to muffle the sounds of your moans. He slowly focuses on your weak spot, that sweet, spongy spot inside of you, since he doesn’t have much time to get you off.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, T-Toji.” Your voice muttered into the plushie. “Nnngh fuck—”

“Yeah, does my pretty little girlfriend like when I finger fuck her stuffing her tight little pussy in public?” The bustling of the crowd, rides, and games are nearly drowning out the wet squelching sounds of Toji’s fingers fucking into you. Your boyfriend, however, could hear every sweet sound that your pussy made, along with the moans and cries you fought back. “You don’t have to answer that. Your pretty little pussy squeezing down on my fingers already did.”

Toji uses his thumb to rub teasing circles around your clit as your fingers dig into your stuffed animal as the swing you’re in stops at the very top of the ride. You can hear the couple below you laughing and talking. Unaware of the fact that your boyfriend was knuckles deep inside of you, pushing you closer towards your orgasm. Toji’s navy eyes were glued on your pulse, watching it quicken with each carefully calculated stroke of his fingers. Your boyfriend knows you're close by the way your thighs clamp around his hand and how your breath quickens as your eyes dart towards him, full of unfiltered.

“Close,” you whimper, your hips slowly rocking against his hand.

“Close? Are you gonna cum baby?” You nod. “Alright, you can cum when I count to zero. How does that sound?”

“Yes, please.”

“Ten.” Toji rubbed your sweet spot harder. “Nine, fuck you’re so cute, eight—” your mind is fuzzy, lost in pleasure as the Ferris wheel slowly starts to move again. “Oooh, would you look at that? We better hurry up.”

You feel like you’re going to explode as Toji continues to slowly count down as you get closer and closer to the end of your ride. Your pussy twitches as you turn your head, lips slightly parted with soft cries. Your dark-haired muscle mass of a boyfriend smirks, speeding his fingers up, fucking into you faster, savoring the way you tilted your head back

“Three~”

“Toji, please—”

“Please, what, baby?”

You can hear the sounds of the crowd lined up to get on getting closer. “Please let me cum—” The smell of sandalwood and gunpowder wafts over you as Toji leans close to your ear.

“What was that? Say it louder?”

“Please let me cum—” You please in a harsh whisper.

“That’s a good girl, two—” fingers curl inside of you, moving in and out faster. “—one—” God, you’re so close to the end of the ride, and you’re close to reaching that sweet release. “It would be fun to edge you right now.”

“Toji, please!”

The desperation and tears in your eyes have all thoughts of edging out the window. “Zero, cum, you little slut.” Toji commands, pressing down on your g-spot as hard as he can.

You were mere seconds from screaming out his name as you gush over his fingers, but Toji luckily catches your lips on his, sucking in every moan that slips out of your mouth as you cum all over his fingers. Just before you reach the bottom, Toji adjusts your panties and dress before seductively licking and sucking his fingers clean as your ride reaches the end.

The smirk on your boyfriend's face is wide as you struggle to stand up. Your struggles don’t go unnoticed as you win a concerned look from the ride operator. Instead of continuing to watch you struggle, Toji wraps around your waist, helping to steady you as he grins at the questioning, watchful eyes of the teenager who focuses on your shaking legs.

“She’s scared of heights,” Toji answers the question that isn’t asked. In turn, he ignores skeptical glances from the other park-goers as he leads you down the stairs.

“You asshole, I’m gonna make you regret that stunt you just pulled.” There was, however, not much heat in your tone, which means you weren’t all that serious.

A firm smack on your ass is how Toji responds before blowing on your ear. “Oh baby, I’d love to see you fucking try.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

Summer Fest Tag List:

@typicalife-101

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Happy Birthday - Jack Howl

In celebration of Jack's birthday, here is a list of the things I've written with him. 🥳

Onesie Party - All NRC Students. Fluff; GN Reader.

5 Love Languages - All NRC Students; Fluff; List.

First Date - Savanaclaw - (Leona; Jack & Ruggie ) Fluf; GN Reader; Flirting; Kissing

Sending Love - Part 1 - Heartslabyul (Riddle, Ace; Deuce; Cater; Trey); Savanaclaw (Leona; Jack; Ruggie) & Octavinelle (Azul; Jade; Floyd) Fluff; GN Reader; Bullet Points

Yuu Needs a Hug 1 - Heartslabyul (Riddle, Ace; Deuce; Cater; Trey); Savanaclaw (Leona; Jack; Ruggie) & Octavinelle (Azul; Jade; Floyd) Fluff; GN Reader; Comfort; Bullet Points; In a Relationship

A Break Under The Lights - Port Fest Steering Committee (Floyd, Ruggie, Rook & Jack) Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kissing.

Meaningful Kiss 2 - Freshmen (Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Sebek) Bullet Points; Fluff; GN Reader; Romantic Relationship; Kissing; Flirting

Sharing a Bed - Stitch’s Tropical Turbulence (Riddle; Ace; Jack; Azul; Floyd; Lilia) Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kiss; Beginning of Relationship

For a Quarter of a Second - Track and Field Club (Deuce Spade / Jack Howl) Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kiss; Comfort

Yuutsum 1 - Twisted Tsumderland 1 Tsumsitters (Riddle; Cater; Leona; Jack; Floyd; Epel; Sebek) Fluff; GN Reader

REQUESTS

Rescuing You - Deuce; Jack; Floyd & Kalim () Fluff; GN Reader; Love Confessions

I am Not Jealous - Freshmen (Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel & Sebek); Fluff; GN Reader

Cheering for Them - Track and Field Club (Deuce; Jack) Fluff; GN Reader; Bullet Points; Established Relationship

Someone Broke In! - Freshmen (Ace; Deuce; Jack; Epel; Sebek) Fluff; GN Reader.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[thenaughtynorth]

Marital Bliss, part I

Damian Priest x fem!reader, smutty, fluffy

“I can’t believe my own eyes” Damian mumbled happily as he wiped away a small tear that had crept down his cheek. “You look fucking incredible, baby,” he continued, “I can’t believe I get to marry you.”

This man just knew how to make me feel so insanely loved, appreciated, and seen. It was a no-brainer from the moment we first met; of course I was going to marry him.

The large, toothy smile he flashed contrasted his dark demeanor and tall self in his black, velvet suit. He was the one who looked fucking incredible. I had never thought I’d end up with someone as passionate, caring and amazing as Damian - but here we were, standing face to face at the end of the aisle. Surrounded by all of our loved ones, ready to say our “I dos”.

Time stood still as we said our vows, and what felt like hours, were only the first minutes of our forever together. I had tried my very hardest to not cry and ruin my makeup, but I hadn’t made it through Damian’s vows without tears running down my face.

“You may kiss the bride” and he sure did. He took his sweet time, slowly caressing my cheek with his giant hand. A hand that had, ever since I first met him, always been decorated with multiple rings of all shapes and sizes, but now only held the most important of all. A ring that symbolized our commitment, our love, everything we’d been through and everything we would be going through. It was silver and cool as it lingered on my cheek. He leaned in and connected our lips in the most tender kiss we’d ever shared. My heart was beating a thousand miles an hour and I was almost afraid that it was going to pop out of my chest and out of my wedding dress. It was clear he never wanted the kiss to end, as he held me tightly, almost as if he were afraid I was going to blow into the ocean with the soft Puerto Rican winds.

The party was an absolute love fest and I loved being Damian’s bride. We had been dancing all night, enjoyed the amazing Puerto Rican cuisine, and we were the happiest we’d ever been. My friends and I were having the time of our lives, sipping on tequila and enjoying some more dessert. My eyes searched the area for my husband. And there he was, in a group with his friends. He was already looking at me, seemingly not listening to a word his friends were saying. He had a dark expression in his eyes, paired with a smug “I know something you don’t”-smile. He held up his glass of rum in a gesture to me and he took a large sip. I mimicked his gesture, held up my own glass and took a sip. The liquor had my cheeks burning up. Or maybe that was Damian’s doing? The way he was looking at me intently, not breaking eye contact. Or maybe the way he was sitting, no suit jacket, sleeves rolled up with his legs spread so far, I could’ve fittingly been sitting on my knees in between. He rested his other hand on his thigh, near his knee, and I noticed that he was tapping it rhythmically with his index finger. That little tease. He knows I love his muscular thighs. His shirt was unbuttoned quite far down his chest, revealing some of his delicious chest, tanned, tattooed skin and the large, silver cross he had on a slim chain. The cross glimmered in my eye, ironically, because there was absolutely nothing holy or sacred about the filthy thoughts that entered my mind, upon seeing my husband like that.

The air between us was so thick and filled with anticipation, on our way to our suite. We were both slightly buzzed on our respective brown liquors, but still very well aware of what was going to happen when we got through the door. He turned to me before he breached the doorway, lifted me in his arms and kissed me. It was as tender as the one we’d shared after we officially became Mr and Mrs. “What was that for?” I asked lovingly. “I just wanted to kiss you gently one last time before I go disrespect you completely in bed” he coldly stated.

His lips were on mine again immediately after we’d closed and locked the door. His body was pressed against mine and I felt his neediness in both his kiss and the hardness of his dick against my dress clad stomach. I kissed back ferociously as I backed him towards a chair in the room. I pushed him down to sit, him a little shocked at the tiny display of dominance. “You sir,” I started as I swiftly placed my long, bare, stiletto-wearing leg on the chair in between his legs, “you’ve been upgraded to the premium “wife-package”. This means you can do whatever the fuck you want to me, whenever the fuck you want.” He was gawking at me, very intensely. Speechless, curious and with his mouth slightly opened. I moved my foot dangerously close to his crotch and leaned in to speak again: “Do you want Mrs. Priest to put your big cock in her mouth?” Damien groaned and nodded enthusiastically, “Yes mamacita, please do. Mrs. Priest has a filthy mouth, huh?” He bit his lip as I sank to my knees in front of him. I almost had to duck, as I freed him from his pants and boxers. His dick looked extraordinarily large and plump and somehow intimidating to me as I was only inches away. I gently started to pump him in my hand as I made eye contact with him. He was smirking down at me. His giant hand caressed my cheek and he determinedly grabbed my hair in the back of my neck and gave it a tight pull. I took the tip in my mouth and sucked, causing Damian to groan and buck his hips. I took him even deeper in my throat - and gagged. “Fuckkk baby”, he intuitively bucked his hips even more, but it was a lost cause. I couldn’t fit anymore of him in my mouth and throat, even if I desperately wanted to. His shaft was too long and don’t even get me started on his width.

The sight of Damian’s bride choking on his dick was enough to get him near the edge of his release. He thought I looked amazing and angelic in white. The fact that we were now married was fucking electric. We had truly found our soulmates in one another. He had tapped out, not wanting to come already, as he pulled my mouth to his and gave me a longing and starving kiss. Whilst our lips were interlocked, he rose to his feet and all of a sudden he was towering over me again. He gently pushed me back on the bed, lifted my leg and placed the sharp heel of my stiletto on the part of his chest that was bursting out of the opening of his tight shirt. He pushed up against it, my heel sinking ever so slightly into his skin. He licked his bottom lip and smirked, whilst rubbing my bare calf. “So.. this “wife-package”.. what more does it include?” He asks. “Well what do you think?” I cockily asked. “I think it means I get to touch you here.” He inched smoothly down my leg. I nodded. He continued. “And here.. especially here.” His hand met the lacy white border of my panties before he pushed a long finger inside of me. I gasped eagerly. This man was going to be the death of me. “Dios mio mami, you’re soaking wet,” he breathily stated, “you’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you?” He knew exactly how to use his words and make me into a complete fucking mess. He added another finger, starting to stretch me out. Lord knows I needed it if I were going to take all of Damian. Never had I ever needed this much preparation before being with anyone, but he was a welcome exception. You’d think years and years of dirty, rough and mind blowing sex would’ve made it much easier to take his impressive size, but it sure as hell hadn’t. “I’ve been thinking about this ever since I walked down that aisle. You look fucking unreal in that suit.” I admitted. He released my leg, leaving an impressive indentation on his chest, from where my stiletto had slightly impaled him. He quickened the pace of his fingers, ironically impaling me instead. “Keep talking baby and I’ll add a third.”

hehe, part 2 incoming

[sexxyasia]

right there [!stepbro! luke castenllan x !fem! reader]

SUMMARY: luke's rather eager to lose his v-card, but he doesn't know who to give it to yet. until he finds out his step sister is more than willing to help him out, and even teaches him some tricks.

WARNINGS: stepcest, unprotected sex (so sad) dom reader, kinda porn w no plot, i mean there's SOME plot, fingering, uses of y/n, dick sucking, luke losing his virginity, vanilla sex, luke is a loser 🥱, mentions of luke watching porn bc why not, big dick nerd type thing, and experienced reader x virgin luke.

TYSM TO ANON FOR THIS REQUEST, I LITERALLY COULDN'T WAIT TO WRITE IT!!!

!MDNI!

༄𓇼🪩𓇼༄𓇼🪩𓇼༄

your parents weren't home, and the furnace broke mid-winter.

"here's another blanket." luke says throwing a light blue knit blanket on top of you.

"what, you're not cold?" you ask him "no, i'm freezing, i just keep moving. i guess it works when you're moving a lot and like really fast..." he replied

after thinking about it for a second you stupidly blurted out "so like sex would keep you warm?"

luke swallowed hard and giggled, "yeah, i guess. if you do it like that."

a loud silence filled the room.

"would cuddling also make you warm?" you replied trying to clear the awkwardness

"yeah, it would. any heat would probably make you less cold i guess." he said.

"then we should maybe turn on a movie and do that..." you cockily said. "okay." he replied rather quick.

༄𓇼🪩𓇼༄𓇼🪩 𓇼༄

the two of you turned rubbed closer and closer warming up under a big white blanket.

your eyes got heavy at the movie luke picked; die hard. this was his all time favorite movie but you couldn't stand it.

"what, you don't like this?" luke giggled.

"no, i hate this. you're such a weirdo for picking this weird ass movie. and it kinda reminds me of you..." you replied in an annoyed sigh.

"how!" luke said in an offended tone.

"this movie is just one big virgin fest, like you and your friends." you laughed, obviously not being genuine.

but of course luke didn't catch onto your sarcasm. "how'd you know." he seriously answered.

you're still thinking the two of you were just having a flirty banter you added on. "just look at you, i mean it's so clear that you haven't been in pussy since the day you came out one!" you quoted.

luke pushed off of you and sank into the couch. "i'm the only virgin in my friend group, and i'm the only virgin on the soccer team...i guess i'm ready. i just haven't met anyone yet."

you finally caught on after he said that. "oh, there's nothing wrong with that. i was just joking." you frantically added.

"no it's okay. I shouldn've taken it that seriously anyways." he awkwardly said.

again, without thinking you blurted out. "i could be the right person, if you're okay with that."

lukes face lit up before he replied. "sure."

༄𓇼🪩𓇼༄𓇼🪩𓇼༄

kissing and grinding you played with lukes brown curls and rubbed along his neck, he lightly whimpered against your lips and you grinded on him faster.

"what's the matter luke." you asked after breaking the kiss, lips still inches away. "are you gonna tell anyone...?" he asks with his brown eyes looking directly into yours.

"not unless you ask me to." you reply, he shakes his head in a certain answer. "but what's the point of losing it if you're not gonna tell anyone?" you ask "to just... feel... different i guess." he delicately said.

"could we start now?" he asks without looking into your eyes like usual. you lightly giggle, "luke, do you know anything about women? i mean i'm wet but not enough to put it in yet." you say.

"then what should i do to make you more... y'know." he sincerley asked.

you rolled over on the couch so that your legs were spread you gestured him over to you.

he scooted over towards you and gulped. "you can finger me if you wanna make me wetter..."

he nodded and hovered over you, his hand ripped off your pajama pants and panties, swiftly. his index finger slowly trailed from your stomach to your clit.

"now what?" he whispered. "just keep rubbing 'til i say stop... okay?"

he shook his head 'yes' and rubbed your clit with just enough pressure and speed. when luke watched porn, he didn't just watch it, he analyzed it. so he kinda knew what he was doing already.

he looked you directly in your eyes as he rubbed faster and faster.

"okay.. okay stop!" you yelled out as he inched you closer and closer to your orgasm.

he moved so you could get up and you stripped off your shirt and bra.

"your turn." you said.

you dropped onto your knees infront of luke and gulped. "what're you gonna do?" luke swallowed. "you'll see." you replied.

"take off your shirt" you demanded. he obeyed and quickly stripped out of it.

your hands fumbled with his pant waistband. before getting them around his ankles.

he was left in nothing but his calvin klein boxers, his hard cock pulsed in his underwear before you pulled it down.

woah

you'd expect luke to be pretty average, like around 4.5-5. you hadn't expected luke to be this big. he was probably around 7-8...

you slowly licked his tip and watched as his eyes fluttered shut and his mouth slowly fell open.

your touch wondered all over his veiny cock as he tried to hold in his moans.

stroking slowly you wrapped your mouth all the way around his cock, meeting your hand with your lips.

slightly gagging you took as much as you could. occasionally looking up at luke and seeing him try his best to hold in his moans

his big calloused hands wandered to the back of your head and he lightly massaged the back of your head.

as luke got more into it you pulled of and sat on the couch.

"c'mere luke." he gulped and walked over, he awkwardly sat next to you.

in a swift move you rolled over and straddled his lap.

"i'm gonna ride you ok?" he shook his head in agreement as you dropped down on his cock, letting your wet cunt adapt to his big shape.

he groaned at the velvety wetness of your pussy. his hands gripped the couch cushion as you rode him at a medium pace.

"you like that." his eyes were closed tightly as your cunt fluttered around him.

he nodded and grinded into you while you rode him. in amazement your head fell back and your eyes shut.

you could feel luke throbbing inside of you while you moved, causing you to be filled with ecstasy.

the both of you moved quicker and quicker until a loud moan left lukes mouth.

"sorry" he whispered. his hot seed filled you up and dripped all over his cock and inside your cunt.

"it's not that serious" you breathily whispered to him.

his head fell back and he caught his breath. "so how do you feel now?" you asked.

"i dunno, different... kinda like i hoped." you smiled to him and rested your head on his shoulder.

"we should probably get dressed before our parents get home." you added

comment to be added to my luke taglist

@jade-is-jaded

(yes, i did quote jcole's wet dreamz bc why not)

[devirnis]

kiss the cook

Rating: E Relationship: Evan Buckley/Tommy Kinard Word count: 2.4k

“See something you like?” Buck asks, puffing out his chest a little. “Not gonna lie…” Tommy reaches out and pinches the fabric of the apron between his index finger and thumb. “This is really doing it for me.” (Coda for 7x07 “Ghost of a Second Chance”) Five Alarm Fest: coda or missing scene

(read on ao3)

[h34vybottom]

Square Enix is shuttering Toaru Majustu no Index Imaginary Fest after four years of operation, on 2 December 2024. Imaginary Fest, released 4 July 2019, will have an offline mode w/ some carry-overs from the online release.

This post and everything under it are about service shutdowns for 2024. This is by no means a conclusive post nor will I be able to find everything myself. If you notice anything I've missed, feel free to shoot me an ask about it.

[fruitcoops]

Adrift

Day 9: completing the trifecta with Logan! Characters belong to @lumosinlove and header is from @noots-fic-fests, doing the lord's work of continuing the fest.

Yesterday's movie: The Prisoner of Azkaban (2004) with dear Moony.

The world was quiet and beautiful.

Logan let his eyes fall to slits. He was cool despite the sun blistering above him, blinding him and turning what little remained to splintered lens flares. The water lapped at his sides and crept along the webbing between his fingers. It was…light. All of it.

“Hey, you.” A new kind of light; a kiss to his forehead. “Thought I lost you for a sec.”

Logan smiled and rolled over, kicking his legs as he went until he was upright. Finn’s grin was crooked and sweet—he ducked quickly to spit a spout of water that made Logan grimace and splutter with a halfhearted splash his way.

“Knutty’s looking at the fish,” Finn said, as if he could read Logan’s mind. His pale shoulders flexed with a push of his arm through the crystalline water. Finn dipped back into the water, then shook his hair out, tipping his head to the side to clear his ear. Logan had watched him do that so many times. Hotel pools, the lake at home, just out of reach at the French seaside, beside Leo in New Orleans.

Logan slipped the bottom half of his face below the surface. Not salt water, though it smelled like the sea. The lake, then? He couldn’t see dry land over Finn’s shoulder.

“I like swimming with you,” Finn said, matter-of-fact.

Logan couldn’t help a surprised twitch of his eyebrows as he straightened. “Ouais?”

“Ways.” Finn laughed at the answering flick of water from Logan’s fingertips. It was the one he liked so much it used to scare him, the cackle-giggle Finn saved exclusively for his misbehavior.

Logan wasn’t scared now. Just in love. “I like swimming with you, too.”

“I know,” Finn sighed, paddling toward him. Logan treaded water absently. He didn’t need to focus much when Finn would be there to take his weight if he asked. A wet nose poked him on the cheek. “I think you just like me.”

“Maybe.”

“Uh-huh.”

Logan dragged the side of his cheek along Finn’s until his mouth could brush the edge of his smile. Denial was nothing to him anymore. “Yeah.”

“Oui, oui, Frenchie-French.”

“You’re getting better,” he mused.

Finn’s irises had gone coppery in the sun. “Lots of practice. Le’s bringing you shells.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s a secret, but you’re gonna need a bigger boat.” Finn widened his eyes playfully and pressed his index finger to his own lips. “Or pockets, I guess. Shh. Don’t tell.”

“Safe with me.”

“Always.”

Logan reached a leg down to tangle his ankle around Finn’s calf, tugging him closer. He hoped Finn was wearing his blue trunks. They were delightfully small, but they also made him look like creamy chocolate-chip ice cream waiting to be licked up, so. A fan favorite, to be sure. Logan wondered if he’d be allowed to slather the next round of sunscreen on those legs.

Finn’s nose scrunched when Logan reached out and pushed his hair off his forehead. Water dribbled down the planes of his face before vanishing in the lapping waves. “Your hands are cold.”

“Water.”

“Still cold.”

“Fine, I’ll stop messing with you then.”

“No, nope, nom nom nom.” Finn caught his wrist and pulled it back to rest on top of his head. The water bobbed around them.

Logan watched his face for a moment: the line of his nose, the rounds of his ears sticking out from dark auburn hair, the way the sea (or whatever it was) sparkled on his skin as it fell in rivulets down each angle. Finn watched him right back. It didn’t feel like being burned alive anymore. “Can we stay?”

Sympathy dimpled Finn’s cheeks. “No, baby.”

“I like it here.” He did. He liked it so much.

“I know.”

“Peanut’s bringing me shells.”

 “You’re tired.”

Logan didn’t feel tired. He was wide awake and cool from the breeze. He couldn’t even feel the sun on his shoulders. “Am I?”

“Mhm. You and Le have been down in the basement all day, making sure the TV works for the party.”

Logan tilted his head, confused. “My grandmother doesn’t have a basement. Neither do Leo’s parents. You know that.”

Finn seemed unfazed, lost in trailing ripples in the water over Logan’s arms. “You work so hard,” he whispered, nuzzling up to Logan’s jaw with a smile he could hear. “Ease up. Go home.”

“I want to stay,” he protested.

Finn was close enough to kiss each cheekbone tenderly. A hello, but also a goodbye. “Go on. Leo’s calling.”

--

Finn was there when Logan pried his eyelids open to the hurried slaps of Leo’s hand. He was sound asleep, mumbling about birds. They were both dry. The ocean was nowhere to be found.

Lunettes. Leo was asking him about glasses. This close, he could see the cerulean clarity of Leo’s eyes. Logan pushed himself up onto one elbow. The shells were already fading from his mind.

[hprecfest]

HP Rec Fest 2023 - Roundup

It has been a wonderful event!

This is the roundup post in which all the recs are organized by prompts.

Thanks again to everyone who participated! ❄️❄️❄️

Day 1 - A favorite fic under 5k

Day 2 - A comfort fic

Day 3 - A podfic

Day 4 - A fic with art

Day 5 - A non-AO3 fic

Day 6 - An unreliable narrator fic

Day 7 - A canon-compliant fic

Day 8 - A canon-divergence fic

Day 9 - A rare pair fic (less than 2000 fics on AO3)

Day 10 - A fest fic

Day 11 - A dark fic

Day 12 - A WIP you’re following

Day 13 - A fic with over 100k words

Day 14 - A favorite series

Day 15 - The most recent fic you bookmarked

Day 16 - A fic that made you laugh

Day 17 - A fic that made you cry

Day 18 - A fairy-tale inspired fic

Day 19 - Fic with the hottest smut

Day 20 - A fic rated G

Day 21 - A thought-provoking fic

Day 22 - An unfinished fic (hasn’t updated in 10 years or author stated it been abandoned)

Day 23 - A soulmate fic

Day 24 - A holiday fic

Day 25 - A fic rated T

Day 26 - A fic with an ending you can’t stop thinking about

Day 27 - A Muggle-AU fic

Day 28 - An under-rated fic

Day 29 - A post-canon fic

Day 30 - A pre-canon fic

Day 31 - A fav amongst favs

Bonus tag index ❄️

All posts are cross-tagged for character and ship. While we would like to provide a full index of these, it may take a while to compile given the extensive number of these. In the meantime, we would like to offer this much-abridged character and ship tag index, ordered alphabetically by first name.

Characters

Albus Dumbledore Draco Malfoy Ginny Weasley Harry Potter Hermione Granger James Potter James Sirius Potter Lily Evans Potter Minerva McGonagall Pansy Parkinson Regulus Black Remus Lupin Ron Weasley Severus Snape Sirius Black Teddy Lupin Tom Riddle

Ships

Draco/Harry Harry/Severus Harry/Tom Riddle Hermione/Draco James/Lily No ship (gen fic) Sirius/Remus

[theharrowing]

Showstopper 📸 3: Nobody has ever made me feel this way

Hoseok knows the rumors.

Everyone in the industry knows the rumors.

Min Yoongi is a player. Min Yoongi is a snake. Stand in front of Min Yoongi’s camera, and you will be just another one of his victims – prey for him to use as he pleases and toss away when he gets bored.

📸 Hoseok x Yoongi

📸 word count: 18.7k

📸 strangers to lovers, model & photographer au, angst, smut, fluff, slash, nsfw, 18+

📸 warnings: Hoseok & Yoongi switch; they are both hot and cold & there is plenty of angst; footsie that turns to cockstepping; explicit discussion of sexual acts; jealousy; attempts at communication; dry humping; hair pulling; use of "good boy"; mouth spitting; blowjobs; deepthroating; a lot of drool; brief delicate cheek slapping; cum swallowing; some overstimulation; frotting; Yoongi is surprisingly submissive; sexual acts happen while somewhat under the influence but not drunk.

📸 notes: this chapter is very dialogue heavy!!! i hope some plot points don't feel too rushed or contrived, but i am trying to squeeze everything into my 4 planned chapters, since i have so much on my plate! 💜

📸 written for the BTS Found Fest!

📸 thanks to @neoneunnajimin for beta reading.

📸 posted jan. 2024 | read on ao3

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Hoseok cannot, for the life of him, pretend that kiss never happened. 

He may as well be drunk each day with the way he spaces out, misses instruction, and does not seem to be fully aware of his surroundings. He is clumsy, always staring at Yoongi's hands, and forgetting to change poses without being told. 

And to make matters worse, Yoongi's moodiness has ramped up. He is quick to snap his fingers and bark instructions. 

"Model," he will say, not using Hoseok's name, "get your head out of the fucking clouds, what is going on with you?"

With a shrug and maybe a yawn, Hoseok will sigh and bat his eyelashes. "Sorry, boss," he will make his voice soft and sweet as candy floss, "just tired this week."

The thing is, Hoseok is coasting until he finds out whether Dior wants more from him. He already has the cover and the money shots – the shit he is doing this week is all random filler images that Yoongi will keep a stock of in case he needs something for an ad. Random outfits, random backdrops, random accessories. 

Why he is bothering to do any of this right now seems pointless. It is almost as if Yoongi is just asking him to be around for the sake of having him around, and Hoseok finds it tedious. After his hot shot Dior campaign, he deserves a vacation. He wore a merkin, for fuck's sake. 

During the third day of this nonsense, Namjoon comes sighing into the makeup room, shaking his head. There are other models around, so he waits to get up close to Hoseok's ear to mutter, "You're really getting under his skin. Are you trying to get fired?"

Hoseok simply stares at him with one eyebrow raised. He knows Yoongi has told Namjoon about the kiss – he tells Namjoon about everything. 

Namjoon confirms that he at least knows something by rolling his eyes, shaking his head, and saying, "Well, he has asked me to invite you to dinner with him today so the two of you can speak."

"I have nothing to say to him," Hoseok says, holding out his perfectly manicured left hand to inspect whether his nails are still shiny and well-groomed – they are. "If he wants to invite me out, he can do it, himself."

On top of everything else, Hoseok is playing hard to get. If Yoongi wants to see or speak to him, he can earn the right. One does not barge into Hoseok's apartment, surprise him with a life-altering kiss, and then carry on like everything is fine. Absolutely not. 

He wants to annoy Yoongi by playing footsie with him under a restaurant booth, or seduce him up in his big, dark office, but not let him have anything more than another kiss. Just to show him that he is not fully in control. 

But he doesn't want to make it obvious to the other models. He has no desire to commiserate with them over the ways Yoongi has used them. 

Ultimately, Hoseok wants to come out on top – figuratively and literally. He wants to have Yoongi sprawled out across that big, leather-topped desk of his, moaning Hoseok's name in his deep, raspy timbre. That's the goal. 

Namjoon pulls out his phone and thumbs around, dimples on display as he smiles to himself. Hoseok likes it when Namjoon plays along with his cattiness, and he imagines that Namjoon is relaying his message to Yoongi. 

Meanwhile, models come and go, all shooting with different photographers throughout the massive studio space. Only Hoseok and Sunmi have Yoongi's attention, and Hoseok has been attempting to watch like a hawk to see if any flirtatious behavior is exchanged, but much to his chagrin, Sunmi only seems to be behind Yoongi's lens when Hoseok is busy getting his hair and makeup done. 

He wonders how many more models Yoongi will kiss this week. How many does he text to ask if they need a ride home? How many go out to lunch with him in secluded corner booths and shower at his home studio?

Whereas before, Hoseok thought he was catching feelings for Yoongi, now he is determined for it to be a power play only. He just wants to fuck him once to get it out of his system – mark up that round little ass of his. Then he can leave this whole stupid company behind. 

Hoseok is balls deep in a mental image of Yoongi bent over his large desk when he hears the man's voice cut through his imagination, bringing him back to reality.

"Hoseok."

Hoseok looks up to find Yoongi's head peeking into the room. Namjoon is still present, still on his phone, but Hoseok can tell by his expression – by the way his eyes are staring unmoving at the device – that he is definitely eavesdropping. 

"Yes, boss?" Hoseok asks with as much indifference as he can muster. 

"How would you like to come on a little field trip with me? Dior wants to discuss a second round of outfits, and I could use some dinner."

Hoseok stretches his back and lets out a deep sigh, then he slouches in his chair and shrugs, acting bored. "Sure. Sounds fun."

Rather than respond, Yoongi simply leaves the room. Hoseok stands to follow, but Namjoon stops him in his tracks. 

"Let's find you something nice to wear," he says.

Hoseok looks down at his favorite baby blue cropped tee and low-rise daisy duke denim shorts and says, "What are you talking about? I look amazing."

"I didn't say you didn't look amazing," Namjoon responds with a playful smile. "But I just think you should wear something a touch more put together."

By now, all of the models have left the room, and Namjoon closes the door. 

"Why?" Hoseok asks conspiratorially. "Is he taking me somewhere nice? Gonna butter me up? Or finally apologize? Maybe try to corner me for another stupid fucking kiss?"

With a sigh, Namjoon turns to a rack of black and white clothing and begins to search until he pulls out a black blazer, black slacks, and a delicate off-white silk blouse. Hoseok rolls his eyes dramatically but cannot hold back a smile as he strips down and allows Namjoon to play dress up. 

The blouse has a deep v-neck that hangs gracefully down to the valley of his pecs, and he wears the fitted blazer fully open, with the blouse tucked into tight, fitted slacks that are accentuated nicely with a black leather belt. Namjoon dusts a thin black line around Hoseok's eyes and chooses a pair of chunky black loafers for him to wear. 

While Namjoon is digging through a chest for jewelry pieces, there are three soft knocks on the door, followed by it slowly opening and Yoongi sticking his head back into the room. Hoseok stares at his boss, watching as his eyes widen and then settle back to their cold natural state. 

"We're just about finished, boss," Namjoon says. 

Yoongi heavy-blinks and nods once, then says, "I'll be in the car."

Hoseok is no fool – he knows that behavior well. "He wants me so bad," he says, giggling to himself while cold metal is draped around his neck and fastened into place. 

Namjoon has chosen a stack of delicate gold chains that drape and cascade beautifully with the deep neck of the blouse. Hoseok dances his fingertips along one of the thickest chains and smiles into the mirror. 

"Joonie Baboonie, you have such an eye for style."

"Baboonie?" Namjoon asks with a chuckle as Hoseok spins on his toes and pats Namjoon on one of his big, strong biceps. 

"Yes, Baboonie! You got this primal ape thickness to you," he says, giving Namjoon's arm a squeeze. 

Namjoon gasps and yanks his arm away, pretending to be scandalized. "I don't even know what to think right now."

"Trust me, it's a compliment," Hoseok says as he turns toward the door, looking over his shoulder to add, "You're easily one of the hottest men on this peninsula."

The tips of Namjoon's ears turn a precious shade of red, and Hoseok grabs his phone, wallet, and keys from where they sit on the vanity counter and slide them into his borrowed pockets, giggling to himself over how fun it is to rile Namjoon up. 

He takes his time walking through the studio, to the large front doors ahead, listening to shutters snap closed while photographers and directors instruct and praise and ask more from their models. Despite feeling fed up with Yoongi's antics, he is proud to be part of this world, and he holds his head high as he pauses before the sliding glass doors and waits for them to open wide. 

It is early evening, still bright and warm outside. Hoseok spots the familiar sedan sitting curbside and is pleased to find only Yoongi waiting for him. He can play coy all he wants in the presence of others, but he is not so sure he can hold up the facade around Seokjin, and the man's absence is a relief. 

Yoongi wears a black mask over his nose and mouth, as well as black sunglasses, and when Hoseok opens the door and slides into the front seat, Yoongi points to the glove compartment and says, "Disguise, please."

Now that Hoseok is alone with Yoongi, he fully takes in his appearance. Between being photographed by him earlier in the day and now, he has changed from his typical flowing black rags into a white button-up top with long, sharp lapels, and charcoal grey slacks that strain against his thighs. His hair has so much volume that the tips fan out in pretty waves, and Hoseok openly stares, feeling his feigned impassiveness crash down around him. 

There is no way he is going to be able to have the upper hand if Yoongi is this fucking pretty. 

"Hoseok," Yoongi says, "we don't have all day."

Hoseok clears his throat, blinks Yoongi from view, and leans to open the glove compartment. Inside is a pair of black sunglasses and an unused black mask, and he reaches for each item to put on.

"Why the disguises?" he asks. 

"I don't like my identity being widely spread, and there always seems to be someone in the high-end districts waiting for me to waltz into a shop or restaurant. Better safe than sorry."

"Why is that?" Hoseok asks, adjusting the mask to fit comfortably over his nose.

Yoongi sighs. "The last thing I need is for the press to see me taking my models out to eat and spread the word that I'm fucking them."

"Because you are," Hoseok mutters. 

"Flirting is not the same as fucking."

Hoseok rolls his eyes and tips his head in Yoongi's direction. His voice is low but challenging as he asks, "How many of them do you fuck, boss?"

It is a shame Yoongi's face is covered; Hoseok would love to see his expression as he says, "Currently, none."

With a hum, Hoseok turns to reach for his seatbelt. He does not believe Yoongi for a second, but he is still happy with the claim. 

"Where are we off to?" Hoseok asks in a far more chipper voice.

Yoongi sighs, turning Hoseok's attention back to him. He has his sunglasses pulled down to the bridge of his nose, and his eyes appear somewhat sad. 

"Look, I'm sorry for kissing you. I should have asked…or…I don't know…refrained."

"Yup," Hoseok responds snarkily.

"But we need to at least pretend things are normal, for the sake of professionality. Otherwise I will not be able to continue having you at M Magazine. I really don't want to let you go, Hoseok."

"Because I'm a good investment. I know."

Another sigh. "Is that really how you feel?"

Hoseok rolls his eyes again, thankful that his expression is hidden, because he suddenly feels dangerously close to crying. He takes his time to think about his response, and then he shrugs. Yoongi is fucking insane if he thinks Hoseok is going to give him an ounce of his dignity.

"I thought we didn't have all day?" he asks, instead.

Yoongi slowly blinks, then says, "We have time for this. If there's something we need to discuss, I can always make time for it."

"Wow, so caring," Hoseok drawls sarcastically. "You're really good at putting on the good boy act when it's just the two of us. How many other models do you do this for?"

Yoongi squints, pushes his sunglasses back into place, and presses the ignition start button. Then he simply asks, "Sushi?"

"Sushi sounds great," Hoseok responds genuinely as he sits back and looks out the windshield, eyes trailing over details he barely registers of vehicles and trees. 

Off they drive. Hoseok spaces out entirely, blocking out everything ahead. Instead, he fights with his own emotions, unsure how he would like to proceed. 

He wants to tease Yoongi, and ultimately break him down. And in order to do so, he knows he needs to drop the snark. But Yoongi has genuinely pissed him off, and it is difficult not to bring it up. 

When the racing thoughts get to be too overwhelming, Hoseok reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone. He has Namjoon's number saved from their spa day, and he pulls up his contact.

Hoseok Joon Baboon, this man is driving me insane. Please snitch on your bestie and tell me what he said about The Kiss™. I feel claustrophobic in this car because I don't know what the fuck this man is thinking.

Hoseok assumes Namjoon is still at work, but there is a chance he is between models, or packing up for the day. It is rare for anyone to stay past five, and it is a quarter to five now. 

For good measure, he also sends a text to Jeongguk. He is eager to pick his friend's brain if Jeongguk is willing to talk about his experience with Yoongi. 

Hoseok Ggukieee!!! Drinks later? On me? I'm having a crisis that only you could understand.

He places his phone face down on his leg and patiently waits, staring out the side window at all the tall glass and concrete buildings. This side of the city is where all the money is. Designer shops, high-end restaurants, five-star hotels. 

Yoongi pulls up to a valet stand, takes a deep, slow breath, and shuts the ignition off. Hoseok swallows thickly, wondering if there really might be members of the press lingering around, waiting to photograph his boss – and, by extension, him. 

As soon as Yoongi is out of the car, Hoseok follows suit, unbuckling and slowly opening his door. He has no idea why his heart pounds, and he glances around at his surroundings, noticing the way people stop and take in his appearance. 

"For Min," Yoongi says as he hands the valet attendant his key. 

The attendant bows and Yoongi turns to Hoseok, nods his chin, and walks toward a large glass door. 

Hoseok follows close behind, trying to elongate his steps to accentuate the beautiful garments he wears rather than prance ahead quickly. He feels like royalty in the outfit Namjoon has dressed him in, and he intends to savor each second he spends in it.

Yoongi holds the door open, and Hoseok steps inside. Immediately, he is hit with rich umami and spicy scents, and he stops and waits for Yoongi to step ahead and say, "Two for Min," to the hostess.

"Right this way," she says, leading the two of them through a lavish restaurant furnished in gold, crystal, and jade, with copious amounts of natural lighting. 

She leads them to a section of private booths with tall wooden walls – an area that is much more dim and intimate than the main dining hall – and she points to a booth all the way at the end. There are no other patrons in this area of the restaurant, yet Yoongi only removes his sunglasses once they are seated. 

"The usual?" she asks, and Yoongi turns his attention to Hoseok. 

"I usually get an assortment of sashimi, as well as inari, miso soup, and sake."

"That sounds good," Hoseok mutters, feeling inexplicably shy as he removes his sunglasses and scoots to the center of the booth. 

"The usual, for two," Yoongi nods to the hostess, who bows and walks away. He busies himself with unfolding his napkin and placing it over his lap, and then pulls out his cell phone. 

Hoseok pulls his phone out, as well. And in that moment, it vibrates.

Joon Baboon All he said was that he made a mistake. He feels like he broke your trust and pissed you off, and for that, he feels guilty. 

Hoseok rolls his eyes and bites his lip to prevent from smiling. 

Hoseok Is that what this fancy as fuck sushi dinner is about?

Joon Baboon You didn't hear it from me…

Hoseok  The magic words!!! 

Joon Baboon But, yes. 

"About Dior," Yoongi says, causing Hoseok to set his phone down on the booth beside his leg and lift his attention to his boss. "Technically, the contract is over if you are pleased with all we have done. But they have reached out to express interest in having you model the upcoming winter line."

"Oh?" Hoseok perks up and folds his hands over his lap, watching as Yoongi pulls the mask from his mouth and neatly sets it aside. 

Yoongi is devastatingly pretty with his hair wild and curly. Especially with the crisp white shirt, his skin looks petal soft, and his lips have a slight gloss – kissable and sweet. Hoseok hates how quickly one look can make every wall he attempts to build around his heart buckle and crumble to his feet. 

"Cardigans, hoodies, handbags," Yoongi continues, "possibly sneakers. Oh, and they have a grey wide-legged wool pant that I believe you would be particularly stunning in, if that interests you."

Hoseok licks his lips and nods. For once, he has nothing snarky to say, and instead, he sits back and takes a deep breath. More Dior means more time spent with Yoongi acting as his agent. He feels conflicted. 

"Would this be something we begin soon?" Hoseok asks, suddenly feeling antsy and shifting in his seat. "Or would we draw up a new contract?"

Yoongi studies his face, then leans forward with his elbows on the table. "What would you like to do? Continue the current contract and get all of that out of the way, or pause with Dior in order to find representation with a more permanent agent?"

Hoseok gently nibbles on the inside of his lip. He figures he may as well be honest with Yoongi, despite how much he loathes putting his feelings on display.

Luckily for him, a server approaches with a tray of water and sake. Hoseok busies himself with pouring small glasses of sake while the server excuses themself. He can feel Yoongi watching him, and he swallows back his anxiety as best as he can.

"In the event that Dior keeps thirsting for my good looks, I think I would like to find a more permanent agent."

He glances up and sees Yoongi watching him, chin resting against his folded hands.

"S-so, if you wouldn't mind putting me in touch with some," Hoseok continues, pulse quickening the longer Yoongi stares, "I would appreciate it."

"Alright," Yoongi says. "I can set up some interviews for this week."

"Thanks, boss," Hoseok mutters as he slides a soju glass forward.

"Any particular reason you are eager to pay money for representation?" Yoongi asks in a teasing voice as he reaches for his glass before Hoseok has a chance to let it go.

The warm graze of Yoongi's fingers makes Hoseok swallow thickly and pull his hand away. Yoongi's signature smirk is back, and it fills his tummies with butterflies and regret.

"Maybe," is all Hoseok is willing to say. 

 Yoongi hums, then lifts his glass, waiting for Hoseok to lift his, as well. 

"How much sake will it take until you comfortably tell me what's on your mind?" he asks.

Hoseok scoffs, referring to the other night as he says, "At least three bottles."

Yoongi lifts an eyebrow and softly chuckles. They tap their glasses together, and Hoseok shoots the liquid back, savoring the almost buttery quality that shines through the semi-sweet flavor.

"How much will it take for you to be honest about your intentions with me?" Hoseok tries. 

Yoongi lets out a slow exhale. "My intentions are to assist you with finding an agent to represent you for the rest of your brand contracts, and to continue assisting you with putting your best face forward in the hottest magazine in South Korea."

Hoseok hums and licks his lips. He wants to challenge Yoongi further, but he worries that this is not the place for that.

The booth rattles with an incoming text message, and Yoongi's eyes follow the sound, then lift to Hoseok, asking, "You gonna check that?"

Hoseok rolls his eyes and laughs humorlessly to himself, reaching for his phone. "You're insufferable," he mutters under his breath. 

"Well, you aren't willing to speak openly with me," Yoongi quips, "so you may as well entertain yourself somehow."

Hoseok tongues the inside of his cheek as he lifts his phone, sees that it is a message from Jeongguk, and unlocks his screen to read it.

"Do you like wasabi in your soy sauce?" Yoongi asks, and Hoseok flicks his gaze up briefly, annoyed with his sudden change in topic. 

"Sure," he says, dropping his gaze down to his phone. 

Ggukie Bun Drinks sound fun, but idk how much I wanna talk about that man…you'll have to loosen me up quite a bit to get me to spill, hyungie.

He sends a quick response—

Hoseok You got yourself a deal, bunny. I'll hit you up when I'm finished with dinner.

—and slides his phone into his pants pocket before leaning forward with his elbows against the table.

"You want me to talk?" Hoseok challenges, keeping his voice low in case there are people sitting in nearby booths. "Alright, boss, I'll talk about anything you want. Pick my brain, since you're so eager."

Yoongi smirks and the sight alone has Hoseok's frustration reaching an all new high. The audacity of this man to push his buttons so much; he is going to lose his fucking mind. 

Hoseok watches as Yoongi uses his chopsticks to mix a dollop of wasabi into a small square dish that he has poured soy sauce into, eyes glued to his long fingers cradling the black lacquered utensils.

"So, you're saying I don't have to spend eight hundred thousand won on booze to get you to open up?" Yoongi teases as he lays his chopsticks down across an empty dish. 

"Eight hundred—" Hoseok gasps, then looks at the ceramic carafe in the center of the table. "What?"

"I know, one hundred and thirty thousand won is a lot for just one bottle, but I rather like how smooth this one is."

Hoseok chuckles and shakes his head. "You cannot be serious."

Yoongi's voice drops an octave as he leans forward and says, "Don't think I wouldn't spend that kind of money on you, Hoseok. Especially if it gets those pretty lips talking."

All the little hairs on Hoseok's body stand at full attention. He has half a mind to excuse himself to run outside for some fresh air. 

"Pretty lips?" Hoseok asks, instead, unable to hide the tremble in his voice. 

Yoongi's smirk becomes a grin, and there is a devious glimmer in his eyes as he says, "I quite liked the taste of soju on your tongue, but I bet this sake would be even better."

Nervous laughter rocks through Hoseok's chest, and he holds his left hand up and shakes his head, muttering, "Okay, you need to stop."

"Awe, what's the matter, Hoseok?" Yoongi teases.

"I am so fucking serious."

Yoongi sits back, resting his hands on the top of the dark wooden table, and Hoseok allows himself to stare at his short, tidy nails and knobby knuckles. 

"Is that why you no longer want me to be your agent?" Yoongi asks. "Eager for another kiss?"

"Fuck it," Hoseok grumbles to himself as he sits tall, looks Yoongi in the eye, and says, "Yeah. That is why."

Yoongi watches Hoseok, eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips and back up. He appears to have something to say, but for once, is holding back. 

Servers approach with trays of food, starting with the miso soup and inari, then the sashimi. Hoseok thanks the servers, smiles impatiently at Yoongi, and then waits for him to start eating. 

But Yoongi keeps his eyes on Hoseok. He slowly blinks, saying nothing, and Hoseok takes a deep, fortifying breath and says, "Yoongi-ssi, I would like to eat. Please start."

"Sorry," Yoongi utters softly, lifting his burgundy napkin and tucking one corner delicately into the neck of his shirt. 

Hoseok rolls his eyes and sits back with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. Whatever game Yoongi is playing at, it is wearing him out. 

"I was just thinking," Yoongi says as he reaches for his small bowl of soup and lifts it to his lips. He blows delicately at the broth and says, "Seokjin may have room to represent you."

Hoseok sits forward and reaches for his own small black plastic bowl with red along the rim, and he lifts it to his lips. "Seokjin works as an agent?"

Yoongi sips at his soup and closes his eyes. A smile graces his lips, and Hoseok forgets for a moment how hungry he is – all he can do is stare.

"Seokjin started out as my in-house agent," Yoongi says as his eyelids flutter open. "But then he got bored of dealing with fussy models and slowly transitioned to becoming my assistant. Sorry, my goon."

A hint of a smile tugs at Hoseok's lips before he can stop himself. He has a sip of the miso soup, and the rich, savory broth instantly warms him, sending a chill along his spine as he adjusts to the sudden change in temperature. 

With another salty sip, a small square of tofu glides between his lips and practically melts on his tongue, and Hoseok understands why Yoongi reacts the way he does to savoring this soup. It really is delicious, and the perfect starter to the meal. 

"I'm not sure he would enjoy me, then," Hoseok jokes, holding the bowl close to his lips. Steam rises from the broth, and he enjoys the way it dances over his skin. "I'm pretty fussy."

Yoongi chuckles, shakes his head, and mutters, "You're not that bad," before having another sip. 

Hoseok sets his half-finished soup aside and reaches for his chopsticks. The inari is calling his name, and he reaches for a piece while Yoongi sets his empty soup bowl down, and he dips it rice-side-down into the soy sauce and wasabi.

Although inari is a simple dish of sticky rice tucked inside a soft, fried pocket of bean curd, there is a semi-sweetness to it that, paired with soy and wasabi, is quite delicious. He does his best to only bite the edge of it, leaning over his bowl to catch stray grains of rice that fall. 

He alternates between nibbles of the inari and slices of sashimi, hardly taking his eyes off the table until the meal is nearly finished. Yoongi fills the glasses of sake, and he stands slightly to reach across the table and set Hoseok's close to him. 

With Yoongi hovering over the table, looming over Hoseok, the breath catches in Hoseok's throat. He watches as Yoongi smiles slightly and licks his lips, then settles back in his seat.

"How many models are you regularly kissing and flirting with?" Hoseok asks, reaching for his sake.

Yoongi shakes his head, and mutters, "Hoseok—"

"I'm serious," Hoseok interrupts, sitting tall in his seat. "Whatever it is you're doing with me, I don't want it if this is something you're doing with someone else, too. The rides home and gentle knee touches…all of it. I'm serious."

"I'm not taking anyone else on dinner dates or squeezing anyone else's knee," Yoongi insists. "The only other model I am spending time with is Sunmi, but I am not eager to piss off her partner."

"But if she were single—" Hoseok attempts. 

Yoongi shuts him down, "No, Hoseok." He snickers and reaches for his cup of sake. "Not even if she were single."

Hoseok raises his eyebrow. "You aren't fucking Seori?"

At this, Yoongi chuckles. "Did Namjoon tell on me?" When Hoseok says nothing, he continues, "Seori and I had a fling once."

"When?"

"Months ago."

Hoseok tongues the inside of his mouth. "How many months ago?"

Yoongi lifts his sake and shoots it back, then reaches for the carafe to give himself a refill. "Hoseok, you and I shared one kiss. That hardly gives you grounds to interrogate me."

With a heavy sigh, Hoseok extends his right foot, reaching until he feels the toe of his loafer make gentle contact with the side of Yoongi's leg. Yoongi looks down, then up, and raises an eyebrow.

"You intend to share more than just one kiss with me," Hoseok challenges, scooting forward and rubbing his toe higher. "Don't you?"

Yoongi swallows visibly. "This is hardly appropriate behavior to conduct with your boss, Hoseok."

"You started it," Hoseok says plainly, dancing the edge of his shoe against Yoongi's knee. "Call Seokjin. Ask him to represent me."

Yoongi dances his tongue between his teeth as he watches Hoseok. Then he rolls his eyes, reaches one hand below the table, and grazes his fingertips over the joint of Hoseok's ankle. Despite it being a light, innocuous touch, Hoseok's exhale comes out a bit shaky, and he sets down his neglected cup of sake. 

"What is it that you want, exactly?" Yoongi asks. 

He scoots forward, causing Hoseok's shoe to graze his inner thigh. And despite how unaffected Yoongi seems by the movement, Hoseok's heart pounds at the thought. 

"I don't know," Hoseok lies, taking a deep breath and stretching his leg forward. 

Hoseok can feel the moment the toe of his shoe very lightly grazes Yoongi's crotch. Yoongi's lips gently part, and Hoseok knows he must look ridiculous with his mouth hanging halfway open, but it is the only way he can hope to breathe; the air feels far thicker than it had moments ago. 

"You don't know?" Yoongi challenges, scooting forward again. 

The bottom of Hoseok's loafer presses firmly against Yoongi's crotch, and at the same time, both men gasp. Yoongi's eyelids flutter ever so slightly while Hoseok's mouth and eyes widen. 

Yoongi tips his head to the side and asks, "Then what are you doing?"

"Fucking with you," Hoseok mutters before he can stop himself. "Wanted to see how far I could push you."

"Ah," Yoongi responds, resting a hand against Hoseok's shoe while the other pushes the hem of his pants upward to gently grab his ankle, skin against skin. "Well, you have yet to reach your limit."

A server approaches, and Hoseok instinctively attempts to yank his leg away, but Yoongi holds his foot in place with one hand while tugging the napkin from where it is tucked into his shirt and draping it over Hoseok's shoe. 

"Is there anything more I can bring you tonight?" the server asks, glancing between Yoongi, Hoseok, and what is left of their meal. 

"One more bottle should be good," Yoongi says, leaning forward and pressing himself against the sole of Hoseok's shoe while grabbing the sake carafe to give it a shake. 

There seems to be liquid inside, and Yoongi reaches with his other hand, silently asking Hoseok for his cup. 

"One more bottle coming right up," the server says as they turn to walk away. 

Hoseok watches Yoongi, feeling trapped in place and dumbfounded, foot lodged between Yoongi's thighs. 

"Cup?" Yoongi asks, making Hoseok heavy-blink and reach for his sake.

Hoseok slams back the drink, sighing through the sudden onslaught of very tasty liquid. He holds his cup out toward Yoongi, cradling it delicately in the fingers of both hands while Yoongi fills it with more clear sake.

He fills his own cup next, sets down the carafe, and lifts the cup. "To finding you an agent," he says with a grin.

Hoseok lifts his cup and nods, then shoots the liquid back. He reaches for the carafe, but Yoongi tuts his tongue against the roof of his mouth, insisting on being the one to handle it. 

By the time the server returns, the sake is gone, and a new carafe is set between them. Yoongi does not seem to notice the fact that Hoseok's shoe is still in place between his legs, and Hoseok makes no move to drop it. 

"Ah, right," Yoongi says after pouring them another glass. "I forgot that I have business to attend to."

Hoseok watches as Yoongi pulls out his phone, tipping his head to the side curiously. 

Yoongi thumbs around, then holds the phone to his ear, eyes on Hoseok as he smiles and says, "Seokjin…might I ask you for a favor?"

* * *

The second round of sake renders the two of them unable to swing by Dior and peruse their winter line. Or, perhaps the game of footsie distracted them from their goal. Likely, it is a combination of both. 

Hoseok opts not to get dropped off at home first, which is a mistake. Jeongguk is already at their favorite dive bar, and he watches as Hoseok gets out of Yoongi's vehicle, undoubtedly clocking the way he stumbles as his legs remember how to walk. 

To make matters worse, Yoongi must notice Hoseok wave to Jeongguk, who sits directly behind where Hoseok stands, on a rickety metal chair on the bar patio, smoking a cigarette while wearing a skin-tight black shirt tucked into baggy black pants. 

"You know him?" Yoongi asks, turning back to Hoseok, who pats his pockets down to make sure he has everything, standing beside the open passenger door. Yoongi wears the mask over his mouth, but his eyes are visible.

"I do," Hoseok says. "Why? Do you?"

Yoongi studies Hoseok briefly, then says, "He looks like someone I've photographed before."

"Interesting!" Hoseok chirps, drawing out the syllables.

"Something tells me you already know about this," Yoongi grumbles somewhat defensively. 

Hoseok grins, sarcastically asking, "No…why would you think that?"

"Drink water," Yoongi says with a hint of concern that breaks through the annoyance in his eyes, clearly eager to change the topic and leave. "And text me if you need a ride home."

Hoseok sighs and waves Yoongi off, muttering, "I can take care of myself," then he closes the door and stumbles onto the sidewalk, giggling as he nearly trips over his own feet. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jeongguk grumbles as Hoseok approaches.

Hoseok is definitely more than tipsy, but he blames his giddiness for his inability to function properly. Seokjin had agreed over the phone to represent Hoseok, meaning once they sign a new contract, Hoseok will feel more confident to pursue his pretty boss. 

He also felt Yoongi become rock-hard under his shoe, but that is a detail he does his best to block out for the time being. That one he will unpack later, once he is home alone. 

"Business dinner," Hoseok responds, doing his best to act sober. He plops himself down in a chair across from Jeongguk and sighs dramatically, wishing he had a glass of water.

"Business dinner?" Jeongguk parrots incredulously. "Dressed like that? Stumbling around drunk? Be serious. I thought you were in crisis mode?"

"I am in peak crisis mode," Hoseok insists. "And anyway, Namjoon dressed me like this. Doesn't he have good taste."

"Namjoon," Jeongguk says in a dreamy tone, lips tugging into a smile. "Should have let him rail me, instead. He was way nicer."

"I bet you still could," Hoseok mutters, fighting the urge to take out his phone and text Namjoon to ask if he would be interested.

Jeongguk looks out into the distance, doe eyes bright and shining. Then he shrugs, and says, "Maybe some other time," and sits back, taking a drag of his diminishing cigarette. "So, what did you want to discuss?"

"Well, Ggukie, I was wondering if you would be open to telling me about what happened between you and my boss."

Jeongguk takes a sharp inhale of nicotine and holds it in. Then he shakes his head and blows a plume of smoke out toward the street. "Nah. Too sober."

Hoseok rolls his eyes and stands up quickly, holding his hand out to Jeongguk while saying, "Let's fix that."

* * *

Two bars and several rounds of shots later, Jeongguk and Hoseok are sitting on the couch in the back of some dingy neighborhood haunt that only people in their mid-twenties seem to patronize. Hoseok has his legs up on a low, wooden table on which neglected pint glasses of water sit creating rings of condensation around their bases, and Jeongguk has his legs draped over Hoseok's lap.

"It was just little shit at first, you know?" Jeongguk mutters, eyes half-squinted in part because there are several bright neon beer signs just to the right of Hoseok's head giving off a greenish-blueish glow. 

Hoseok nods.

"Little touches here and there, using pet names and favoritism, asking me to come to his office, inviting me to his studio. He took it slow at first, as if to suss out whether I was interested. But of course I was interested. I mean, you've fucking seen him."

Hoseok nods a little more emphatically; he absolutely has seen him.

"But then he got really assertive, pressing against me in his office, muttering shit like," Jeongguk's voice drops to a low, mocking octave, "we shouldn't be doing this, and, you drive me crazy, and, I can't keep my hands off you."

Hoseok remembers Yoongi cornering him in the makeup room. But you understand why we can’t do that, yes?

"Then one thing led to another, and he had me draped over the couch of his studio with his tongue in my ass."

"Oh my god," Hoseok mutters, in part because he was not expecting this conversation to veer into this territory so abruptly and in part because he has sat on that couch several times!

Jeongguk says nothing more, only stares ahead as if whatever he is searching for is lightyears away. 

"So…" Hoseok attempts, "then what?"

With a loud sigh, Jeongguk says, "Then we started fucking. Often. At his place, in his office, in the restroom at a fancy sushi spot."

"Oh my god," Hoseok mutters once more, eyes widening while staring out at the busy bar but not looking at anything in particular. "He took me to a fancy sushi spot."

"I've never had someone so eager to make me cum, like…god, the shit that man does. I pretty much stayed prepped and ready to bottom at all times."

"He was always in control?" Hoseok asks.

"Always. And it was amazing until it wasn't. Some girl named Seori was hired and he dropped me like a sweet potato."

Hoseok frowns, turning his gaze to Jeongguk. "Awe, Ggukie. Not a sweet potato."

Jeongguk nods slowly, nibbling on the inside of his mouth. "I know I shouldn't have taken it personally, but it was…it was a lot. He always said he wasn't into relationships but it was hard not wanting more from someone who made me feel so good."

Hoseok heavy-blinks, gazing around the bar, at people standing and sitting, talking and shouting about this or that. He idly traces his fingertips over the hems of Jeongguk's baggy jeans, trying to sort out what he should do. 

On the one hand, he really wants to try to make Yoongi hand over control and grovel for him. But he also feels sad for his friend.

Jeongguk seems to have gotten lost in his mind again, and Hoseok is no better. He still has so many questions, but it is hard to pull any one of them coherently to the surface. 

Finally, Jeongguk sits up straight, removing his legs from Hoseok's lap while muttering, "I think I'm going to venture out and find a sweet potato vendor."

"Okay," Hoseok says, mind still swirling with all the new information. He is definitely drunk enough to call it a night, but he also considers joining Jeongguk on his quest. "Yeah, okay, I think I would also like a sweet potato."

As Hoseok and Jeongguk venture out into the night, the details of events become foggy. He stumbles down the sidewalk for an indeterminate amount of time, and suddenly he is at a food cart, pulling notes from his wallet in exchange for a piping hot, foil-wrapped sweet potato. 

Next, he is at a small metal table sitting next to Jeongguk, typing a haphazard text message to Namjoon that reads, Eating a sweet potato and thinking of you. Because you are semi-sweet and also thicc. You and Jeongguk would make a cute couple btw!

Then he is shivering, still at the same small table, answering a phone call from Yoongi. He hugs his arms around himself tight while Jeongguk stumbles off into the night, toward his apartment two blocks away – also in the direction Hoseok lives. 

"You sure you don't need a ride?" Yoongi asks, voice deep and caring. 

"I'm like three blocks away," Hoseok insists, getting up to stumble in the direction of his drunk friend. "It would take you longer to come to me than it would take me to walk there."

Yoongi hums. “At least stay on the phone with me while you walk?”

Hoseok grins, ignoring the fluttering of his heart as he mutters, “Geez, obsessed with me, much?”

"Excuse me for caring," Yoongi responds, sounding somewhat affronted.

Hoseok chuckles and walks slowly, watching his feet meet brick, attempting but failing to step on as few cracks as possible. He smiles and says, "I don't know, I'm drunk enough that I might start saying regrettable things."

There is a pause, followed by, "Such as…?"

"Such as that I know you used to fuck my friend," Hoseok giggles, squeezing his eyes closed for a second because he knows he must have pushed Yoongi's buttons. "He told me all about your moves, Yoongi, and how you pretty much used the same formula that you're using with me. Which begs the question…which cute newcomer will take my spot, and how long do I have before I'm dropped like a hot little sweet potato?"

The sigh on the other end of the line is so audible, Hoseok can picture the downturn in Yoongi's eyes and the way his lips slightly frown while he is thinking. 

When he says nothing, Hoseok continues, "See, I warned you," dragging each vowel out dramatically.

"And what would you like me to say, Hoseok? Shall I call Jeongguk and apologize to him?"

"Nah," Hoseok responds, glancing up at brick buildings, pleased that he is still stumbling the correct way. "That would just piss him off."

Ahead, Jeongguk has stopped to lean against a tree and light a cigarette, and Hoseok makes note of the way his flat tummy curves from the way he stands slightly hunched over before his hips are swallowed whole by baggy jeans. He pictures Yoongi's large hands pressing on those hips, and the way Jeongguk must have gasped so sweetly. 

Then, Hoseok shakes his head, attempting to dispel the thought; he needs to get laid.

"But you have some reason for bringing this up?" Yoongi asks. 

With a sigh, Hoseok says, "I just hate to think my days are numbered. It's exciting to have caught your attention, but it seems," he drags the word out playfully, "that your attention is fleeting."

"We can talk about this when we're both sober," Yoongi mutters lowly.

Not wanting Jeongguk to overhear Hoseok talking to Yoongi, he stops in his tracks. Sadness sweeps over him, and his body undulates like overcooked pasta ever so slightly in place. Although the sweet potato has bought him a little time before blacking out, he is still quite drunk.

"Are we doing anything productive tomorrow?" Hoseok whines. "These last few days of random shoots have felt pointless, and…I might throw up."

"You might throw up tonight from being drunk, or tomorrow from being bored?" Yoongi clarifies. 

"Honestly…" Hoseok screws up his face, thinking it over. "Both."

Yoongi chuckles. "I can't believe my top model is calling in sick because he was out drinking all night."

Hoseok is quick to push the blame. "You got me drunk first!"

Yoongi laughs, and it is a pretty, rich deep melody that causes Hoseok to sway. Then he says, "Seok…you know tomorrow is Saturday, right?"

Relief washes over Hoseok, and he nearly stumbles to his knees. "Oh, thank god."

"I would like to see you briefly, tomorrow, though," Yoongi adds. "If you are available. Seokjin would like to iron out a contract and have everything set in stone as quickly as possible so that he can move forward with your next round of Dior shoots. We can meet up in the evening, if you prefer?"

Ahead, Jeongguk has continued to walk home, so Hoseok continues, as well. 

"Were these random ass shoots just your excuse to keep seeing me?" Hoseok asks coyly. 

"Hoseok," Yoongi drawls, making Hoseok inhale deeply as a tingle works over his body from the sound. He hums in response, and Yoongi continues, "Please stay on topic. Will you be available to sign the contract tomorrow?"

Hoseok grins. "Only if you can admit that you kept me around this week just to see me."

"I would rather talk about my feelings for you once we are sober and you have that contract with Seokjin signed."

"Your feelings for me," Hoseok mutters, mostly to himself. 

There is a pause, followed by Yoongi asking, "Are you home yet?"

Hoseok stares at the silhouettes of trees and square buildings ahead, the darkness broken by glowing street lamps. "One more block,"

"I could have picked you up by now."

Hoseok sighs. "You totally could not have. And anyway, I wanted to walk."

"Were you dishonest about how far the walk is? Or are you having a more leisurely stroll than usual?"

"Jeongguk stopped ahead and I didn't want to catch up to him while on the phone with you."

Yoongi sighs. "How long have you known that Jeongguk and I have a past?"

In far too chipper of a tone, Hoseok says, "Since the day I was hired."

Yoongi says nothing, and Hoseok wishes he could see his expression. At this point, he is too intoxicated to care whether he could be pushing Yoongi away. He still believes that no matter what, he will have a shot at fucking him at least once. 

It is not as if Hoseok has any interest in pursuing anything more with him. 

"Almost there," Hoseok chirps. He has a pep in his step now that his building is in view. It feels like ages since he has taken a nice hot shower, and he desperately wants to wash his face. "Oh, Hey, boss?"

Yoongi hums.

"Do you need this outfit back? Can you, like…deduct it from my paycheck, or something? Namjoon really put his babussy into this fit, and I might want to wear it again."

With a sigh, Yoongi mutters, "It's yours. Keep it."

"Thanks, boss. But how much do you think—"

"I'm not charging you for it, Hoseok. You're correct that it suits you well. Keep it."

Hoseok's cheeks warm, and he grins, raising his shoulders to his ears with glee and dropping them down. He makes his voice as soft as possible as he says, "Thanks, boss. You're too sweet."

Yoongi grunts, making Hoseok quietly laugh to himself. Either he has struck a nerve with Yoongi, the man is very tired, or both. 

"Alright, I'm walking up to the front door of my building. I'm home safe. You don't need to stay on the line any longer."

"Hoseok," Yoongi says, making him stop with his hand lifted to the knob, key dangling between his fingers. "Tomorrow, will you come discuss a new contract with Seokjin and I?"

"Oh," he mutters, sliding his key into the knob and twisting it open. "Yeah. Tomorrow evening is fine."

"Wonderful. I'll bring a lawyer along so that we can get everything finalized quickly."

Hoseok makes his way to the stairwell, slowly taking each step. "And then we'll celebrate?"

A pause, then, "How would you like to celebrate, Hoseok?"

Hoseok hums, making a show of the fact that he is giving this matter very serious thought, despite only one thing running through his head. 

"A kiss," he finally says, biting his lip as he shuffles down the hallway to his door. The closer he gets to his apartment, the heavier his limbs feel. 

"Alright," Yoongi grumbles, making Hoseok grin. "I will kiss you to celebrate."

Hoseok punches his code into the keypad beside his door, and when it clicks open, he lets out a long, happy sigh. Home at last.

"I'm in my apartment now. Gonna strip out of these clothes and take a nice, hot shower."

Yoongi makes no sound, so Hoseok continues. 

"Maybe while I'm in there, I'll think about earlier, at the restaurant, with my foot pressed between your legs."

Yoongi sighs, and Hoseok steps from his shoes, feeling victorious. 

"I felt how hard you got under my toes. You liked it, boss."

"I did," Yoongi admits, voice low. 

"I liked it, too."

"Yeah?" 

Hoseok shrugs out of the blazer and delicately drapes it over the back of his couch, then he balances the phone between his ear and shoulder as he begins to unbuckle his belt. 

"Yeah. The way your lips parted and eyes widened, so faint and so eager to hold your pleasure in. Beautiful."

"I could say the same for you," Yoongi responds, voice breathy. Hoseok wonders if he is touching himself. "I saw how affected you became."

"I want to see you like that when you're not having to hold back," Hoseok practically moans. "I want to make you unravel."

Yoongi hums and Hoseok holds his breath, waiting for whatever delicious thing he may have to offer. 

But then he says, "We should talk about this when we're sober."

With a sigh, Hoseok's body feels worn and heavy; his spirits feel dashed. 

"You're right," he mutters. "Good night, boss."

"See you tomorrow, Hoseok."

Hoseok lowers the phone from his ear, grumbling, "See ya," as he hangs up.

* * *

Despite the joyous occasion, Yoongi behaves rather coldly. 

At first, Hoseok chalks it up to the fact that Seokjin and a lawyer are present to draw a new contract for his modeling representation. The document is straightforward; Seokjin insists on taking almost no money from Hoseok for his services, citing that he makes more than enough being Yoongi's personal goon – a word he says playfully, with a wink. 

They discuss long-term plans that stretch further than Hoseok's employment with M Magazine, should he move on to other publications, and everything feels official and exciting in a way Hoseok hasn't experienced since he graduated from college as a fresh face getting scouted by seedy, desperate photographers and art directors. 

But even as they bow to the lawyer and bid him farewell, there is something sour looming over Yoongi, like a bitter little stormcloud threatening to burst at any moment and become everyone else's problem. Seokjin even nudges him, attempting to crack jokes, but he rarely smiles, and he hardly makes eye contact with Hoseok. 

It feels like whiplash after how playful he was last night, and Hoseok hovers around the sofa, not feeling welcome enough to sit, but not sure whether he should leave. Until finally, Yoongi stretches and yawns, and Hoseok sees that as an opening. 

"Well, you're tired," he says, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his pressed, black fitted slacks. "I'm tired, as well. So I think I'll head out."

"Yah, Hoseokah!" Seokjin barks. "We should celebrate!"

A yawn works its way from Hoseok's chest, and he lifts his hand to cover his mouth. Seokjin flinches away as if he is at risk of catching some kind of virus from a yawn and frowns.

"We could schedule something for next weekend," he suggests. "Or whenever all of us are free."

"All of us are free right now," Seokjin insists. "Yoongichi, you don't have any extravagant dates planned, do you?"

Yoongi shakes his head, but his eyes are glued to his phone. He seems stressed out, and frankly, it annoys Hoseok. It feels rude to build up his excitement to see him this evening, only for him to act completely indifferent to Hoseok's presence.

"Why don't we all go out to celebrate once Seokjin and I have our first round of Dior shoots under our belt?" Hoseok recommends. 

Yoongi nods, eyes never leaving his phone, and Seokjin sighs but agrees. 

"Alright, sounds like a plan."

"Cool," Hoseok says, nodding listlessly, "then I'm going to head out."

Finally, Yoongi lifts his head to look at Hoseok fully. And for a split, brief, teeny tiny moment, Hoseok thinks Yoongi might finally be direct with him. But then his eyes fall back to his phone as he grumbles, "I'm glad the three of us could sort this out."

"Need a ride?" Seokjin asks. 

Hoseok shrugs but happily says, "I would appreciate it."

Seokjin approaches Yoongi and mutters something lowly before giving him a slap on the shoulder, which Yoongi more or less seems to ignore. Then he makes his way to the door, where Hoseok trails along to slide into the pretty black loafers he wore just last night. 

Hoseok does not say goodbye to Yoongi, and when they step into the elevator, he lets out a sigh.

"I hate when he gets preoccupied," Seokjin complains. 

Hoseok chuckles. "It's honestly pretty rude."

Hoseok pulls out his phone and sends Yoongi a message—

Hoseok The way you hardly looked at me tonight is absolutely crazy. I no longer want that celebratory kiss.

—then tucks the device into his pocket. He does not expect a response to come any time soon.

"I love him, and he's a great businessman, but he is kind of an idiot," Seokjin says, making Hoseok laugh. "He has no fucking interpersonal communication skills."

It feels good to laugh, and Hoseok does not hold back. He bends in half, gripping his knees as the cords of his untied black, silk modern hanbok hang past his knees. He has to apologize to someone once the doors slide open and he steps forward, nearly barreling into them.

"Geez, it's not that funny," Seokjin complains despite still laughing.

"Oh, it definitely is," Hoseok insists as they make their way out into the evening. 

* * *

Hoseok does not hear from Yoongi for the rest of the night while he is out with his friends at the club, nor the entirety of Sunday while he is letting Jimin distract him with brunch and shopping. 

And by Monday morning, when there is still no word, Hoseok decides he no longer cares. He has a shoot later in the morning with Yoongi, and he begrudgingly gets out of bed and goes through his routine as if it were a standard early morning, with the plan of stopping by his favorite cafe for a sweet treat and a latte.

The weather is hot but not stifling, and Hoseok wears the same flowing black silk modern hanbok top he wore to Yoongi's place on Saturday, untied over a tight black tank top and mid-length, black wool shorts. And, of course, his favorite new chunky black leather loafers. He tucks his phone, keys, wallet, and lip balm into a small black handbag and sets out for the day with a forced smile. 

And truthfully, the cafe trip does wonders for the residual sour mood Yoongi had put Hoseok in, leaving him in a much more positive headspace. That is until he arrives at the studio. 

The familiar sights and sounds are like a weight on Hoseok's shoulders, but he holds his head high and makes a beeline through the expansive studio space to his sanctuary. The makeup room. 

Upon entering, Hoseok finds Seokjin and Namjoon standing by a metal rack of clothing, sifting through outfits. He sets his coffee down on the long vanity counter by the mirror wall and prances over to see what they have in store for him. 

"Yoongi wants us to start with this," Seokjin says as he pulls out a charcoal grey blazer and matching slacks.

Hoseok wonders if this is the grey wide-legged pant that Yoongi said he thinks Hoseok will look stunning in. He rolls his eyes at the memory, then smiles widely as he chirps, "Looks great, Jinnie-hyung!"

It takes no time at all for Namjoon to have Hoseok dressed in the grey suit with his hair slicked back and his face made up. By now, they have the process down to a science; Hoseok hardly has a chance to get comfortable in the makeup chair. 

They opt not to pair the outfit with jewelry, but Hoseok wears black and white sneakers that he is not a fan of for this type of outfit. This look is currently all the rage with these high-end brands, and does not understand why.

"I'll let Yoongichi know we're ready for him," Seokjin says as he leaves the room, and Hoseok gives a thumbs-up.

"Wow, so Seokjin-hyung is your agent?" Namjoon asks. 

Hoseok swivels around in his tall, black chair and smiles widely. "Yeah! I'm excited. He seems very knowledgeable and dedicated, and he doesn't want to take all my earnings."

"Of course, he doesn't," Namjoon chuckles. "The co-founder of M Magazine undoubtedly makes a pretty penny."

"Co-founder?" Hoseok asks, shocked. "Yoongi only mentioned he was previously an agent and then shifted gears to work as his assistant goon."

Namjoon shrugs. "Seokjin-hyung has always done a little of everything, with the exception of photography. He has an eye for beauty and design, but prefers the more tedious duties that come with being an assistant. I think he likes being useful. And he tends to feign modesty, which is why nobody refers to him as the co-founder."

That checks out, and Hoseok nods. "Well, I am glad I have a use for him. Gotta get to stardom somehow!"

"Trust me," Namjoon says, leaning close. "You will."

Hoseok visibly swoons, causing Namjoon to lean away with regret painted on his face. "You're the sweetest, Joon Baboon!"

A deep, impassive voice cuts through the joy, with one simple word.

"Ready?"

Hoseok turns to find Yoongi standing in the doorway dressed in a white blazer unbuttoned over a white dress shirt, with matching white shorts, tall black socks, and black loafers. His hair is slicked back, combed behind his ears, there is a pair of black glasses tucked into the neck of his shirt, and he wears a scowl on his pretty face. His trusty camera is in his hand, strap wrapped around his wrist, and his eyebrows are raised high with impatience. 

"Sure thing," Hoseok says flatly, mood instantly killed. 

He slides from his chair and follows Yoongi out, into the studio, to the corner where he prefers to shoot, near the bottom of the steps that lead up to his office.

There is nothing for Hoseok to pose on or near, so he just stands against the dark backdrop, angling his body and elongating his neck and limbs. Yoongi shoots quickly, stepping back and moving forward, eye glued to the viewfinder. 

When he finally does glance over the camera, it is to say, "Give me a little movement, like a twirl but with one foot kicking outward."

Hoseok does some twirls and kicks, accentuating the loose cut of the slacks and doing his best to embody fluidity. He feels as if these shots will be magnificent, and he waits for Yoongi to crack a smile and tell him he is doing well. 

But instead, Yoongi drops his hands to his sides and says, "That's good," then he lifts his camera high enough to begin sifting through the photos. 

On the breast of Yoongi's jacket is a pretty white flower that stands out in the bright glow of the box lights, and Hoseok curses himself for wanting to rub his palms across it, heavy-blinking to avert his eyes.

"New outfit?" Hoseok asks. 

Yoongi shrugs. "If you have time for more, sure."

"If I have time?" Hoseok bites back. "I've barely been here for an hour."

Yoongi continues to flip through photos, making Hoseok wonder if he heard him at all. Then he says, "Yeah, whatever your agent wants," and walks off. 

"What the fuck," Hoseok mutters under his breath as he turns and stomps back toward the makeup room. This behavior has him wishing he would have stepped on Yoongi's balls a little harder at the sushi restaurant. 

Seokjin already has outfits laid out when Hoseok returns, and he is changed into more casual wear, sporting an array of hoodies, cardigans, and handbags. Yoongi is just as standoffish, giving Hoseok almost nothing to work with, but he continues to change shirts and pose, doing his best. 

And then, suddenly, Yoongi's phone rings loud and shrill, making everyone but himself flinch. He sighs and stops what he is doing, muttering, "One moment, sorry."

Yoongi's phone is typically always on vibrate while at work, and he absolutely never drops everything to answer the call. How uncouth, Hoseok thinks, standing under the warm lights with his hands on his hips while Yoongi walks several paces away, talking lowly into his phone.

As soon as he returns, Yoongi mutters, "Something has come up, but it seems like we shot everything we need. Thanks for everything. Great job today." He only spares Hoseok a quick glance, and then he turns to walk up the stairs to his office. 

Hoseok sighs, nods to himself, and begins back toward the makeup room. From the corner of his eye, he watches as Seori rushes in through the front doors of the building, dressed in a light pink hoodie and sweatpants and looking frazzled. She makes a beeline for the steps and runs to the top, where she quickly knocks but does not bother to wait before walking into Yoongi's office and closing the door behind her. 

The feeling that swirls in Hoseok's tummy is envy mixed with something else – something even more bitter. Something numbing. He can't quite put his thumb on it, but he chooses not to dwell on it. 

Until he enters the makeup room with a heavy sigh, and – upon realizing only Namjoon is present – begins to crumble emotionally. Despite feeling the desire to cry, tears only prickle gently around the edges of his lids but never fully gather. More than anything, he just feels defeated.

"I didn't follow your advice, okay," he admits, taking Namjoon somewhat by surprise as he throws himself on the makeup chair. "I should go home. I need to clear my head. I feel so—"

"What happened?" Namjoon asks kindly, approaching with his arms loosely crossed over his chest. 

"You warned me about that man, and I listened! I really did! But my heart and my body did not, and now I feel like I am a marionette hanging from strings eager for a master. But rather than tug on my strings and make me dance, he just fucking leaves me hanging."

"That's…a beautifully pathetic analogy," Namjoon mutters, dimples on display. 

Hoseok attempts to swat at the handsome man, but Namjoon simply leans slightly back, avoiding his fingertips. 

"I don't even care about being in a relationship with him," Hoseok mutters somewhat under his breath. "Like, I'm foolish, but I'm not that stupid. I just…ugh! He…ugh!"

Namjoon chuckles and shakes his head. It is not the laugh of a man who wants Hoseok to feel foolish, but one of a man who has likely had this conversation this time and time again.

"He charms in his own way," Namjoon says. "And then he puts up a wall when he thinks he is getting close to someone. It's like he's terrified of just allowing himself to open up to people."

"Why?" Hoseok sighs.

Namjoon shrugs. "No idea. There's no shocking character reveal or tragic backstory, you know? Yeah, his parents are wealthy and they don't hover, but they are kind and supportive. His relationship with his brother is casual and positive. Aside from his playboy tendencies, he is a great person to work with, and a great person to work for. No gambling problems, no drinking problems, no sordid past. He just…doesn't like to commit to anyone."

Another sigh pours from Hoseok's mouth, this one drawn out with a groan. He drops his head back dramatically, feeling extra annoyed – exorbitantly annoyed. 

Hoseok finds nothing inherently wrong with having commitment issues or with preferring to sleep around without strings attached. He and his friend group have always been pretty loose with hooking up, and it has never caused drama because they all know where they stand with one another. 

But it is frustrating that the result is a lack of empathy and poor communication. Hoseok is fine with being someone's piece of ass on the down low, but he needs to know where he stands. And it annoys Hoseok that, rather than finding a reason to hate Yoongi and make the idea of backing away from him feel easier, he really sympathizes with the guy. 

Hoseok laughs to himself, despite feeling little joy. "If he wanted to just fuck around, I wouldn't even object. And I have been rather forward with suggesting I am open to it, but he just clams up and doesn't say anything."

"Mmhmm," Namjoon grumbles in a tone that suggests he knows this all too well.

"Whatever," Hoseok sighs. "We did well today, and although he was the opposite of helpful or encouraging, I feel good about the shoots. So I suppose I could call it a day."

Namjoon nods and seems to glance at the time on his phone. "Seokjin left during the last shoot – said he had some important business to deal with – but he asked me to tell you that you are amazing, and doing great, and that he looks forward to going over the photos with you and Yoongi. He also says to take some time off and he will contact you with a schedule some time this week."

This time, the sigh that Hoseok lets out is one of relief. Relief to have an agent who is receptive and feels positively about the work they are doing. Relief to have some time off to relax, pamper himself, and get some fucking space from Yoongi. 

He changes back into his black tank top, silk hanbok top, shorts, and loafers. With his arms hanging open, he convinces Namjoon to lean in for a semi-awkward hug, and thanks him for all his hard work. Then he opens that door with a fortifying breath and sets out toward the front doors, eager to get home and unwind. 

The studio is quiet, with only one photographer and model on set in the far left corner. Hoseok does not even look their way, eager to reach the sliding glass doors. And he almost does, before he hears a familiar voice call for him.

"Jung Hoseok-ssi."

Hoseok physically recoils from the sound, closing his eyes to take a deep, annoyed breath. He was so close to making it outside – just a couple more feet from freedom. 

With a plastered smile, Hoseok spins, asking, "Yes, boss?" as he searches for the source of the voice. 

Yoongi stands at the top of the stairs, arms straight down at his sides. He asks, "Do you have a moment?" 

Hoseok nods and makes his way through the large studio space, heart betraying him in a frantic dance the closer he gets. He wonders if there will be any visible trace of Seori on Yoongi's skin or any lingering scent of perfume. 

With each footfall up to Yoongi's office, Hoseok feels his body undergo more and more duress. His legs and hands tremble, his palms begin to prickle, his breathing feels labored. Yoongi turns and enters his office as Hoseok gets close, and once he reaches the top, he takes a fortifying inhale. 

"Yes?" Hoseok asks, attempting to come off as impassively as possible.

"Close the door, please," Yoongi says, making his way toward his desk.

Hoseok closes the door and gives himself a second to collect his composure before turning toward Yoongi and approaching. He expects to find Yoongi sitting at his chair, but instead, he is on the corner of his desk, half-sitting with one foot suspended somewhat, and his arms crossed over his chest.

"I owe you an apology," Yoongi says. His hair is all in place, and there is no sign on his clothing or skin that might suggest anything transpired with Seori. 

Still, Hoseok scoffs, nods, and says, "Yeah, you do." 

"I understand that sometimes my behavior can be a bit…" Yoongi takes a moment to choose his words, and Hoseok opts to fill in the blank for him. 

"Confusing. Frustrating. Demeaning."

"Distant," Yoongi provides.

"Distant," Hoseok parrots with a humorless chuckle. "Sure, yeah, that's certainly one way to put it."

There is sincerity in his rich tone as Yoongi drops his arms to his sides and says, "I'm sorry." 

"You could have at least sent a reassuring text message. Or even an apology. Any kind of communication at all."

"My distracted state the other night was nothing personal, but I should have given you a heads up that I had a lot on my plate."

"The other night, all weekend, all day," Hoseok corrects, allowing himself to feel the full range of his anger. "Not one word. You gave me nothing."

Yoongi sighs and slowly stands, remaining leaned against his desk. 

"And, look, I don't feel like you owe me an explanation," Hoseok says, eager to make his desires clear. "But a simple heads up would be nice. I know that you and I are not an item, and I don't care that we aren't – that's not my goal with you. But don't let me play footsie with your cock under the table and tease me with promises of a kiss, but then give me the cold shoulder."

Something in Yoongi's gaze shifts – darkens. His lips part, and his stance relaxes. 

"So what is it that you want?" Yoongi asks.

"Truthfully?" Hoseok says, and Yoongi nods. "More than anything, I want a healthy work relationship. I want to excel in my field and become a supermodel, and I know that you and your team have the means to do that for me."

Yoongi nods, cracking a smile, filling Hoseok with pride and encouraging him to continue voicing his desires. "I also want to lay you out on your big, expensive desk, and fuck your brains out."

Yoongi's lips part wide in a gasp. It is subtle the way blush rises to his pretty cheeks, but even in the dim light of his office, Hoseok can make out a shift in hue.

"I'm not interested in having strings attached," Yoongi says with the lift of an eyebrow as if in warning. 

"No shit," Hoseok scoffs, holding firm, challenging eye contact. 

They stare at each other unmoving for only a few seconds, but those seconds drag on, thickening the air with rich, palpable tension. Hoseok slowly breathes in through his nose, allowing himself to dwell on the familiar musky and floral notes that cling to the air and drive him wild. 

"Come here," Yoongi commands softly, nearly a whisper. 

As if tugged by some invisible force, Hoseok stumbles forward automatically. Yoongi's thighs spread, allowing Hoseok to get nice and close, standing taller than usual with Yoongi's hips bending slightly. 

Hoseok sets his handbag down on the desk and looms, drinking in the heat exchanged between them. Whereas Yoongi had the upper hand last time – pulling Hoseok near, slotting their lips together, and pressing him into the wall – this time, Hoseok intends on giving him zero control. 

"Tell me what you want from me," Hoseok says, placing his hands on the edges of the desk and leaning close enough to smell the sweetness of Yoongi's breath. 

Yoongi's eyes fall to Hoseok's lips, and he very subtly smiles, saying, "I still owe you a kiss."

"You want to kiss me?"

Yoongi's lips twitch faintly. "Yes."

"Is that all?" Hoseok asks, tilting his head to the side as if giving into the command but keeping the miniscule distance between them. 

"I want you, Hoseok." Yoongi's rich timbre is as deep and alluring as the ocean, and undoubtedly posing just as big of a threat. "Physically…in any way you will allow me to have you…I want you."

"If I let you have me," Hoseok says softly, annunciating every syllable with purpose, "I need at least a little communication. No fucking around with my feelings. Even without strings attached, I still have feelings, Yoongi."

Hoseok drops honorifics, wondering if Yoongi will care, and Yoongi just nods, eyes pleading. He seems genuine, but he has also seemed genuine in the past. 

Still, Hoseok cannot hold back any longer. He rolls his hips forward, connecting their bodies before he connects their lips, breathing in the slight gasp that tumbles from Yoongi's mouth into his the moment their lips touch. 

Yoongi sighs into the kiss, but Hoseok has no intention of going easy on him. He rolls his hips again, forcing Yoongi's thighs to spread further as he licks over his pretty lips and darts his tongue inside the small opening. 

It comes as somewhat of a surprise the way Yoongi seems to melt and become pliant, hands still gripping the desk and giving Hoseok access to do as he pleases, moaning softly but unabashedly. Hoseok lifts a hand and cards it roughly into Yoongi's product-slickened hair, taking no care to prevent the strands from tugging before grabbing a handful. 

With a gasp and a whimper, Yoongi's mouth falls further open, and Hoseok licks inside, darting his tongue around to taste and tease. He hums whenever their lips enclose one another, only for Yoongi to moan each time Hoseok forces him to open wide again.

Finally, Yoongi lifts his hands and grips Hoseok's hips, digging his fingertips and pulling him close. Hoseok rolls his hips again, picking up a slow but firm rhythm, connecting their clothed cocks somewhat haphazardly but with a promise to Yoongi of what could be his. 

"Hoseok," Yoongi gasps against his lips, causing them to tug into a smile.

"Yes, pretty Yoongi?"

"Please," he rasps, fingertips digging with more purpose, pulling Hoseok's hips close. 

"Please, what?"

With a needy sigh, Yoongi tips his head back as if gasping for air. His lips are kiss-slick, and Hoseok sucks the bottom one between his teeth, only releasing when Yoongi whimpers a high, broken sound. 

"What is it, Yoongi?" Hoseok asks firmly, rubbing the tips of their noses together. 

Yoongi heavy-blinks as if struggling to gather his thoughts. He lets out a breathy chuckle, and Hoseok wonders if it is some kind of nervous tick. 

"I don't know," he mutters, eyes searching Hoseok's face. "I want more, but I'm not sure how we should proceed."

There is a shred of vulnerability in Yoongi's expression, laced in Yoongi's voice, that Hoseok so desperately wants to exploit. 

He nibbles on his own bottom lip, backing up only enough to fully take in Yoongis's face. He wonders if it would be more exquisite to use his mouth to make Yoongi fall apart or have the other on his knees for him. 

"I have an idea," Hoseok offers, cocking his head to the side before lowering to a nearby brown leather armchair.

Yoongi watches as Hoseok settles and scoots the heavy chair closer, leaning forward to press his palms against Yoongi's hips through the semi-soft, white wool of his trouser shorts. Yoongi's lidded gaze darkens, and he reaches slowly to graze the backs of his knuckles along Hoseok's cheek before pressing his thumb against Hoseok's bottom lip and dragging it down. 

"Hoseok," Yoongi groans, taking a step forward to properly tower over him. "You have no idea how many times I have dreamed of having you like this."

Hoseok grins, nibbles on the tip of Yoongi's thumb, and opens his mouth to fully suck the digit between his lips when there is a loud knock on the door, followed by the handle rattling. 

Panic rises, and Hoseok sits tall in the leather chair before instinctively slumping back. He is able to use his feet to push it back a little, putting space between himself and the desk.

Yoongi is quick to take a step back, cross one leg over the other, and fold his arms over his chest. He leans against his desk a stoic statue of a man, with his erection hidden nicely by the way he stands. Although there are subtle signs of Yoongi's lips having just been used, and his hair is somewhat out of place on one side, his expression is flat and gives absolutely nothing away.

In hindsight, Hoseok probably should have locked the door. 

"Yoongi-ah," a breathy female voice calls, "I know you said our conversation was over, but I'm here to— oh."

Hoseok turns to find Seori standing with her arm outstretched, holding the office door wide open. She wears a red satin robe that falls just above her knees, and her nipples stand out beneath the thin fabric. 

"Oh!" she says again, eyes darting between Yoongi and Hoseok. "I'm so— I'm sorry. I had no idea you were busy."

"What do you want?" Yoongi asks, running a hand over the hair that had come untucked behind his ear, flattening it somewhat. 

Hoseok focuses his attention on his boss, impressed by how measured and blank Yoongi can become in an instant. Absolutely nothing gives away the heated exchange they shared only moments earlier, nor any hint of interest in the model. 

"Can I, uh…talk to you?" Seori asks. 

Yoongi gives a curt nod and steps away from the desk, arms falling limply at his sides. And despite the hushed way in which Seori speaks on the other end of the room, the sound travels just enough for Hoseok to detect. 

"Please, I just want—"

"I told you, we're finished. Please accept that."

"But Yoongi, I—"

Yoongi speaks low and soft, but loud enough that Hoseok questions whether he wants to be overheard. "Please don't ruin your career over a brief tryst. You are a fine model, and I would hate to lose you because you cannot take no for an answer."

Whatever the woman says next is too pitchy and distraught for Hoseok to make out. He feels awkward eavesdropping now, cursing himself once more for not locking the door. Yoongi's voice drops to an octave that is undetectable at this distance, and soon the office door is clicking shut. 

An exasperated sigh pulls Hoseok's attention, and he turns to find Yoongi standing with his face tipped to the ceiling, taking a deep breath. Really, Yoongi has no one to blame but himself for this mess, yet Hoseok finds he feels for the man. 

"Wanna get out of here?" he offers. 

Yoongi snaps his gaze to Hoseok, instantly relaxing. Hoseok stands from the chair and fully faces Yoongi, but does not approach, watching as the man studies his face, seeming to weigh his options. 

Then he nods and says, "Yeah. Let's go."

Hoseok smooths his hands down his shorts and gathers his handbag while Yoongi quickly crosses the room and shuts off his monitor. He does not touch Hoseok as they leave, and Hoseok gives him space to lock up and walk down the steps toward the exit. 

Across the room, Seori is on the phone, and she seems distressed. Hoseok glances at Yoongi, watching whether or not the man seems concerned, unsurprised when he does not. As they approach the door, within earshot of the model, Yoongi turns to Hoseok, expression as flat as can be, and begins to talk shop.

"So, as I said," he mutters just loud enough to be overheard, "once we have the greenlight from Dior, Seokjin and I will sit down with you to discuss what the next steps are. There is talk of another brand scouting you, but I think Seokjin should be the one to deliver the good news."

By the time Yoongi finishes his sentence, they are outside. The air is far cooler now that the sun is beginning to set, and Hoseok's shoulders rise instinctively as he shivers through an exhale. He wonders if what Yoongi just said about another brand scouting him is really true, or just something he made up on the fly.

Yoongi walks to the left, where his vehicle is parked on the curb, and Hoseok follows suit, slipping into the passenger seat as soon as the door is unlocked and making haste to buckle his seatbelt. No words are exchanged as Yoongi presses the ignition start button and drives off, and Hoseok sits back in the cool leather seat, accepting his fate. 

Despite his attempts at fortifying his heart, Hoseok acknowledges that a small part of him does wonder what it would be like to be the only object of Yoongi's affection. Beyond his money and status in the industry, he imagines what it would be like to receive consistent, uninhibited attention from a man like Yoongi. 

The ride remains silent until Yoongi pulls up to the curb outside his apartment, puts the car into park, and sits back with a heavy exhale. 

"Seok," he grumbles, pulling Hoseok's attention. He likes that the nickname has returned, and he does his best to ignore the way goosebumps break out over his skin. "Out of an abundance of transparency, I just want to state that I am not currently, uh, seeing anyone else."

Hoseok has no idea what to say, so instead he stares. Despite Yoongi's innate ability to keep his expressions measured and cool, there are small tells that give away his nervousness, like the way he slightly darts his tongue across his bottom lip, and how his eyes seem to focus in and out while he thinks. 

"Seori may seem like a current and constant nuisance, but she and I only hooked up once, months ago. I don't want to reduce her worth by calling it a drunken mistake, but that genuinely is all that the experience was. And, well, I don't want to point any blame, but it seems that your presence in the studio has caused her to ramp up her attempts at repeating what we did." 

Yoongi sighs, screwing up his face as if he is pained as he says, "The other day, when I was on my phone during the contract signing, I was attempting to assuage her anger with me giving you the cover, as well as inside ads."

"You were text-fighting with her all evening?" Hoseok asks with more of an edge to his voice than he intended, because, truth be told, he is a bit angry that Yoongi felt he couldn't just say something. 

"My reputation is somewhat exaggerated. I do not come onto every model I hire, but because I am not one to get caught in a dating scandal, rumors fly in favor of me appearing to be a fuckboy. I do occasionally give in to desire, and I am sure your friend Jeongguk has a story of his own…but it is never my intention to use people up and toss them aside."

"He told me the two of you were hooking up until Seori showed up and you dropped him like a sweet potato."

"So you alluded to, the other night." The edges of Yoongi's lips raise for the splittest of seconds, and then he sighs once more. "That was bad timing, at best. Jeongguk was fun to spend time with, but he was clingy and seemed to want a relationship, which I was not willing to provide."

"Clingy," Hoseok mutters, chuckling at the end of the word. 

"I don't necessarily mean it in a bad way."

Hoseok tongues the inside of his mouth, voice low as he says, "Well, he seems pretty hurt."

"It's not like I dropped Jeongguk abruptly. We spoke about it on several occasions, but I admit, he was a hard one to let go of. We had fun."

With a slow, heavy exhale, Hoseok mutters, "Alright, well…I'm still annoyed with you for ignoring me all night, and all weekend, and... You could have at least clued me in a little."

"I shouldn't be telling you this," Yoongi drops his voice lower, "but Seori was attempting to blackmail me. She thought threats of defamation would put me in her palm, and although I have immaculate legal counsel, the whole thing put me in a sour headspace. You are right that I should have said something to you."

Hoseok hums, taking the information in, unsure what to say. 

"I tell you all of this because I was thinking about the other night, at the sushi restaurant, just before your shoe happened to be tucked tight between my legs. You were asking whether I was kissing and spoiling any other models."

A shiver runs along Hoseok's spine at the memory, and he watches Yoongi's lips as he says, "I'm only spoiling you."

Hoseok wants to believe him. He thinks he really does believe him. But he is still determined to only give so much, and not allow himself to get too swept up in whatever Yoongi is trying to do. 

If Yoongi is so eager to insist they are exclusive, where does the line draw between fucking and dating? It is no wonder Jeongguk seemed to misunderstand their arrangement, and Hoseok worries he will end up in the same position.

"Okay," is all Hoseok says because his heart whooshes so loudly in his ears that it is hard to form a more coherent thought. 

"Seok," Yoongi mutters, formed like a question, "what's on your mind?"

"I want to go upstairs," Hoseok says somewhat robotically, eyes lingering on Yoongi's lips.

He watches as the tip of Yoongi's tongue darts out and wets his bottom lip, and he fights the overwhelming urge to lean forward and suck it between his teeth. 

"Alright," Yoongi says. "Let's go upstairs."

Hoseok forgets he is wearing a seatbelt as he reaches for the handle and attempts to get out of the vehicle, finding himself momentarily trapped and flustered. Once he is finally free, he joins Yoongi on the sidewalk, attempting to be as calm as possible as they make their way through the lobby to the elevator. 

Hoseok remembers Jeongguk saying Yoongi bent him over the couch in his studio, causing his stomach to tie in knots. He is not eager to have a repeated experience that his friend had. 

Thankfully, Yoongi seems to have other plans. He holds his key to the pad in the elevator and hits the number five. Hoseok stares at the round button glowing with a golden ring. 

He wonders how the apartment level differs from the studio level. How does Yoongi furnish his home? What kind of vibe is he into?

As the elevator dings, Hoseok sucks in a breath. He grips onto the straps of his handbag while the doors slide open, and Yoongi walks into the small hallway first, kicking out of his loafers and leaving them near tidy rows of shoes. Hoseok does the same and sets his handbag by his shoes while Yoongi enters the code to the door into the keypad.

For some inexplicable reason, the beeping sounds from the keypad seem louder than usual. Hoseok swallows thickly and licks his lips as Yoongi opens the door, switches on a dim overhead light, and shuffles into his home.

Hoseok is not at all surprised to find that everything is black and grey. The floors, the rugs, the walls, the furniture, are all black, with grey curtains and silver accents that add hints of lightness. 

The entire far wall is a window, allowing a gradient of light to pour in from the setting sun, and hanging from the high ceilings are rectangular light fixtures, from which dim golden light glows, illuminating the space nicely. 

From the marble floors, to the plush rugs and matte-finished woods, the textures are so rich and varied that everything appears to be its own shade of black, especially with the golden glow of the overhead lights. Plush, soft couches make a large u-shape in front of the massive window, and sprawled over black tables and shelves are books, various camera equipment, and file folders.

"Wow, so bright and colorful," Hoseok chides as Yoongi leads him to the right, toward the large open kitchen – the same placement as in the studio downstairs. 

"What can I say, I'm a man of simple tastes," Yoongi drawls over his shoulder. "Water?" he asks, tugging open the door of a massive black refrigerator. "Soju? Whiskey? Beer?"

Yoongi looks over his shoulder, illuminated by the bright white glow of his fridge. He has given Hoseok too many options, and he finds he cannot choose. 

"Water is fine," he mutters when Yoongi impatiently lifts his eyebrows. "Unless you want a little something to take the edge off."

Hoseok feels nervous – why does he feel nervous? His hands fidget in the wide sleeves of his hanbok top, and he finds his gaze wandering around the apartment, unable to stay in one place. Perhaps it is the conversation in the car that has caused the excitement from earlier to shift into nervous energy.

"I don't have an edge to take off," Yoongi responds. "Do you have an edge?" 

This kitchen is not as barren as the one in the studio. Yoongi appears to have every appliance known to man, all neatly in place along countertops and storage shelves. This place actually appears lived in and cared for, and Hoseok finds the enveloping darkness surprisingly calming. 

"No," he lies, realizing he had been stuck in his head. "No edge."

Yoongi chuckles and closes the fridge empty-handed, then he moves to the right, to where cabinets sit tall above a large sink, and he produces two shot glasses and a large glass. As he turns on the sink and switches on a filter that is attached to the faucet, he glances over his shoulder and nods to a nearby cabinet, saying, "You seem to have a slight edge. Pick your poison and we'll do a shot to loosen up."

To the right of the sink, above the countertop, is a cabinet with a glass window showcasing several bottles of whiskey. Hoseok finds a Japanese one with an inviting white and black label and pulls it out while Yoongi shuts off the sink and sets down a tall glass of water. 

"Nice pick," Yoongi says as he reaches for the bottle, uncorks the top, and pours two shots. 

Hoseok inches nice and close – close enough to smell the cologne Yoongi wears – and reaches for one of the shots. They clink the glasses together softly and shoot the liquid back, and although it is rich and smooth, the strength makes Hoseok wince, which in turn makes Yoongi chuckle.  

"It's good," Hoseok insists, feeling somewhat embarrassed despite having no reason to be. "Just strong."

"One more?" Yoongi asks, leaning close. "Or is your edge softened?"

"One more," Hoseok responds, tipping his chin upward in a challenge. "I wanna taste it on your tongue."

Yoongi snickers then pours two more shots, which they quickly drink back, and this time, Hoseok does not react as strongly to the earthy, semi-sweet flavor. This time, he picks up hints of caramel and enjoys the way it settles over him like a warm hug. 

Ordinarily, two shots are hardly enough to make Hoseok feel anything but warm and energized. But he only ate breakfast today, a realization that makes him feel somewhat foolish, all things considered, and the whiskey has a bit of an effect on him.

Hoseok feels light around the edges. Fuzzy tendrils of frenetic energy erupt from him like tiny solar flares ignited by Japanese whiskey and Yoongi's proximity. He places his hands against Yoongi's hips and turns him until his ass is against the counter, then he slides his hands to rest against the countertop, caging Yoongi in like he had in his office. 

"Kiss me," he whispers, elated as Yoongi obeys immediately, leaning close to lick over Hoseok's lips and then part his own.

Hoseok sucks Yoongi's bottom lip into his mouth, smiling as he whimpers. He licks over Yoongi's tongue, tasting remnants of heady caramel and something far sweeter and more personal. As if driven mad by the flavor, leans his body against Yoongi's to rut his hips forward. 

"Bed," Yoongi mutters against Hoseok, to which Hoseok nods without disconnecting their lips. He is not ready to stop tasting Yoongi just yet. He wants to commit the flavor to memory. 

Yoongi's hands find Hoseok's hips and grip tightly, working to both spur him on and calm him down. Hoseok parts the kiss with a heavy sigh and nods once more, resting his forehead against Yoongi's and allowing himself to return to earth. 

Then he reaches for the cold glass of tap water and takes a long, slow gulp, hips still pressed against Yoongi with a slight twist to them. He drinks half of the glass down then holds it for Yoongi to have, and takes a step back to give both of them a little space. 

Yoongi drinks then sets the glass aside, takes Hoseok's hand, and leads him through the apartment, past the large glass wall through which the sun sets into an inviting greyish blue with pink hues. The door straight ahead is open – the same place the door to Yoongi's studio can be found on the floor below – and Yoongi walks in and flips a switch that invites a soft purple glow.

Similar to the rest of the house, everything is shades of black, save for the bedding, curtains, and rugs which are forest green. Two of the walls are made of glass, allowing the light from the setting sun to pour in through sheer dark green curtains, and there is dark furniture throughout, but Hoseok's attention is on the bed – a wide mattress on a low black platform that is lifted inches from the floor, under which a purple light glows. 

"You can change the color if you'd like," Yoongi offers, speaking directly into Hoseok's ear and fanning warm breath against his cheek. 

Hoseok tugs Yoongi's hand toward the bed and says, "I bet purple would look nice against your skin," as they stop and face each other. 

Hoseok begins to yank open Yoongi's white blazer, which absorbs the light into a pretty lilac shade, and Yoongi chuckles and takes over, very delicately removing the item and handing it to Hoseok. 

"Leave it there," he instructs with a nod of his chin, and Hoseok turns to find a small armchair nearby, to the right of the bed, over which a black blazer rests. He drapes the new blazer beside the other and turns back to find Yoongi unbuttoning and untucking his white dress shirt. 

With each inch of skin that Yoongi reveals, Hoseok feels his heart begin to race. He shrugs quickly from his hanbok top, tossing it in a heap onto the armchair, then yanks his tank top over his head and chucks it aside.

When his fingers reach the button of his shorts, Yoongi's large, knobby fingers stop his movements, pulling his hands away. Hoseok looks up from his interrupted task to find Yoongi shirtless and sinking to his knees. 

"Let me do it," he insists.

Hoseok nods and swallows thickly, watching as Yoongi's knees are engulfed by a soft, dark green shag rug. Yoongi rubs his hands up Hoseok's thighs, causing a warmth to simmer in the pit of his tummy, and he breathes deep and slow, doing his best to maintain his composure. 

As Yoongi yanks at Hoseok's shorts, pulling them past his knees, he sits high and wafts his breath against his black briefs, warm then cool on his growing erection. With his gaze directed at Hoseok's eyes, Yoongi nudges his nose and lips against him, taking deep breaths as if savoring his musk, and Hoseok reaches one hand to grip Yoongi's product-slick hair and give his head a rough tug. 

Yoongi whimpers, and the sight of him on his knees, submissive and making such pretty sounds kicks Hoseok's need to tame him into overdrive. Yoongi reaches for Hoseok's waistband, but Hoseok shakes his head and says, "Hands at your sides."

With a gasp, Yoongi's eyes widen – pretty and endless depths of inviting brown. Hoseok tongues the inside of his cheek and grips Yoongi's hair a little rougher. 

"You have to earn it."

"Earn it?" Yoongi responds almost sardonically, and Hoseok yanks at his head just enough to make him whimper and sigh. 

"You heard me. Earn it."

"Please?" Yoongi tries, batting his long, dark lashes like a pretty little doll. 

"Please, what?"

"Please let me taste you."

"Only good boys get to suck my cock, pretty Yoongi," Hoseok responds in a mocking tone. Yoongi's pupils react to his words, and Hoseok snickers. "Are you going to be a good boy for me?"

"Yes, Seok," Yoongi practically moans. "I'll be a good boy for you."

"Not just tonight," Hoseok says, tipping his head to the side and peering down at Yoongi with squinted eyes. "You're going to be good to me for as long as we do whatever it is that we are doing. No more miscommunications. No more half-truths."

"I'll be good for you," Yoongi insists, eyes wide and pleading. 

"You're still my boss, so we will have to navigate that dynamic one day at a time," Hoseok continues, reaching his other hand to drag his thumb along Yoongi's bottom lip the way Yoongi did to him in his office. "As long as we are not at work, we are equals, and you will treat me as such."

"Yes, Seok," Yoongi mutters. 

Hoseok gives his hair a tug and grits, "Louder," through his teeth.

"I'll be good to you, Seok," Yoongi's voice switches from coy desperation to firm insistence, deepening as he says, "Please let me be so good to you."

Hoseok's head spins. He nods and releases Yoongi's hair, then drops his arms to his sides and says, "One thing I like about you is your quick wit and sharp tongue…and I'm sure that is not the extent of what that pretty mouth can do."

Yoongi grins, then lifts his hands to paw over Hoseok's cock and grab for his waistband. Arousal soars through Hoseok – lava in his veins – and he does his best to keep his composure, whimpering softly while he holds firm eye contact with Yoongi.

That is, until he pulls Hoseok's briefs down, and Yoongi's gaze falls to his freed cock. His eyes widen, and he licks his lips as he sits high on his knees and shuffles a little closer. With slow strokes, Yoongi makes Hoseok dizzy, dragging against his foreskin before pushing it down, revealing a flushed head and length. 

With a delicate flick of his bubblegum tongue, Yoongi laps up the precum that drips from Hoseok's tip, sending a shiver down his spine. Yoongi drags his lips over the tip and crown, gaze intently returning to Hoseok, teasing with feather-light touches. 

Hoseok smirks down at the man – eager to knock him off his pedestal a little – and asks, "How many other pretty models have you dropped to your knees so easily for?"

Yoongi's eyes widen, burning with something Hoseok struggles to discern, and a scoff comes from between his lips. He seems incensed but so terribly aroused. Hoseok grins. 

"That's what I thought," Hoseok grumbles bending as he grips Yoongi by the chin and tugs enough to make him sit even higher. He feels powerful and possessive. "This is all for me. Now, open." 

As soon as Yoongi's lips part, Hoseok spits into his mouth. Yoongi's eyes widen further, and he keeps his mouth open as if he is waiting for instruction. His submissive side has Hoseok simmering with desire. 

"You're so perfect, Yoongi," Hoseok praises just above a whisper. "So fucking perfect. Now put those pretty lips to good use."

Yoongi nods once – a shallow, quick movement – then wastes no time taking Hoseok's length deep into his throat. Hoseok feels Yoongi swallow and possibly begin to gag, but he is slow with the way he pulls back and sinks down, sucking with his lips tight around the tip each time, eliciting bursting waves of pleasure. 

"Fuck, Yoongi," Hoseok groans, reaching to grip his hair with his right hand. He cannot believe this is finally happening. "Your mouth feels amazing."

Yoongi hums and moans, increasing his speed but never seeming rushed, and Hoseok's head spins as his arousal builds and builds. It has been far too fucking long since he has had someone so pretty down on their knees, and the sight alone of Yoongi's doll lips wrapped around him while tears pool around his delicate, long eyelashes builds his pleasure too fast. 

"I won't last long," he whimpers. "Feels too good."

As if spurred on to push Hoseok over the edge, Yoongi swallows his cock deeper, holding it lodged in his throat until his face begins to redden and his eyes bulge. The sensation is exquisite, especially as Yoongi pulls back, mouth full of thick saliva, making the slide smooth as silk. 

And again, Yoongi sinks down as deep as he can and holds Hoseok there, gaze trained upward despite the way his eyelashes flicker. Hoseok reaches with his free hand and gives Yoongi's cheek a delicate slap, then lower to cradle Yoongi's throat and feel himself buried deep from the outside. 

"Holy fuck," he babbles, nodding. "Fuck, you drive me crazy, Yoongi. Such a good boy, perfect, perfect."

This time, when Yoongi pulls back, saliva pours from between his lips, and he uses both hands to stroke along Hoseok's length while he bobs his tightened lips just past the head, laving with his tongue. 

Hoseok is overstimulated in a way he has never experienced from a blowjob, and his resolve crumbles in an instant. 

"Gonna cum, fuck," Hoseok warns. "Can I cum in your mouth?"

Yoongi heavy-blinks and attempts to nod, lips and hands still working Hoseok over. Hoseok's entire body feels hot – set alight, threatening to combust. 

"Fuck, fuck," Hoseok whimpers, trembling from pleasure that teeters just on the edge of insanity. 

Yoongi stills his head, holding his mouth open and tongue flat while stroking Hoseok with both hands. The tip of his cock drags along Yoongi's pretty tongue, and with one more measured stroke, Hoseok releases, moaning and gasping, practically folding in half as his cum spurts in long ropes, painting Yoongi white. 

Although the strokes slow, they do not stop. Yoongi's large, soft hands milk him of every last drop until Hoseok is gripping Yoongi's shoulders and he is begging him to have mercy. 

"Fuck, Yoongi," he gasps, lowering to his knees, no longer able to hold himself up.

Yoongi's tongue continues to lay flat, cum and drool dripping down his chin, and Hoseok sits high and spits once more into his mouth before commanding him to, "Swallow."

Hoseok watches intently as Yoongi closes his lips and swallows his cum, then his hands are on him, lazily gripping at his throat and neck. He feels drunk with power and desire – feels ready to allow the blaze inside him to swallow both of them whole. 

"On the bed," Hoseok commands.

Yoongi's face is flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, his once-style hair is fucked up and sticking out on the sides, and his lips are pretty kiss-swollen petals. He breathes slow and deep as he nods, eyelashes fluttering as if he too is coming down from a high. 

Rather than stand, Yoongi turns haphazardly on his knees, gets onto his hands, and crawls. His white trouser shorts hug his plump round ass, swaying with each movement like a beacon of pleasure, and Hoseok crawls behind him, eyes never leaving his prize until they must – until Yoongi climbs up the platform bed and turns, sitting with his feet planted on the floor. 

Hoseok crawls to Yoongi's shins, then sits high on his knees and uses his palms to spread his thighs. He licks his lips and reaches for Yoongi's button and zipper, but Yoongi grips Hoseok by the wrists and yanks. 

"Come here, Seok."

Nodding, still feeling somewhat delirious, Hoseok gets up onto his feet just enough to crash down onto the low bed, caging Yoongi's legs as the man chuckles and crawls backward to the center of the mattress.

"I have an idea," Yoongi promises, rotating to scoot until his shoulders are against the dark headboard. He pats his legs and says, "Come here," while he hastily shoves his shorts and briefs down, and his voice is rougher than usual, no doubt from deepthroating.

For the first time since all of this has started, Hoseok gets a good look at Yoongi. His complexion is soft and supple against the dark bedding, and his body is a gorgeous blend of thin and muscular – similar to Hoseok, yet different. His shoulders are wide, his hands are large, yet he is knobby and slightly lanky, small against the large bed. Breathtaking.

The hair at the base of Yoongi's hard, leaking cock is trimmed low – an inviting patch of black against lilac-tinted skin. Hoseok leans close to kiss along Yoongi's hip and breathes in his musky-sweet scent, but before he can tease, Yoongi has both hands on Hoseok's cheeks and jaw, tugging him upward.

Hoseok lifts and wiggles beside Yoongi, who has slithered down into a lying position. "Kiss me," he groans, still pulling Hoseok by the face, forcing him to crash down against him, licking against his lips. 

As Hoseok settles onto his side, Yoongi drapes a leg around Hoseok's hips and rolls their bodies together. Already, Hoseok's cock is becoming erect, and with each roll of Yoongi's hips, he feels hypnotized. 

"Fuck, Yoongi," Hoseok groans, sinking low against Yoongi's chest to leave marks with his lips and teeth that will be hidden under clothing tomorrow. "You don't know what you do to me."

Yoongi lifts his hand to Hoseok's lips and rasps, "Spit," and Hoseok obeys, gathering saliva under his tongue only to trickle it into his palm. Then Yoongi reaches between them, engulfs both cocks in his warm grip, and thrusts. 

"Oh, shit," Hoseok whimpers in tandem with a deep, needy groan from Yoongi. 

Hoseok spits hastily into his own hand and reaches to engulf them further, then he sets a rhythm with his hips, pushing when Yoongi pulls and pulling when Yoongi pushes. Pleasure grips Hoseok tight, threatening to drag him into the hot, inviting depths of hell, and Hoseok whimpers as he leans into Yoongi, sucking his lips between his teeth. 

The kiss is a sloppy gnash of teeth and tongues with nobody in control. Yoongi seems to be losing his composure quickly, and the more he moans and trembles against Hoseok, the more persistently Hoseok strokes their dicks. 

Their rhythm is hypnotizing – a dance between two bodies so fluid and perfect, Hoseok has a lingering thought that perhaps the two of them were meant for each other. Their connection feels so intense, it scares the shit out of him.

"Seok," Yoongi whimpers, lower lip caught in Hoseok's teeth. "Close. So close. "Gonna—"

"In my mouth," Hoseok insists, releasing his hold on their cocks and haphazardly sliding down the length of Yoongi's body.

He is quick to sink Yoongi deep into his throat, wasting no time sucking as if his life depends on it. Yoongi stays on his side and grips onto Hoseok's hair, hips trusting, never losing their dizzying rhythm. 

Hoseok can feel Yoongi pulsate against his lips and he swallows him deep, moaning and humming around him until Yoongi's hips tremble and he shoots his load straight into Hoseok's throat. Yoongi's voice is pitchy and broken, his body quakes with bliss, and Hoseok breathes through his nose, doing his best to swallow each drop without his gag reflex interfering.

Suddenly exhausted, Hoseok releases Yoongi's spent cock, gasping for air. It is messy the way Yoongi attempts to pull Hoseok's lips back to his, body bent in half while Hoseok stretches and strains until he finally finds the strength to crawl up to him and kiss him properly. 

"Seok," Yoongi gasps against his lips, eyes wide and filling Hoseok's vision. "You're incredible. Nobody…" he pants, "nobody has ever made me feel this way."

Honeyed words taste bitter against Hoseok's tongue as he considers all the different times Yoongi must have used that line before. How many models did he sink his claws into similarly, only to drop without a care in the world? What is worse is that Hoseok almost believes him.

Yoongi holds Hoseok in place against him, lips lazily dragging, eager to kiss despite losing the strength to move. Hoseok's mouth moves on instinct alone, erection long forgotten to the brewing storm inside his head.

"Nap," Yoongi grumbles, body falling limp and relaxed around him. "Then food."

"Okay," Hoseok whispers as he reaches for the soft comforter on which they lay, folding it over them rather than bothering to attempt to crawl beneath it. 

Yoongi smiles, drifting to sleep, and Hoseok leaves soft pecks against the tip of his nose and the apple of his cheek, eager to kiss and kiss and kiss. He wants to commit this moment to memory in the event that this is the last time. 

As Yoongi's body becomes heavy as lead, lost to the firm grasp of sleep, Hoseok waits for him to lightly begin to snore. He waits, laying on his side and tracing each shape of Yoongi's beautiful face, shoulders, and chest with his eyes. 

He waits and he waits until Yoongi rolls onto his back, limbs slipping away from Hoseok's nude body. And then he waits just a beat longer before he slowly, silently slips out from beneath the comforter, collects his clothing, and tiptoes into the living room. 

It is still early in the night, and Hoseok stares out the window at the city below the hill, at the river in the distance, at the cars that drive by. He slips into his clothing, tiptoes to the front door, gathers his handbag and shoes, and, in the elevator, calls for a cab.

Over and over, Yoongi's voice plays in Hoseok's head. Nobody has ever made me feel this way. 

Over and over, his pretty, tearful eyes and soft, kissable lips sear into Hoseok's mind, taking up permanent residence, threatening to drive him mad. Hoseok stares at his reflection in the elevator doors, unsure how he is supposed to feel. 

He got it out of his system. He successfully fucked with the pretty man with the reputation for using people, and he slipped away in the night, giving him a taste of his own medicine. 

But he does not feel satisfied. It is as if vines have snaked their way into his chest cavity and they squeeze, threatening to puncture his lungs with their thorns and steal his air. 

He feels defeated. Deflated. He has accomplished his goal, yet he does not feel victorious. 

Nobody has ever made me feel this way. 

Those pretty words spoken in that raspy voice taunt him over and over, and Hoseok walks out into the chill night feeling emptier than before.  

one more chapter left!!! and don't worry, these two idiots will have a happy ending, okay. i just have to drag you through the angst mud a little more because it's funnnn. 😍😍😍 apparently i can only focus on one bestie at a time, so i will do my best to bring Taehyung into the spotlight in chapter 4!

also i feel like it is silly to have described Yoongi living in an all black and grey space with my whole entire chest, but this is what i had in mind:

MORE COMING SOON!!! COMMENTS & REBLOGS WILL MAKE ME WANT TO WORK ON IT FASTER! LIKES ARE ALWAYS SO SO APPRECIATED!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!

tag list: @codeinebelle @dasexydevitt13 @fluffybuns69 @giriiboyy @idkjustlovingbts @itsmina29 @mgthecat @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki 📸 want to be added to this tag list for part 4? or the list for all of my member x member fics?? or everything i post??? or maybe this fic isn’t for you and you want to be removed???? comment or dm! i will make your dreams a reality.

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Showstopper is copyright theharrowing 2022 - 2024. no translations or reposting allowed!

[satorusugurugurl]

Congratulations on your milestone! Could I have a Choso fic for Bonfire and Smores? Just a tender moment for him to learn how to enjoy life again?

S’mores??

Summary: Marie’s Summer Fest prompt: bonfires and s’mores

Pairing: Choso Kamo x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: sweet fluffy fluff!

Word Count: 1,257

A/N: I would do anything to take Choso out for s’more! He would be so cute! I hope you enjoy it!

The stars twinkle above your head while the cicadas hum in the trees. The heat of the fire in front of Choso crackled and popped, warming his slightly chilled skin. You had told him to sit there and wait as you ventured into your car to retrieve the surprise you had promised him.

You had brought him up into the mountains for a nice little getaway. Both of you had had nothing but a string of challenging missions you had to take on. So, to say that you both were burnt out was a bit of an understatement. Choso had admitted to you the day before that he felt drained, which was strange seeing that he was half human and half curse. But in your eyes, Choso was more human than he thought.

And being human meant that you both need to take some breaks.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” Choso turned, watching as you ran back over to him, sitting down on the long you both had called your seat for the evening. And one hand held a bag. In the other, you held two metal sticks. Choso eyed the sharp metal sticks before focusing on the bag. “Hold these for me!”

Your sweet boyfriend took the sticks from you without any questions asked. Instead, he watched you pull out three items from the bag you held—a box of graham crackers, white poofy things, and chocolate bars. Choso had no clue what you were going to do with those three very different items. Glancing over at your boyfriend, you giggled at the confused look that was tugging at the features of his pretty face.

“You look so confused, Cho.”

“Because I am confused. What are you planning on doing with that stuff?”

You pressed your index finger against his lips, tilting your head to the side with a wide, warm smile. “More like, what are we going to do.” When your boyfriend does not, he has an understanding. You pulled your finger away from his mouth. “We're going to make some s’mores.” the word s’mores only seems to have more form in your boyfriend’s head.

“S’mores?”

“Mhmm! An American dessert that I had once when I was overseas. I was on a mission in the mountains, and the group of sorcerers that I was with started making s’mores. It was nice way to mission.”

“Huh—okay, how I’ll help you!” you ripped open the bag of jumbo-sized marshmallows before plucking one out of the bag and handing it to your boyfriend.“Go ahead and stick onto your metal stick!” once Choso confusingly did as you said, you still got up standing behind him using his arms to place the metal kebab stick over the open flames of the bonfire you had lit. “Now you’re gonna hold it over the fire and turn it slowly to toast it.”

Choso’s eyes were focused on pure, sugary confection as he twisted the metal stick you had provided him, toasting the white thing you had put on the sharp end. “Like this?” he stole a glance in your direction, not once stopping as he continued to turn the marshmallow over the hot open flames.

“Yeah, there you go!” He watched as you opened the box of crackers and one of the bars of chocolate. “A small is the perfect combination of crunchy and fluff.” You snapped the Graham Cracker in half before repeating the process with the chocolate and placing it on the graham cracker. “We'll put it all together as soon as your marshmallow is done.”

Choso expertly continued to toast the marshmallow until it was golden brown. When you noticed the perfect color, you helped him pull the marshmallow away from the heat so you could finish constructing your treat. You carefully held the chocolate and graham cracker beneath the marshmallow before you smashed it down together with the other half of the graham cracker, pulling the marshmallow off of the stick.

Everything went so smoothly that Choso had to blink, processing what had just happened. Moments ago, you had held three foods together before putting them together into a sandwich. The curious look in his eyes had your heart fluttering with happiness as he tilted his head from one side to the other.

“Put three treats together, and you have yourself the perfect s’more.” you offered the treat to your boyfriend, who hesitantly took it, eyeing it carefully as though it was a new creature he had been assigned to study. “You can eat it, baby. I have plenty more where that came from, so we can make as many as we want.”

Taking a bite of s’more in his hand, you watched your boyfriend’s eyes widen with wonder. The silky smooth taste of the chocolate, combined with the crispy outer layer of the sugary soft marshmallow, perfectly between the two graham crackers. He hummed happily, swallowing the bite in his mouth before taking another bite. The sweet deliciousness flooded his mouth, allowing him to relax for the first time in weeks.

Watching the tension leave his shoulders left you grinning before you began roasting your marshmallow over the open flames of the bonfire. “Do you like it?”

“Mhmm!” his eyes twinkle with excitement. “It's crunchy, yet soft at the same time. Plus, it’s very sweet.”

“Yeah, they are tasty.” The warm hue of orange flames reflected off your face, making you look somehow prettier than you already were. “Sometimes all you need is a box of graham crackers, a bottle of chocolate, and some marshmallows to take the time to enjoy life. It’s the simple things that make it worth living.”

Choso focused on the treat in his hands before his dark eyes flicked back toward you, watching as you blew out flames on your marshmallow, which was a little crispier than his. His flushed a soft pink as he watched you construct your own s’more. Once it was stacked, you gently tapped your s’more with his own before taking a bite.

As a string of sugary marshmallows dragged along your bottom lip before you could lick it off, Choso reached out, swiping it up with his thumb before bringing it to his mouth to lick the remains off of it. “S’mores are pretty tasty. But I think being with you is the only thing I need to have to relax.” you inhaled sharply as Choso gently pressed his lips against yours in a chaste kiss before taking another bite of his s’more, an almost happy, child-like joy glottered in his eyes.

It truly was the simple things in life that made it worth living. Watching your boyfriend, he finished his treat before following the steps you had shown him to make another. Seeing him so happy made your heart swell with happiness. This was exactly how you wanted the night to turn out. Tasty treats and a smile on Choso’s face.

Life was good, and all you needed was a few s’mores to make a memory that would last a lifetime.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

Summer Fest Tag List:

@typicalife-101

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Happy Birthday - Floyd Leech

In celebration of Floyd’s (and Jade's) birthday, here is a list of the things I've written with him. 🥳

Onesie Party - All NRC Students. FlufF; GN Reader.

5 Love Languages - All NRC Students; FluFf; List.

First Date - Octavinelle - (Azul; Jade & Floyd ) Fluf; GN Reader; Flirting; Kissing

Sending Love - Part 1 - Heartslabyul (Riddle, Ace; Deuce; Cater; Trey); Savanaclaw (Leona; Jack; Ruggie) & Octavinelle (Azul; Jade; Floyd) Fluff; GN Reader; Bullet Points

Yuu Needs a Hug 1 - Heartslabyul (Riddle, Ace; Deuce; Cater; Trey); Savanaclaw (Leona; Jack; Ruggie) & Octavinelle (Azul; Jade; Floyd) Fluff; GN Reader; Comfort; Bullet Points; In a Relationship

Pocky Game - All NRC students (except Ortho) Fluff; GN Reader; Bullet Points; Kissing; suggestive?

A Break Under The Lights - Port Fest Steering Committee (Floyd, Ruggie, Rook & Jack) Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kissing.

But… We Lost…- Basketball Club (Ace, Floyd & Jamil) Fluff; GN Reader, Kiss, Comfort

Meaningful Kiss 4 - (Cater, Trey, Floyd, Rook) Bullet Points; Fluff; GN Reader; Established Relationship, Kissing, Flirting, Slightly Suggestive

Sharing a Bed - Stitch’s Tropical Turbulence (Riddle; Ace; Jack; Azul; Floyd; Lilia) Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kiss; Beginning of Relationship

Yuutsum 1 - Twisted Tsumderland 1 Tsumsitters (Riddle; Cater; Leona; Jack; Floyd; Epel; Sebek) Fluff; GN Reader

REQUESTS

Rescuing You - Deuce; Jack; Floyd & Kalim () Fluff; GN Reader; Love Confessions

Cheering for Him - Basketball Club (Ace, Floyd & Jamil) Fluff; GN Reader; Established Relationship; Kissing

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[roosterforme]

Smut fest!! 🔥

Bradley, spread your legs wider, guided masterbation 🥵

Let's take another glimpse into the future with Roo and Baby Girl...

I combined these similar requests. @katastrophenkind

Written for my Smutsational Smutfest!

Bradley, Bradley, Bradleybradleybradley

Bradley had been waiting two weeks for a chance to Facetime with you, and now he was almost vibrating with excitement as the call connected. 

"Roo!" you exclaimed, and it felt so good to see your face. You were wearing his shirt and your glasses, and you were all cuddled up in bed.

"Baby Girl, I'm sorry it's so late there."

"You don't have to apologize, Roo," you said, biting your lip before continuing. "Actually, you can probably help me out." You must have propped your phone up on the bed, because he could see both of your hands now.

"With what?" he asked, and then Bradley was treated to the sight of you pulling the shirt over your head and tossing it aside. "Oh, hell yes, Sweetheart. What can I do to help?"

You were giggling softly as you let your fingers trail down your neck to your tits, and Bradley was leaning closer to the screen now. He glanced from side to side at the other officers on calls in the cubbies next to him, but he was having a hard time caring about anything other than you.

"Why don't you tell me what you'd like to see?" you asked quietly, like you knew how close he was sitting to the others. 

He nodded and looked at your hands on your breasts. "Lower," he commanded, and just like a good girl, you moved your hands down toward your belly button. When you spread your legs and showed him your pussy, Bradley had to bite down on his knuckle. Your tattoo was on display as well, and that really got his heart pounding. 

"Wider. Spread your legs wider." And sure enough, you spread your thighs far apart, looking him in the eyes for his next set of demands. 

"Touch yourself," he said quietly, really starting to stir in his uniform pants now. 

"You keep your dirty talk quiet, Roo. Somebody might hear you," you said with a playful smile, but sure enough, you started stroking your clit. And then your head tipped back. Bradley could tell how wet you were over the video call, and that fact had him nearly panting for you. 

"Inside," he growled. You dipped first your middle finger into your pussy, and then you added your index finger as well. A gasp escaped your lips, and it was Bradley's favorite sound in the world. 

"I miss you, Roo," you moaned softly. 

He ran his palm over his hard length, doing another quick scan of the vicinity before telling you, "Faster." You fucked yourself with your fingers just the way Bradley like to do it. When he saw you bending your fingers inside yourself, your tits bouncing beautifully, he thought he might cum in his pants. 

"You're so fucking pretty," he grunted. "Gorgeous, Baby Girl." He was mesmerized, occasionally muttering another command as you went to town on your sweet pussy. "Now say my name."

"Bradley, Bradley, Bradleybradleybradley. I'm cumming!" you screeched, and Bradley couldn't have turned the volume down on the ipad fast enough if he tried. But, fuck it, this was too good. Your back was arching and your nipples were hard, and your body was on display for him and his throbbing cock. 

You moaned his name a few times, and he gaped at you while you sucked on your fingers, licking yourself clean. Your half lidded eyes fluttered closed briefly before you were looking at him again.

"I miss you, Roo," you whispered. 

"I love you. When I get home in three weeks, we aren't leaving our bed for a full day. I'll have the event catered if needed, but you are staying in that bed with me."

You nodded and giggled, and before the call cut off, Bradley promised he was going to head back to his bunk and think about you while he jerked off.