#his fucking brains out bc he can’t stick his fingers down his throat here but my god he wants to

[kendallroygf]

i once read something that described kendall as taking up maximum space at the dinner table, scoffing everything down and even picking at the food stuck between his teeth at the end . and it’s like. what a wild misunderstanding of the character. he’s constantly wilting, has literally never finished his plate and it’s actually. odd how absent he is at every dinner table , constant dissociation that’s framed as normal as everybody chats around him

[cinnaminsvga]

Hug-o-gram | Yoongi

→ summary: 

“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font. 

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious. 

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

{or alternatively: Seokjin is a terrible wingman. He also runs a profitable business by sending hugs to people’s crushes for a fee. Mix them together and you have a recipe for Min Yoongi’s worst nightmare.}

→ genre: college!au, hugging booth!au, fluff, humor → warnings: yoongi is so smitten that he’s a walking disaster, so much shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to scream, seokjin just tryna get his homie some y/n love coochie bro ;o; → words: 13.3K → a/n: another commission by the lovely @jincherie​ because she’s epic like that!! she literally just told me to write whatever the hell i wanted and well... yoobie got me Good... anyway here’s more yoongi fluff bc apparently i’m a fluff writer now and sometimes i just want my boy to be happy... appa yip yip

Kim Seokjin makes a lot of good decisions. He also makes plenty of bad ones, but he likes to think the score is lying heavily towards the positives. Min Yoongi will be the first one to quickly disagree, but Seokjin doesn’t let it get to him. He doesn’t make it his business to listen to opinions that don’t immediately align with his, anyway; he likes to call it “selective hearing.” Yoongi calls it stupidity. Either way, the point still stands: Seokjin knows a good idea when he sees one. Case in point:

“This automatic popcorn machine is absolutely divine,” Seokjin moans, his mouth agape as he waits for the Mister Popcorn Robot to bestow him with another morsel of goodness.

“Yeah,” is Yoongi’s verbose reply. He also has his mouth agape, his prone body lying side by side with his roommate of four years in their small living room. Their roomba (another one of Seokjin’s good ideas) cleans all around them, its steady whirring serving as their only source of background music. “Lowkey though, I think our position isn’t quite… as optimized as it could be.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin asks, as he drapes his leg over Yoongi’s. His movement jostles the surrounding popcorn halo around them, as most of the food had missed their mouths by a couple of centimeters. At this point, the roomba has probably eaten more of the popcorn than the two of them combined.

“Nothing,” Yoongi shrugs, or whatever might be the lying down equivalent of a shrug. Some of the popcorn on his chest falls down, only to be quickly devoured by roomba-chi. Yoongi stares at the ceiling, tracing shapes out of the cracks that Seokjin had accidentally made when he tried using a pogo stick indoors. He points up, catching Seokjin’s attention. “Hey, hyung. Doesn’t that look a bit like Y/N?”

Seokjin squints. “You mean the mysterious brown stain near the lights? I think the toilet from the elderly couple upstairs might have leaked that.”

“No, you dipshit. The squiggly curve over there. It reminds me of her smile.” Yoongi says. There’s a stupid dopey grin on his face and Seokjin wants nothing more than to wipe it off.

��Jesus fucking Christ.” Seokjin groans, turning over to envelop Yoongi in a sweaty half-armed hug. The buttery residue on his arms and stomach leaves something to be desired, but Yoongi doesn’t scoot away. He only continues to sigh dreamily, staring mindlessly at the image of you that only his lovelorn brain can imagine.

Seokjin slaps Yoongi in the face. “Dude, get a fucking grip,” he grouses, giving Yoongi a serious look. The younger doesn’t break out of his trance, further irritating him. “Will you stop pining in front of my popcorn? It’s seriously making roomba-chi lose her appetite!”

To his credit, roomba-chi did seem to be slowing down, though that could also be because it had overloaded with popcorn and was seconds away from exploding. Wouldn’t be the first time, but Seokjin always managed to find a way to save roomba-chi from imminent death. She was like a daughter to him.

“Hyung, you know I can’t. I just… God, I really like her, you know?”

“That’s the third time you said that within the last hour. Believe me, I know.” Seokjin groans, shoving Yoongi away. He sits up, reaching over to the popcorn machine and switching it off. He grabs a fistful of fallen popcorn from the ground and shoves it inside Yoongi’s mouth. “There. That should shut you up.”

“Aw weawwy wike hew, hwung.”

“And yet, you still haven’t done anything after four years,” Seokjin tuts, finally standing up. He stretches his limbs, his joints creaking youthfully. He grabs his phone from the coffee table, nearly dropping it from the butteriness of his fingers. The clock reads 4:32 PM, which means–

“Yoongi, it’s time for me to head to work. You want to come with me today?” Seokjin asks, though he knows what answer he’s going to get. You see, Seokjin’s new booming business is another one of his fantastic ideas, but it is a little... inventive. Sure, Yoongi had scoffed when he had originally suggested the idea, but Seokjin knew that it was going to be a money-maker. Sure, it had taken a few years for the business to really take off, but once it finally did…

Enter Kim Seokjin’s Hug-o-gram Service! Students from his university are able to send anonymous payments directly to him, with little notes attached for their crushes. Each love letter delivery comes with a hug from Seokjin himself, delivered straight to the person without them ever knowing who the hug came from. It was ingenious! It was lucrative! But most of all…

It allowed Seokjin to cause drama and have an excuse for it! Nothing could have been more perfect for a man like him.

“No thanks,” Yoongi snorts, rolling over to face him. He watches from the floor as Seokjin changes into a butter-less shirt, which also happens to have his own face printed on the front and back. His trusty cardboard sign that reads “I’m Gonna Glomp Ya!” also joins his attire for the afternoon, a long piece of string tied to its edges so that he can wear it around his neck. Throwing on a pair of white sneakers with the tags still attached, Seokjin is ready to tackle today’s list of would-be hug-ees.

“How do I look?” Seokjin asks, combing his hair with his fingers. It leaves an oily sheen, which he somehow makes it work.

“Ugly,” Yoongi says, like a liar.

“It’s okay, I understand. I can speak tsundere, so you don’t need to explain,” Seokjin snickers, nearly getting hit with a TV remote by Yoongi. He opens his phone again, swiping to his e-mail to see his list of hug deliveries for the day.

Seokjin gets around 10 requests a day, with around half of them coming from regular clients. He’s especially fond of this boy who has been sending hugs to his TA named Namjoon for almost a month now. He has no idea why this kid has so much disposable income, though seeing the blush on Namjoon’s face everyday makes Seokjin think that he would spend every last penny for him too. Namjoon had begged Seokjin for his secret admirer’s identity, but snitchin’ isn’t a part of his service, unfortunately.

As much as Seokjin wants to know who is crushing on who, his little business wouldn’t work as well as it did if anonymity wasn’t included in his package deal. It allows people to thirst in public without facing the repercussions, like getting a knee to the groin or a slap to the face. Not that Seokjin has ever been at the receiving end of that; everyone loves him! Like, have you seen him? He must have saved a civilization in the past with how devastatingly beautiful his forehead is.

“Why am I suddenly filled with the relentless urge to deck you right now?” Yoongi says, getting up to change into clean clothes as well. His black t-shirt unfortunately does not have Seokjin’s face on it, but that can quickly be amended if the elder of the two decides to follow his every intrusive whim.

Seokjin laughs, completely unaware of the murderous capabilities of his friend. Due to his smaller body size, his percentage of evil is unusually concentrated. “Maybe it’s because you know that I’m into pain pla–” but Seokjin’s retort suddenly grinds to a halt. He chokes mid-sentence, coughing wildly as he pounds his chest with a balled-up fist. When Yoongi looks up at him, he finds his hyung staring slack-jawed at his phone, seemingly flabbergasted by what he finds on his screen.

“What’s the matter? Accidentally sent a dick pic to your prof again?” Yoongi snorts.

“That was one time! And no, it’s…” Seokjin trails off, uncharacteristically hesitant. He shifts his gaze from his phone to Yoongi, a drop of sweat quickly forming on the back of his neck. Yoongi raises a brow, silently urging him to continue.

Instead of replying, Seokjin hands him his phone. Yoongi finds a copy of one of Seokjin’s newest hug requests, only having just received it five minutes ago. As he scrolls down, he finds that this secret admirer is a new client, but that isn’t what made Seokjin stop in his tracks. Instead, it’s the recipient of the hug that catches his attention–

“Y/N has a secret admirer?” Yoongi says, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, trying his best to school his face into something less… jealous. He swivels away from Seokjin, forcing himself to breathe slowly through his nose. He convinces himself that he is the very epitome of calmness.

“You okay there, Yoongi? You look like you’re about to vomit,” Seokjin says, immediately breaking his inner peace. Yoongi groans loudly, shucking the phone over his shoulder, uncaring of where it lands. Seokjin, with his superhuman and God-given reflexes… doesn’t catch it. But he did dive to the floor like a seasoned Olympian, and his ass cushioned his phone so he supposes that’s a win.

Back to the matter at hand––

“I am fine,” Yoongi says, as he continues to not be fine.

From the floor, Seokjin shoots him a disbelieving look. He lies down more comfortably, propping his head on his elbows. Screw his hug-o-gram appointments for now; nothing brings him more joy than seeing Yoongi absolutely losing it. “Really? So you wouldn’t mind if I marched up to Y/N right now and give her the warmest, coziest, most tender hug of her fucking life?”

“Y… Yes,” Yoongi squeaks, neck glowing a furious red. He has his fists clenched (adorably) by his sides, head bowed as he faces the wall of their apartment. Seokjin’s brain makes the unhelpful comparison of Yoongi with that cat meme who says “no talk me angy” in Impact font.

Seokjin grins, his wickedness from within coiling and yearning to burst from his seams. This is it! Maybe if he pushes a little more, then maybe Yoongi will stop pining like a pathetic loser! Also, it didn’t hurt that he got to push Yoongi’s buttons while he’s at it, but hey! Not all heroes go to heaven or whatever.

He grabs his phone from his ass, scrolling back to the e-mail. “So… You wouldn’t mind if I walk up to Y/N right now and tell her ‘Hey! I’ve had an embarrassingly long crush on you and when I heard about this hugging service… I couldn’t miss the chance to shoot my shot! If you’re single and ready to #mingle, then please meet me at the Corner Cafe at 2 PM tomorrow.’” Seokjin sing-songs, snickering loudly when he sees the absolute pain etched onto Yoongi’s face.

There is a pause, and Seokjin waits as Yoongi uses his tiny kitty brain to think of what to do. He can only imagine what’s going inside his head, but he has a guess. Yoongi could either: 1) finally admit his feelings for you and come clean before Seokjin has to deliver your hug, or 2) do something stupid and counterproductive.

It comes as no surprise when Yoongi goes with option number––

“Hyung, let me come with you to work today,” Yoongi decides, walking over Seokjin’s prone body to their shoe rack. He slides into a pair of sneakers, his harried movements unusual for his customary lethargicness. He grabs a coat from its hanger, stomping his feet to get Seokjin to move faster. “C’mon! We have hugs to deliver.”

“Woah woah woah! Slow down there, Simpimus Prime.” Seokjin gets back up to his feet, skipping over to him. An absolutely feral grin is stretched upon his face. “Am I hearing what you’re saying? Are you offering… to deliver hugs with yours truly? Are you finally going to take up my offer to be an employee at Kim Seokjin’s Hug-o-gram Service?”

“Of course not,” Yoongi scoffs, but his shifting eyes betray him. He fidgets in place, refusing to return Seokjin’s eager gaze. “I just… wanted to go out for once. Yeah.”

“Yoongi.”

“What?”

“You haven’t left this apartment other than to go to class in over a month. You never go out. You’re an indoor cat!”

“I’m not a fucking cat,” Yoongi hisses, like a cat. “And of course I go out! There was that one time I went outside to pick up our food delivery last week.”

Judging from Seokjin’s unimpressed stare, Yoongi’s excuse doesn’t cut it. Yoongi flaps his arms around, defeated. “Okay, fine! I rarely go out! Screw me and the bounteous crapload of assignments I have due! It’s not my fault I don’t have the time to socialize and have fun. What do you want from me?”

What Seokjin wants is to push a confession out of Yoongi, not because he needs the confirmation, but mostly because he just wants to annoy Yoongi and say “I told you so!” He’s also pretty cute when he’s all blushy and tsundere whenever he talks about you. Should he film him and sell the footage on eboys.bb? He’s certain that goth boy over here would make a pretty penny.

“You like krabby patties, don’t you Squidward?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Yoongi sniffs, nose upturned. He opens the door, not looking behind him to see Seokjin’s triumphant expression. “C’mon. Y/N’s last class of the day ends in a few minutes and we might catch her before she leaves the Science Building.”

Seokjin snorts. He is quick to slip his own coat on and he follows soon after. He locks their door shut, hopping over to Yoongi and matching his shorter-legged pace. “Yeah. Because you totally just know her schedule at the top of your head. You know, like a normal person.”

Yoongi ignores him. He trudges on, each step filled with determination as they make their way to Seokjin’s beat-up truck. Seokjin skips alongside him, observing the younger boy and placing bets inside his mind. The drive to campus isn’t that long as it only takes around 10 minutes to get there, but Seokjin guesses that Yoongi’s defenses will begin to chip away only 3 minutes into the drive.

He’ll start to realize the gravity of the situation, the cogs in his smooth and slushy excuse of a brain slowly comprehend what he’s about to witness. He’ll first think about how 1) he’s going to see you and that never helps his poor dainty grandpa heart and 2) he’s going to see you hugging Seokjin as he reads to you the short love confession from your anonymous Romeo. Seokjin bets that after 8 minutes, Yoongi will start to break out into a sweat, leaving gross perspiration marks on his good car seat leather.

After exactly 7 minutes and 34 seconds (Seokjin was keeping track of the time on his dashboard), Yoongi’s face turns an unflattering shade of green. “Dude. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Yoongi had originally offered to drive the two of them to campus, but Seokjin had the good foresight to refuse. Had Yoongi been the one on the wheel, he would’ve brought them back home in an instant due to nerves. So instead, Seokjin speeds up, ignoring Yoongi’s soft whimpers of defeat.

“Too bad, but there is no turning back now. I have six deliveries today and I am not putting my livelihood on the line just because your balls have magically shrunk in size,” Seokjin snickers. He glances at Yoongi from the corner of his eye and feels the slightest touch of pity for the pathetic fool beside him. “But if it really makes you want to shit yourself from anxiety, we could save Y/N for last. Though, on second thought… That could also prolong your misery, which I will always be up for.”

“God, shut up,” Yoongi groans, slamming his head on the dashboard. Seokjin continues undeterred as he pulls into the campus parking lot, waiting for his friend to make up his damn mind for once in his life. He supposes that he is being a little harsh on Yoongi, but there are only so many sad love songs he can listen to without going completely insane.

Aren’t you tired of being nice? The demon on his shoulder cajoles, shoving the corpse of his angel counterpart somewhere down a ditch. Don’t you just want to go apeshit?

And who is Seokjin to deny his impulsive needs anyway?

“No, let’s… just get this over with,” Yoongi decides, head still smushed against his dashboard. He doesn’t make any move to get out of the car, not even when Seokjin shuts off the engine and makes a show of “leaving” Yoongi behind.

“Okay, lover boy. You have ten seconds to get your butt into high gear before I’m leaving you behind. And you should know that I’m not above playing dirty and giving Y/N the sweetest fucking hug of her life that will make her forget anyone else exists in this world, so you better start moving before I–”

Like lightning, Yoongi scrambles out of the car faster than if it had caught on fire (and Seokjin’s car has exploded before and Yoongi certainly did not seem as bothered to escape than he does right now.) He nearly trips over himself in his haste, getting caught by the car door and nearly receiving a concrete facial to boot. He straightens up with as much dignity as he can muster (which he doesn’t have very much of, if at all.) Seokjin is kind enough not to mention anything, but the shit-eating grin on his face is enough to make Yoongi bristle.

They exit the parking lot, looking to the world like the sun and moon had turned human for the day. Min Yoongi, with his all-black attire and gaunt appearance, is heavily juxtaposed with the man who appears to have been vomited on by a rainbow. They walk side-by-side together, accustomed to the stares that often come their way when they go out in public.

“I just can’t believe we’re doing this,” Yoongi moans for the umpteenth time, his movements stilted like a robot. His footsteps look heavily disjointed like his knees were beginning to rust. His arms swing like a pendulum, adding to the unnaturalness of his motions. Basically, he looks like a fucking idiot.

“Who are you calling an idiot?” Yoongi snaps. Seokjin startles a bit, realizing belatedly that he’d said that out loud. Not that he cares. Yoongi continues, “I’m not the one wearing a fucking cardboard sign that looks like a toddler made it with macaroni and glitter!”

“Hey, Taehyung told me it looked good,” Seokjin sniffs, fingering the macaroni pieces dejectedly. “I don’t need to hear an opinion from a Music major.”

“Shut up, Business major. No one likes you fucking snakes,” Yoongi retorts, crossing his arms. “Your definition of fun is going on LinkedIn and using Excel sheets.”

Distracted by their own quarrel, neither of them notice the sound of the large clock in the middle of campus that chimes every hour, signaling that it was already 5 PM. A few minutes later, hoards of students begin to leave university for the day, the walkways beginning to fill with people as they head home. Amidst the chattering and bustling of everyone trying to get out of the crowd, it is hard to notice that you are also one of the hundreds of people finishing your last class of the day.

But Yoongi notices, as he always does. Call it Y/N intuition, or whatever. “There,” Yoongi points you out over dozens of heads. Seokjin can hardly spot you, but he trusts Yoongi’s weird Y/N-dar to find you without fail. People have begun to notice the two of them, most of whom were whispering excitedly when they notice that Seokjin is in his work attire.

“Oh my god, someone’s getting a hug-o-gram! I wonder who…”

“Have you ever ordered one? I got one for my current girlfriend last month and that’s how we got together.”

“I’ve always wanted to send one, but the prices are insane! Fuck them business students and their capitalist ways.”

“Screw sending a hug to someone else! I wanna order a hug for me. Kim Seokjin is a hot piece of ass.”

(Yoongi swears the last comment had sounded eerily like Seokjin himself, but the older boy’s mouth hadn’t moved in the last minute.)

“Alright, Yoongi. Here’s the plan,” Seokjin leans closer to Yoongi, stage whispering into his ear. Everyone within a six-foot radius is eagerly eavesdropping, not even bothering to pretend that they aren’t. It’s common knowledge that Seokjin basks in their attention, anyway. Yoongi rolls his eyes, urging him to get it over with.

“Y/N is over there, right? Well, I have to send a hug to this guy named Mark Lee too, who just so happens to be over there,” Seokjin points behind them, in the opposite direction of where Y/N was heading, “so here’s my proposition. You go over to Y/N and deliver the hug for me, while I go catch up to Mark so that we can kill one bird with two stones!”

“Excuse me?” Yoongi wheezes, pushing Seokjin away from him. His eyes bug out. “Are you insane? I am not doing that. And the phrase is ‘killing two birds with one stone,’ you fucking idiot.”

“Same shit, Shakespeare! Who cares about numbers!” Seokjin exclaims, exasperated. “Listen, would you rather you hug Mark and I hug Y/N?”

“I would much rather prefer that I stick my whole fist up your anus,” Yoongi seethes.

“Interesting proposition, but maybe for a later time,” Seokjin says, not missing a beat. “Listen, dude. The longer we prolong this little bitchfest you have going on, the farther away Y/N is gonna get. You know I will stop at nothing to deliver her hug anyway, so would you rather you miss your chance right now when I am so magnanimously offering you a shot at getting closer to your crush?”

Even though Yoongi feels like his insides were slowly turning into mashed potatoes, he knows that he had already made a decision long before they left the house. Seokjin is right; this is a good opportunity for him, whether he is willing to admit it out loud. Perhaps it is just because it is Seokjin of all people who is egging him on that preprogrammed him into thinking that this was a bad idea. In all seriousness, it was just a hug, nothing fancy. It isn’t like Yoongi was going to have to kiss you––

(His heart contracts and Yoongi wonders if he’s having a stroke. The thought of your soft lips connecting with his is enough to cause the wind to knock out of his chest. God, Yoongi is so screwed.)

“Why must I always feel as though I am a snail and God is personally salting me,” Yoongi groans, stepping away from Seokjin and heading your way. Behind him, Seokjin hollers in what he assumes is friendly support, but it only further antagonizes Yoongi. The absolute buffoon waves enthusiastically from behind him, a beaming grin almost ready to split his face in two. Yoongi flips him off without looking back.

God fucking dammit. The closer that Yoongi is to approaching you, the stronger the urge to just evaporate like ice cream on hot concrete becomes. He can feel himself perspiring from every corner of his body and he just hopes that his black attire will do well to mask the slimy creature that he is underneath his clothing.

This is all Seokjin’s fault, Yoongi reminds himself. If he hadn’t started this stupid hugging service in the first place, then no one would have ordered a hug for you in the first place. Then Yoongi wouldn’t have to be in this stupid predicament either!

But you could’ve ordered a hug for her if you wanted to, says the annoying part of his brain – the same part that’s always been a little bit too hopeful for Yoongi’s liking. The whispers continue, And she wouldn’t even know it would be you! But more importantly…

“Seokjin wouldn’t know either,” Yoongi huffs irritably because he knows it’s true. The biggest thing stopping him from ever making a move on you, other than his debilitating fear of rejection and heartbreak, is the fact that he’d rather explode into spores than for Seokjin to find out that he’d used his “genius” business idea to get the girl of his dreams.

He’s afraid that one day, Seokjin would magically develop telepathic powers (a fear that Yoongi feels that the majority of the human population should also share) and find out that Yoongi doesn’t actually think his hug-o-gram service is dumb. It’s actually really cute, and Yoongi hates to admit that the success rate of his service is nearly perfect in terms of getting couples together.

But Yoongi is a strong (read: stubborn) man; he’d rather drop dead than allow Seokjin the satisfaction of seeing his business work out for his seemingly hopeless case. Which brings him to the present–

You’re standing by the entrance of the Sciences building. You are dressed nicely as always; Yoongi doesn’t think he’s ever seen you in anything remotely slobby, not even a pair of sweats like any regular uni student. You always look a little bit business proper: the epitome of someone who should be on the student council.

You’re speaking to someone, a younger male student by the looks of it. The hairs on Yoongi’s neck stand at attention and, God forbid, did he just fucking growl? Did he make that sound? By the looks of the students carefully navigating their way around him, Yoongi surmises that he did make that sound. Geez, is he some sort of animal? Is he going to turn into those feral stan accounts on Twitter that salivate over their K-pop boys like it’s their job? He hopes not.

But what if that’s the kid who sent the hug–

Yoongi shuts up his brain before he can let it finish. No, he can’t let himself go down that path. It’ll only cause him to self-combust right then and there, and he isn’t exactly keen on letting you see his entrails anytime soon. That would be the least cool thing to do, he decides. And so, with his brain turned off, he walks over to you, arms swinging robotically by his sides as he forces himself closer.

“Oh thank you so much, Y/N! You’ve been a real help to our club, you know?” The boy (Yoongi can’t believe they’re letting toddlers into university these days!) says, his eyes glittering with an ambition that still hasn’t been killed by the all-consuming dread that comes with university.

You laugh lightly, the sound causing butterflies to flutter excitedly in Yoongi’s chest. “No worries, Soobin. I’m glad I could be of help. If the editorial board needs any more help, don’t be shy to shoot me a message, alright?”

Soobin nods enthusiastically, his head bobbing up and down so quickly that Yoongi was afraid his neck would snap. “No worries, Y/N! Have a good rest of your week!” He waves a cheery goodbye, springing away with his numerous anime keychains on his backpack jingling softly in his wake.

“What a cute kid,” you sigh. You look incredibly fond, and Yoongi hates the bitter coil swimming in the pit of his stomach. That feeling soon fizzles out when you finally turn to face Yoongi. Your eyebrows shoot up, but your expression quickly morphs into one of pleasant surprise. Yoongi’s heart stops for just a moment, feet turning cold. “Yoongi! Oh my goodness, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen you! How’s it going?”

Let’s play a game, shall we? How many of Yoongi’s nervous ticks can you spot within the next five minutes? Think of this as the easiest game of Where’s Waldo ever!

“Hnng,” Yoongi stammers, his hand immediately going to scratch the back of his neck. His cheeks pinken, pupils shaking in every different direction as they try to focus on anything but you. It always feels like he’s standing way too close to the sun when he’s around you, hardly able to keep his gaze focused on you. He chooses to stare resolutely at your chin, but even your fucking chin was impossibly cute.

Seriously? Yoongi is a walking shitshow! His inner voice comes back, but this time it sounds uncannily like his roommate. Come on, buddy. Just say hi… You know, like a normal person. “H… Hey, Y/N.”

Success count: 1 point for the Yogurt Machine!

Even though Yoongi felt like he was living his worst nightmare, you still looked every bit like his favorite daydream. You are all smiles, seemingly unperturbed by Yoongi’s slow, embarrassing demise. “It’s so good to see you! Midterms haven’t been too hard on you, I hope?”

“I’ve been better,” he says. Better now that you’re here, he leaves unsaid. God, can you imagine if he said that out loud?

Your mouth drops open, soft cherry blossoms blooming across your cheeks. “Um, what did you say?” you squeak, embarrassed. But certainly not as embarrassed as the boy in front of you.

Yoongi stops breathing. He did not say that aloud, had he? Judging by the awkward silence stretching between the two of you, the signs are pointing to: yes. Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygo–– “Er, what I mean to say is,” Yoongi stutters through his sentence, his entire body flushing fire engine red like it’s nobody’s business. He must look like Satan’s spanked ass right now. “I… I’m here to deliver a hug!”

Confusion quickly replaces the shock on your face. You tilt your head, brows scrunching up cutely. “A hug?” you ask.

“R-right,” Yoongi says, waving his arms around because he has nothing else better to do. He gestures vaguely in the opposite direction, where Seokjin had left to find his other clients. “I’m, uhh… Helping my roommate. Have you heard of Seokjin’s hug-o-gram service?”

“Oh, yeah!” You hop excitedly in place, looking to all the world like the cutest thing in the universe. Yoongi thinks you should be classified as a public hazard, what with how you’re somehow able to give him diabetes just from standing next to him. “I totally heard about that! I’ve always wanted to send a hug, but I’ve always been a little shy.”

That piques Yoongi’s interest immediately. You wanted to send a hug? But to who? He unconsciously clenches his jaw, and he can feel a vein pop up near his neck. He forces himself to smile, but he knows it probably looks more like a grimace. “Oh really? That’s… I didn’t know you had a crush on somebody.”

Yoongi is too busy wallowing in his own self-pity puddle that he misses the way you gaze shyly up at him through your eyelashes, your hands clasped behind your back. “Y-yea… I don’t really go around telling it to just anybody,” you shrug as nonchalantly as you can. You clear your throat. “So, are you here to deliver a hug or something?”

Nothing gets past you, huh? Yoongi swallows thickly as he twiddles his thumbs. He still can’t bear to look at you head-on, afraid that his emotions would be too obvious if he did. (Who is he kidding… He knows he’s fucking obvious, and yet you never seem to get the picture!) “Yea, I am. I’m here to deliver one to you, actually.”

He doesn’t get to see your reaction, but he does notice the way your entire body stiffens. His mind immediately starts to run a minute, trying to guess why you’d suddenly gone stock still.

Did you know who your secret admirer was already? Or perhaps, were you just thoroughly shocked to receive one at all? That can’t be it… You’re the campus sweetheart! Surely it’s much weirder that it has taken eons for you to get your first hug… Or perhaps, are you so disgusted by the thought of him delivering the hug? Oh my god, what if you didn’t want him to hug you? Shit, this entire thing is a terrible idea! How did Seokjin ever convince him to do this stupid shit and get his heartbroken in the process? He swears he’s going to shove ten firecrackers up his ass the next time he sees him––

“Um, Yoongi?” You’re staring worriedly at him, your hand semi-raised as if you were about to wave in front of him. Did you say something? He must look like a fucking prick to you! He shakes his head, trying desperately to get his mind back into his body. Why must he be cursed with inner monologue disease? What is he, some sort of shoujo manga male protagonist?

“Sorry about that. I’ve been a little spacey these days,” he laughs, but even he can hear the panic laced in his voice. He sounds just on the edge of being hysterical. “Ahaha… What were you saying?”

“I was just… shocked?” You giggle softly, making Yoongi cry internally. You smirk, mischief glittering in your eyes. “I just never imagined you’d be the type to… I don’t know…”

“Willingly hug people for the sake of capitalism? I feel you,” Yoongi snorts, forgetting for a moment who he’s talking to. “Believe me, I’d rather drop dead than allow Seokjin to use me for his stupid business venture.”

“Then why are you delivering a hug to me now?” you ask, still smiling.

“Hnng,” Yoongi’s tongue feels like it’s grown two sizes all of a sudden. He wheezes, choking on his own spit as he’s caught off guard by your question. “W-well, I––”

“Just being a good friend, I’m guessing?” You’re full-on giggling now, barely trying to hide your mirth behind your hands. Yoongi understands now; you’re teasing him. He hates how amused you are by his awkwardness, but he loves the way your entire expression lights up, like you’re enjoying yourself by being with him.

“Let’s go with that,” Yoongi mumbles, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. He has his head bowed, hoping that his unruly fringe can finally come in handy and hide the disastrous blush encompassing his face. “Right… I’ll just, umm…”

“Am I getting my hug today, or am I gonna have to take a rain check?” You laugh, slapping his shoulder in an attempt to help him shake off the awkward tension. It has the opposite intended effect, as Yoongi’s breath hitches imperceptibly at your proximity. You had taken a step closer, and Yoongi could smell the sweet perfume you always seemed to be wearing. Please don’t pop a boner right now. That would be super fucking creepy.

“You’re…” Yoongi hesitates, arms uselessly immobile by his sides. He doesn’t know if he can even get them to move at this point, as he has lost all motor skills the moment you had focused all your attention on him. It’s a miracle that his heart remembers to beat every so often. “I’m just… I’m just gonna go for it, okay?”

You nod, hands tucked neatly behind your back. “No need to be scared, Yoongi. I don’t bite,” you joke.

God, if you only knew about the dreams I’ve had of you. Yoongi hopes to all the deities from up above that he had not said that aloud, but you don’t seem to be disgusted, so he can only assume that his traitorous brain had disconnected with his mouth for the time being.

He shuffles closer to you, the warmth of your body closing in as he makes the grueling effort to lift his arms up to gently wrap themselves around you, but before he can even fully hug you––

You’re quick to reciprocate. With a small laugh, you wrap your own arms around his torso, nuzzling into his chest with more force than Yoongi was expecting. He lets out a soft wheeze, mouth dropping open when he is assaulted by the smell of your fruity shampoo. His hands hover awkwardly above you, still unsure of where it’s okay to touch you without weirding you out.

You tilt your face up, eyes crinkling cutely by the sheer force of your grin. Both of your faces are only centimeters away from each other, and Yoongi could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired. His breathing stills as he becomes positively mesmerized by the beautiful sight in front of him. He doesn’t even hear the sound of phone camera shutters around him, as he is much too deeply focused on nothing but you, you, you.

“Hey, don’t half-ass your hug! Gimme a good ol’ bear hug!” you whine, nudging his elbows gently to get them to move. Snapped out of his reverie, Yoongi mechanically does as you say, his head completely empty of thoughts. He wraps his arms tightly around your shoulders, his wrist knocking slightly against the back of your head until you’re back to snuggling deep into his chest.

“Your laundry detergent smells nice,” you say, slightly muffled by his shirt. Yoongi lets out a breathy laugh, mostly out of disbelief more than anything. He can’t even begin to process anything right now; he feels like he’s reverted back into a single-celled organism.

“Thanks?” Yoongi squeaks, but you don’t seem to mind his awkward attempts at being a Normal Person™️. You crane your neck upwards so that you’re looking him directly in the eye. There’s a twinkle of mischief there, like you’re enjoying Yoongi’s flushed face a little too much. He honestly feels like he’s seconds away from exploding into tiny bite-sized pieces, and he fears that if you snuggle deeper into his chest, he might just do exactly that.

“So… Are we just supposed to hug for another ten minutes, or am I allowed to let go?”

Yoongi doesn’t even realize how long it’s been. You could’ve been hugging him for ten hours and he wouldn’t have known. Yoongi jerks away from you, nearly vaulting himself across campus by how quickly he lets you go. Thankfully, you don’t appear offended––you were more amused than anything. Yoongi has no idea how red he is right now; he feels like he could be blowing steam out of his ears, astounding anatomists everywhere by his peculiar talent.

“I just have to–” Yoongi pats his back pockets for his phone, clumsily pulling it out and looking for his text messages, “–read this message from your, um, secret admirer and then we’ll be good to go.”

“Great.” You nod at him enthusiastically. “Whenever you’re ready, Yoonie.”

Yoongi’s breath hitches right then, caught off guard by the nickname. Only you ever called him that, and it never fails to make Yoongi’s insides feel like molten lava every time you say it. “I… Yeah, here goes,” Yoongi mutters, trying his best to remember how to speak.

He recites the message with as much enthusiasm as he can manage, which is to say, not very much. He could probably read the phonebook with more zeal, but it’s hard to give it his all when the words feel like acid in his throat. He’s unconsciously clenching his jaw as he speaks, looking like a constipated gorilla. “...so, if you’re single and ready to #mingle, then––” Yoongi stops mid-sentence, staring resolutely at his phone screen with a grimace.

You blink confusedly. “Then?”

“Then nothing,” Yoongi finishes, pocketing his phone without an inch of remorse. “I don’t know what was up with that message, but somehow the letter got cut short. Sorry about that.”

“Huh, strange.” You shrug your shoulders, not bothering to question him.

Yoongi fist bumps himself mentally, though other people might disagree and say that he doesn’t deserve any type of congratulations, to which Yoongi says a big “fuck you!” to those imaginary haters. In the wise words of Kim Seokjin himself, “not everyone is worthy to receive your fucks, so it’s time to stop giving them.” (Kim, 2020)

“Well, that was fun! Thanks for delivering the hug to me, Yoonie,” you pinch Yoongi’s cheek, giggling when they turn even redder. “I’ll see you around, I guess? Don’t let those midterms kill ya!” You wave cheerily at him, walking past him and heading towards the bus stops. Yoongi stands frozen in place, the events of the last few minutes finally catching up to him and frying his brain beyond repair.

Oh my god, he fucking hugged you! Like, a good and genuine hug! You felt so warm and so soft and you smelled really good and it was more than he could ever imagine and just––

Yoongi’s brain is trying (and failing) to desperately parse the delayed barrage of information as it comes, but it’s hard for the little hamster running circles in his head when it has never had to run a day in its life. Yoongi’s body feels like it’s overheating even though the weather is nearing the start of winter, but that’s all thanks to you and the devastating effect you have on him.

In short, Yoongi machine has broken, and any sort of maintenance is going to be hard to come by at the moment.

Yoongi could have been standing in front of the Science building for an entire year and he wouldn’t have budged until a tornado in the form of Kim Seokjin arrived to knock him out of his brain dead state. Whistling lowly, the elder stops in front of the rigid mass of meat, an eyebrow quirked in exasperation. “Dude, nice rigor mortis cosplay. Like, yes girl, give us nothing!” he exclaims, slapping Yoongi back to consciousness.

Yoongi blinks rapidly, dazed like he’s woken up from a dream. “What? What’s happening?” he replies dumbly.

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Yoongi. Did you finish delivering Y/N’s hug or what? I finished all my deliveries in the same time you had with Y/N, so I better hope to God you aren’t planning on applying to be an employee of mine, because you certainly have a long way to go before––”

“I hugged her,” Yoongi interrupts, eyes going glassy once more. His mouth is agape, and Seokjin can see a pool of saliva forming, ready to runneth over. He could see the rusted gears turning inside his dongsaeng’s head. “Oh my god, hyung. I fucking hugged her.”

“Yeah, and I hugged Taehyung Kim and felt his gigantic dick press into my stomach. You aren’t special,” Seokjin snorts, clasping Yoongi by the bicep. He drags him away, leading them to their parked car. “C’mon, Dampé. I’m tired and I wanna eat popcorn again.”

As they walk back to the parking lot, the campus roads are a lot less populated now that most students have gone home. Yoongi only then realizes how late it truly is and he vaguely wonders how long he had been stuck standing there before Seokjin had come to drag him back home. The sun has begun its daily descent, filling the courtyard with a warm glow and causing their shadows to grow longer as they trudge quietly to their car.

The campus is quiet enough that both of them hear the quiet buzz of Seokjin’s phone, despite him putting it on silent mode before he had gone on his hugging deliveries. He stops mid-step, causing Yoongi to bump his nose into his wide back. He yelps, shoving Seokjin forward in irritation.

“Why’d you fucking stop, you asshole?” Yoongi whines, his normal annoying personality resurfacing now that he’s begun to recover from your hug. He peers over Seokjin’s behemoth shoulders, squinting at his phone screen. “What? Another hug delivery?”

“Yeah. I’ll do it tomorrow since I think she’s gone home for the day,” Seokjin says, his tone sounding slightly too delighted for comfort. “In fact, I know she’s gone home already.”

Yoongi stills, changing his focus onto the elder’s expression. He looks… too eager to receive a simple hug-o-gram request. A shiver shoots through Yoongi’s spine when he realizes how nefariously bastardous Seokjin’s smile has grown, the tips of his smirk curling upwards like a villain from a classic Disney animation.

“What?” Yoongi glares acidly at Seokjin, but the elder is unaffected. In fact, he seems to grow more pleased the more aggravated Yoongi becomes. “Spit it out! What’s got your prostate tickled?”

“Oh, nothing,” Seokjin singsongs, shoving his phone down the front of his pants, exactly where he knows Yoongi would never touch. “Just got an interesting new regular customer, is all.”

“A new regular?” Yoongi’s pitch heightens, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling in alarm (like a cat.) “Is it… Another request for… You know who?”

“I wasn’t aware Voldemort went to our university,” Seokjin teases, thoroughly enjoying Yoongi’s distress. “Though, if you’re talking about Y/N, then the answer is not not not no.”

“Two double negatives.” Anyone could hear the audible soft rattling of his two brain cells exerting themselves as Yoongi deciphers his answer. “That means…”

Yoongi stares pointedly at Seokjin’s crotch, where the outline of his phone is glaringly obvious. “Show me,” Yoongi growls, not making a move to actually touch Seokjin’s nether regions.

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “No one’s stopping you from taking my phone though?”

“Hyung!”

“Buy me bubble tea first, then we’ll talk.”

“Fine,” Yoongi acquiesces, folding his arms in annoyance. “Just tell me. Is it really the same guy who requested the hug for Y/N today as well?”

Seokjin fiddles around for his phone, digging deeper when it nearly drops down the leg of his pants. When he pulls it out and swipes to his e-mails, he confirms Yoongi’s fear. “Yep. And it seems like he saw you deliver the hug today. Says that he’d prefer that I deliver the hug next time,” Seokjin smirks, enjoying the deep-set frown on Yoongi’s face.

When Seokjin takes a closer look at the order, however, he notices something a little off. “Hold on a sec,” he scrolls to the receipt, scowling when he sees the incorrect amount. “Well, you might be in luck, Yoongi-chi. Looks like loverboy sent the wrong payment. He’s a few dollars short.”

“What?” Yoongi says, for what feels like the tenth time in this entire fic. He grabs Seokjin’s phone, no longer repulsed by where it had been only a few minutes prior. Like Seokjin said, the customer had given the wrong amount, much to both their confusion.

“That’s weird, considering he just ordered a hug today,” Seokjin murmurs, shaking his head. “Oh well. Happens to the best of us. Guess I’ll just have to refund the poor sap.”

“Wait,” Yoongi presses the phone to his chest, preventing Seokjin from taking it. His hyung raises a brow.

“What is it?”

“What if I just… pay you the remaining amount? Then I can also deliver the hug to her and, uhh...” Yoongi mumbles the remaining part, but Seokjin has trained his ears to catch every whisper and mutter for moments just like this. He wouldn’t be where he is today if he didn’t perfect his eavesdropping skills to a spy’s degree. That’s right––Seokjin is a sloppy and nosey bitch and he’s not afraid to admit it!

“Oh? Do my ears deceive me?” Seokjin guffaws, pinching Yoongi’s cheeks for good measure. He hisses in response, but Seokjin isn’t afraid of some little kitten. Seokjin is a bigger bitch with a meaner bite. “Is my little Yoongi Woongi seriously offering to deliver another hug to Miss Y/N? How magnanimous of you.”

Yoongi stares at him, stunned for a moment. A few seconds pass before he shakes his head, faux disdain coloring his expression. “That’s right,” Yoongi huffs, detaching himself from Seokjin’s meaty claws. He keeps his gaze averted, like the big stupid tsundere that he is. “I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart! I care about your profits, and I want to make your workload a little lighter! Isn’t that what you want?”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Seokjin snickers, poking Yoongi in the tit. He swivels away, skipping merrily away to their parked car. “I’m expecting that cash in my Paypal by the time I get to the car, or else the deal is off. Make it snappy, loverboy!”

Yoongi had never transferred cash to someone so quickly in his life.

(Yes, not even when the food court on campus was doing a BOGO promo for churros. That’s the extent of how whipped his ass is, period.)

x x x x x

“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font.

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious.

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

“Listen, I’m seriously not forcing you to do this,” Seokjin starts, even though he’s giving his utmost effort to further embarrass Yoongi by handing out flyers about Hug-o-gram’s newest employee. “Please, take one!” he cajoles, offering a flyer to a gaggle of giggling freshmen. “Make sure to reserve a hug within the week! Yoongi-chi over here is on his way to becoming employee of the month if he gets ten requests by Friday!” They all point and whisper at Yoongi, and he swears he hears one of them wolf whistle in admiration.

“That’s what makes this entire thing terrible. I’m doing this on my own volition, and I absolutely abhor myself for it,” Yoongi moans, grabbing Seokjin’s stack of flyers and smacking himself in the head with them. It probably would’ve hurt more when Seokjin still had a full-stack, but people had swarmed them the moment they entered the heart of the campus, everyone curious to see Yoongi in his interesting attire.

Seokjin might have been famous for creating the Hug-o-gram Service, but Yoongi was famous for hating the business idea, so it’s easy to understand why everyone was interested. (For good reason, he thinks darkly to himself.)

“Damn, Yoongi-chi. Looks like you’re trending on the campus Reddit page,” Seokjin laughs, wheezing even harder when Yoongi points him with a murderous glare. “What? Like you said, this was all your idea.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t ask to wear… whatever this is!” Yoongi whines, tugging on the string around his neck. The cardboard sign had been ready and prepared the moment they arrived home the other day, arousing Yoongi’s suspicions on Seokjin’s actual involvement in his current predicament. Those suspicions are put in the backburner for now, however, as Yoongi actually feels like he might die of embarrassment instead of the packets of MSG coursing through his veins from the ten ramen packs he ate this morning. Maybe both will kill him, if he’s lucky.

“Well, I would love to lend you my uniform, but I haven’t gotten a t-shirt printed with your face on it yet, so you’ll have to deal with the kitten ears and cardboard sign for now,” Seokjin says, patting him on the back. “Or, would you rather I have you wear a shirt with my face on it? I’m open to suggestions.”

“I’d rather swallow a Tide pod, thanks,” Yoongi says through gritted teeth. “C’mon, let’s move. We’ve been standing in the middle of campus like street clowns for long enough. We need to find Y/N because her class is about to end.”

“Street clowns, huh? I guess you are only missing the make-up to complete the look, especially since you seem adamant to keep honking your way through that sickening crush of yours.” Seokjin nearly catches a punch to the head, but his superior reaction time saves him from Yoongi’s sorely lacking physicality. He snatches Yoongi by the hand, dragging them towards your lecture hall. “C’mon, clown! Let’s honk this bread!”

As the two of them get closer to where you are, Yoongi’s heartbeat begins to accelerate. He wonders idly if he should see a doctor after all this, hoping that he hadn’t actually contracted heart disease due to all this stress. Lord forbid that he meet his end before he even gets to ask you out or something!

Even though he’s already hugged you once (and it was, by far, the most euphoric experience of his sad, miserable life), he still finds himself getting clammy hands at the thought of seeing you again. Nevermind the fact that he looked like a walking circus with his get-up… No, Yoongi refuses to think about it anymore, lest his last remaining brain wrinkle irreversibly smoothens.

The campus clock rings loudly, signaling the end of another block of classes. Students rush out of the buildings, with you being one of the first ones out for a change. When Yoongi spots your head of hair among the crowd, he doesn’t immediately notice what you’re wearing at first. In fact, it’s Seokjin who stops in his tracks for a moment, surprised by how you look.

“Woah, Y/N! Looking good,” Seokjin greets, rushing past Yoongi to envelop you in a hug. (A platonic hug, Yoongi reminds himself. Because unlike Yoongi, Seokjin is a normal human being who can give hugs to anyone he wants because he’s… fucking Seokjin! Lucky bastard that he is.)

“Woah!” You laugh, surprised by the sudden hug. You pat him on the back giddily, allowing him to swing you around a little. “What’s this all about? Am I getting a hug-o-gram again?”

“Yes, you are. But not from me,” Seokjin detaches himself from you, scooting away to point at Yoongi. When Seokjin moves away, Yoongi finally understands why his hyung had said you looked good. No, that was an understatement––you looked [redacted].

(For the sake of the author’s fragile ash-coated heart, she has chosen to redact Yoongi’s exact words to protect herself from slamming her head against a keyboard from how cheesy this fic is becoming. Let’s just say the word starts with a B and ends with an L. Make of that as you will.)

You must have come out of an interview or presentation of sorts because you were dressed more nicely than you usually do, which is a pretty big deal considering how put together you always looked. Your hair is styled nicely, obviously given much more care and effort than your regular appearance. You’re wearing a cute little black dress, long enough to be professional but short enough to give Yoongi breathing problems.

If Yoongi’s brain had a playlist, it would be nothing but the sound of him going HNNNNNNNNNG on repeat.

“Oh geez.” Yoongi curses lowly, smiling through the pain. This is fine, he thinks, even though it is clearly not fine. Yoongi has always been a terrible liar.

“Yoongi?” You sound incredulous, though that’s honestly a win in Yoongi’s book considering everything. You didn’t look disgusted, so that’s great. “You look…” You stop yourself, covering your mouth to hide your grin but your amusement is palpable. At least he made you laugh, he supposes.

“Like a fucking idiot? You said it,” Yoongi snorts, arms crossed defiantly. He’s trying to look intimidating, but with his cheeks puffed up and these abominable kitten ears on his head, he looks more like a grumpy cat throwing a tantrum. He juts a thumb at Seokjin, “Thank this himbo for the outfit. I definitely would have chosen something more… inconspicuous.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” You quip, still trying to mask your giggles. On the other hand, Seokjin was wheezing like a hyena, his phone pulled out and presumably filming Yoongi to add to his cringe compilation.

“Exactly what I said!” Seokjin says through his laughter, tears of mirth streaming down his face. He walks back to Yoongi, pushing him forward until he’s face to face with you. “Go on, then! We haven’t got all day!”

“I’m assuming you’re officially part of Seokjin’s hug-o-gram business now?” you ask, opening your arms wide to accept his hug. Like the beta male that he is, Yoongi has to be the one to follow in your footsteps, meekly coming closer to wrap you in an embrace.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Yoongi mutters, tucking his chin onto your shoulder. He feels you vibrate with laughter, bringing a small smile on his own face. He likes making you laugh, always has.

With the cardboard sign serving as a barrier between the two of you, he isn’t as fearful of you feeling the erratic beat of his heart, though it wouldn’t be hard to guess if you looked at him. He closes his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy your hug rather than just panic through the entire ordeal like yesterday.

Soon enough, you’re detaching yourself from him, still standing close. Your arm is just a hair’s breadth away, and if not for Seokjin enthusiastically videotaping this entire experience, Yoongi might have closed in for another hug if he could manage.

“It’s always nice to get a hug from someone you like, huh?” You say, cheeks tinted a rosy color. The true meaning of your words flies over Yoongi’s head, as his feeble mind chooses to focus on your comment a little differently.

“I––Of course I like you! We’re friends, aren’t we?” Yoongi laughs nervously, unaware that he’s slowly digging himself into a ditch. To the side, Seokjin audibly slaps a hand to his face, body shivering with secondhand embarrassment from being blasted by the full force of how idiotic his friend actually is.

Yoongi sees you deflate a little, further confusing him. “Yeah, you’re right I guess…” You sigh, taking a step backward dejectedly. Yoongi flounders a little, unsure how he managed to fuck up in just a few seconds when you had just hugged him like your life depended on it.

Choosing now to interfere before the going gets rough, Seokjin steps in between and slings an arm around both of you. Yoongi groans under the weight of his arm, glaring when he notices that Seokjin had done it on purpose, but only to him. You don’t look too bothered by his rude gesture, albeit you were more befuddled than before.

“Hey, Y/N! I don’t know if you’ve ever ordered a hug-o-gram before, but I’m doing a special this week! Now that Yoongi-chi has so kindly joined the team,” Seokjin gives him a pointed look, to which the black-haired music major sticks his tongue out petulantly, “we’re doing a little promotion for first-time customers! Would you be interested in ordering one?”

Your eyes widen, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “M-me? Ordering a hug-o-gram? Well, I…” you hesitate, sending a small glance at Yoongi before looking away in embarrassment. “I would like to, but I don’t know if it’ll be well received, you see…”

Seokjin grumbles, silently cursing the stupid shithead who caused his own demise in the first place. The worst part is that he had no idea that he totally just friendzoned you! YOU! Someone who was literally leagues ahead of him. He sincerely has no idea what you see in this bumbling idiot, but everyone with a brain knows that you have been crushing on him for as long as he’s been crushing on you, so perhaps you’re a little bit of an idiot yourself for liking him back.

Being friends with the two of you makes him feel like he’s constantly wearing a sloppy wet diaper, and he hates it. He wants to wipe his ass as soon as possible!

Seokjin shoves Yoongi away roughly, ignoring his indignant squawks as he pulls you aside. He takes you by the hand, taking you a few steps away from Yoongi, far enough that he can whisper into your ear without the other boy hearing.

Yoongi fumes from the sidelines, trying to keep his emotions in check even though he’s bursting at the seams with jealousy. Not for the first time, Yoongi irritably realizes that he does act like a cat, especially in moments like this. He might make fun of Seokjin for being an attention whore, but Yoongi is the same, if only at a smaller scale. He just wants you to look at him, as selfish as that sounds.

Can someone give him a break? He’s been holding in his crush for four years now… Imagine having to take a massive shit after drinking two gallons of milk while being lactose intolerant, except every time you line up for the washroom, the line gets increasingly long no matter how long you wait. That is the extent of his suffering, he tells himself. So please, excuse his dramatics for this one instance.

(Seokjin’s Note: This fucking jackass is SO stupid. If he only knew how easy it is to ask you out, he would know that his emotional constipation could be solved if he just fucking ASKED where the next washroom is. He could have relieved himself ages ago, but NO! And he calls me the idiot! Me! The utter betrayal! I’m never agreeing to become the second lead to a rom-com ever again!)

When Seokjin finishes whispering in your ears, you appear amused by what he had said. Yoongi sweats when you turn to face him, grinning slyly at him. “Is that so…” you wonder aloud. Yoongi feels like the world has shifted on its axis somewhat, though he still doesn’t know exactly how. He has a hunch that he’s going to find out soon enough.

“Would I ever lie to you?” Seokjin laughs that annoying laugh of his, slapping his thigh in the process. He straightens up almost immediately, his expression turning deadpan in an instant. “Send me the details by tonight, and I’ll make sure to deliver it, okay?”

“Promise?” You ask, holding a pinky up towards him. Yoongi might have let out a high pitched sob when he sees the gesture, wanting nothing more than to cup your hands in his. God, if he already nearly died from hugging you, who is to say Yoongi won’t immediately disintegrate if you were ever to hold his hand?

“Promise,” Seokjin replies, linking his pinky with yours. He doesn’t forget to point a shit-eating grin at Yoongi, for good measure.

You pull away, looking happier than you did moments prior. You were absolutely glowing, filling Yoongi with a warmth that only you ever knew how to provide. He wants to make you smile like that all the time, wants nothing more than for you to live beside him, filling his walls with the sound of your tinkling laughter. You wave cheerily at the both of them, stepping away to head home. “I guess I’ll see you, then? I’ll make sure to e-mail you my request, Seokjin!” you say, winking teasingly. “Bye to you too, Yoongi! Thanks for the hug!”

Yoongi watches as you walk further and further away as the usual melancholy that follows whenever you leave soon takes its place in his soul. It might be his imagination, but Yoongi thinks the cat ears on his head might have started to droop to match his mood.

The only way he knows how to replace the sadness, however, is by redirecting those emotions on an unsuspecting victim. Lucky for him, a willing volunteer is already within punching distance.

“Ow! Stop punching me, you gremlin!” Seokjin whines, blocking Yoongi’s series of punches like a pro. He might as well put ‘professional punching bag’ on his resume at this point. “I’m trying to help you, you useless beta male!”

“How is this helping! You made me wear cat ears and whispered blasphemies into Y/N’s ears! Now she’s going to order a hug-o-gram for her crush and it’ll be the end of my chances with her! How could you!”

“I was not whispering blasphemies, you twittering tit! I was giving her advice,” Seokjin sniffs, annoyed. “Don’t say I never help you, by the way. I’ve been trying to help you for years now.”

Yoongi hits him with a steely glare. “Really? So replacing all my clothes in my closet with clown attire is your version of help? I had to wear those stupid clown shoes for a week before you told me where you hid my clothes, jackass!”

“I was only trying to help you physically express yourself! You’re already a clown on paper, might as well help you achieve your final form!” Seokjin huffs, infuriatingly haughty. “Listen, believe me. I only told Y/N something that everyone already knows anyway, so just shut your trap and let Daddy handle the rest. You’re not going to lose her, I promise.”

“Please never refer to yourself as Daddy ever again,” Yoongi seethes, stalking off towards their car. “Don’t ever talk to me again.”

“No talk, Yoobie angy…” Seokjin snickers to himself, following Yoongi with a spring in his step. This bastard is going to grovel at his feet by tomorrow evening, he’s sure of it. If he doesn’t, then Seokjin will bite his own dick in half––that’s how sure he is of his plan! (Not that biting his dick in half will do anything to his length; he’d still be left with eight inches, let’s be real.) All in good time.

x x x x x

Seokjin gets an e-mail the next morning, much earlier than any sane person would choose to be awake at. He groans lowly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he tries to read the contents of the letter. When he’s satisfied by what he has read, he forwards the e-mail to Yoongi before allowing sleep to take him once more.

Sleep evades him, however, when the sound of Yoongi’s big feet pounds noisily outside his bedroom. He hits his knee loudly against the coffee table, causing their beloved popcorn machine to tumble to the floor, but that is of little consequence to Yoongi right now. No, he needs to get into Seokjin’s room right now and scream––

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Yoongi hollers, slamming Seokjin’s door open. The hinges creak, desperately hanging on despite the impact. Yoongi proceeds to slam a fist upon Seokjin’s ass, who barely flinches due to the fatness of his ass cushioning most of the damage. He blinks blearily at Yoongi, but the smirk on his face is clear as day.

“Came to claim your hug so early in the morning? Well, I usually don’t entertain clients until after I’ve taken a shower, but for you… I’ll make an exception,” he yawns, peeling back his blanket and patting the empty spot on his bed. “Come on in, Yoobie Boobie… Let’s hug like it’s the last day on earth.”

Seokjin fails to realize that once he removed his blanket, he had inadvertently left himself vulnerable. Yoongi slams the heel of his foot against Seokjin’s groin, causing him to shriek bloody murder at 7 AM. He wonders, amidst his pain, whether this might be the last straw and that their landlord will finally kick them out after years of their stupid shenanigans.

“WHAT DID THAT E-MAIL MEAN? IF IT’S WHAT I THINK IT IS…” Yoongi threatens, but it’s as empty as Seokjin’s butthole. They both know the implications of that e-mail, even a toddler can put two and two together and make sense out of it. Anonymous e-mail or not, Seokjin wouldn’t just forward any hug-o-gram request to Yoongi, unless…

What did the e-mail say? It goes something like:

Dear Mr. Kim,

Thank you for offering your special promotion for new time customers of your Hug-o-gram Service! I’ve always been a quiet fan of your business idea, but I’ve always been a little shy to submit a request of my own. Thank you so much for giving me the little push that I needed to send my first (and hopefully last) hug.

I’d like to send a hug to Mr. Min Yoongi from the Music Department. I understand that he has recently been appointed an employee at your business, but seeing as how it’d be difficult for him to hug himself (while not entirely impossible), I’d like to request that you be the one to send the hug to him.

I don’t really have a message for him, per se… I’m still a little shy, even though you already told me that there is no reason to be. I want to believe what you said was true, so I’m pushing my fear aside and putting my fate into your hands. So, to Mr. Min Yoongi… “When I told you it was nice to hug someone you like, I don’t think you understood what I meant. A hug, after all, is a two-way street. They’re often served the best when it is reciprocated, if you catch my drift. :)”

Peace! :3

Regards,

[Redacted] [Redacted]

“Have your brain synapses finished connecting? Because if even this flies over your head, I’m sorry to say buddy but… You might have smooth brain syndrome,” Seokjin pipes up. He observes Yoongi’s brow crumpling, the first signal of his impending mental breakdown. If Seokjin remembers correctly, the next signal should be when––

Yoongi drops down to his knees, his phone clattering to the floor as he stares absently at the ceiling. Seokjin cringes, worried for the state of his friend’s frail kneecaps. The poor sap has bad heart health already; surely, it isn’t too early to get him a life alert button?

Seokjin scooches over his bed, dangling half his body over the edge to appraise his friend. “So. What do you plan to do now?”

For a moment, Yoongi remains silent. Eventually, he shuffles closer to him, perching his hands around Seokjin. The business student raises a brow, confused, until Yoongi pushes Seokjin back onto the middle of the bed so that he can cram himself beside Seokjin on his small double bed. He huffs amusedly, allowing the smaller boy to snuggle into his chest, though he still refuses to wrap his arms around him. Close enough, Seokjin snorts.

“I need your help, hyung.” Yoongi’s voice is small, shy. It’s so uncharacteristic of him that Seokjin immediately softens. They might act like toddlers together the majority of the time, but Seokjin truly does care about Yoongi more than anything. During early mornings like this, when the sun’s soft rays are filtering through his sheer curtains and filling the room with a gentle warmth, it’s nice to cuddle up with one another and enjoy the silence. In fact, Seokjin would never admit it to Yoongi, but he got the idea for his Hug-o-gram service from Yoongi himself, back when the younger boy would be more prone to sneaking into his bed during his bouts of loneliness and homesickness.

Above all else, Yoongi is just a boy with a lot of love to give, so who is Seokjin to say no to his pleas for help?

“You know I always got your back, Yoongi-chi. Whenever you’re ready, we can do whatever you want. Ask and you’ll receive,” he replies, caressing his soft black tresses. Yoongi hums, smiling softly into his chest.

“Thanks, dude. For being… you know.”

Seokjin’s heart pangs a little, but he ignores it. Instead, he continues combing through his hair, humming gently. “I know.”

x x x x x

It’s been a few days since you sent the e-mail to Seokjin and you haven’t heard back from him. You aren’t sure if he sends confirmation e-mails to his clients as you’d never asked for a hug-o-gram before, nor did you know anyone who has. You are forced to continue on with your days like normal, trying to ignore the unsettling anxiety from creeping up your throat and spewing all over the sidewalk.

If Seokjin hadn’t been lying to you, then there shouldn’t be anything to worry about. You’ve been harboring this crush on Yoongi for years now, and you never thought in your life that it would ever be reciprocated. He always seemed a little bit detached, a little too cool for you. Never mind the fact that he always seemed so jittery around you, like it was hard to talk to you or something!

Your answer comes on the last day of the week, after an especially rough day at class. Your back is bent, having finished a grueling four hour lab period where you did nothing but stand and stare at your reaction vessel spinning without any signal of change. You are just a little bit hangry from all the stress piling up on your plate, especially since you hadn’t eaten a decent meal since breakfast at 8 AM.

In short, life isn’t going as smoothly as you’d hoped for your senior year, but you can’t let the blues get to you too soon. After all, there are leftover chicken wings in your fridge with your name on it, and nothing beats your meat more than greasy poultry to end a terrible week.

You’re only inches away from sliding your keycard to open your shared dorm room when the door opens without prompting. You flinch backward, yelping loudly when your roommate Park Jimin grins slyly from the doorway––never a good sign, if you knew anything.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Jimin says, leaning casually against the door like he hadn’t just scared the living shit out of you. He takes one glance at your disheveled hair and lightly sweaty clothes before grimacing in disgust. “Girl, I can’t let you meet the love your life while you’re looking like that. Come on, we have a few minutes before he arrives. Let’s get you freshened up.”

“I’m sorry?” You squeak, allowing your roommate to manhandle you into your own home. He pushes you into your room, depositing you roughly onto your unmade bed. You try to make eye contact with him, but he’s too busy raiding your closet to pay you much attention. “Excuse me? What did you say just now?”

“No time, princess! Your Prince Charming is on the way, and I’ve been ordered by Seokjin to prepare you for this life-changing moment, so get your ass into gear and change into this!” He shoves a clean pair of jeans and a nicer-looking blouse at you before proceeding to grab your hairbrush and comb your tresses with the gentleness of a mother tigress. You shriek when the brush gets tangled in an especially stubborn knot, but Jimin is relentless. He nearly tears your hair by the roots, ignoring your pained whines.

“Will you fucking stop! I have literally no idea why you’re acting like a psycho all of a sudden–” You shout when Jimin begins to undress you, having to kick him in the chest to get him away from completely eradicating your remaining traces of dignity. “Okay, fine! I’ll dress myself! Just get out of my room and fucking stay away!”

Jimin looks at you dubiously for a split second, before eventually acquiescing. “You have two minutes to get changed. You wouldn’t want to keep him waiting, do you?” he says, smirking knowingly. He better dread the day that you finally wipe that annoying twinkle in his eye; it’s been a long time coming.

Left alone to your own devices, you do as Jimin says even though you’re still wildly confused by everything. To think you had been so excited to feast on your chicken wings, and instead, you went through a decade’s worth of torture within the last few minutes. Patting your hands on the butt of your jeans, you meekly take a step out of your bedroom, where Jimin is already tapping his foot impatiently by the door.

He motions for you to hurry up. “Let’s go! Seokjin says they’re rounding up the corner. Hold on,” he steps closer to you, raising your arm up to take a shameless sniff of your pits. “Sorry, had to make a pit stop. You can never be too sure,” he shrugs, disregarding your squawks of indignation.

“I smell fine! Now what are we–” Your sentence is cut short as Jimin all but carries you to the elevator, your shrieks of terror causing one or two of your neighbors to peek their heads out of their doors. When they see it’s just the two of you, they simply shrug their shoulders, returning to their lives like it was normal to see Jimin carry you in a fireman’s hold.

He doesn’t put you down until you reach the lobby of your dorm complex, barely out of breath despite having held you the entire way down. Stupid buff baby, you groan internally to yourself, straightening down your clothes in a desperate attempt to look decent. “Okay, we’re here. Who am I supposed to be meeting?”

In lieu of an answer, Jimin points wordlessly outside your building. A black car is parked on the other side of the road, and you can barely see a familiar head of hair poking out from the driver’s seat. “Seokjin? What the…” you trail off, before your eyes finally land on their target.

Yoongi stands outside the glass doorway, not dressed in his usual all-black attire. He’s wearing an outrageously cute pink shirt today, matching the color of his natural flush. He always looks effortlessly good, with his hair a little windswept in that boyishly cute way. Your mouth goes a little dry when you realize he’s wearing his famous leather jacket, the one that always got the girls and boys swooning when he walked past in them. You hated how whipped for him you were, not wanting to be like the weird kids in his secret fan club, but who can blame you? He’s just so…

You rip open the door, nearly tripping and falling over the short steps leading to the entrance. You grind to a halt in front of him and you’re acutely aware of how rabid you must look. Your chest is pounding, like your heart is begging you to step closer, just like when you had hugged him all those days ago. God, you were going to kill Park Jimin for this.

“Yoongi? What are you…” You take one look at him before your gaze drops to his hands folded carefully behind his back. It doesn’t hide the fact that there is an obvious bouquet of flowers behind him, though. Your face lights on fire when you notice they were your favorite flowers too.

“I’m here to deliver a hug?” Yoongi says it like he’s unsure of himself, but there’s a little coyness laced in his tone. His cheeks are painted a soft pink, and not for the first time, they remind you of freshly baked bread pulled out from the oven. Soft enough to kiss, you wonder idly to yourself.

“I mean… I did order a hug a few days ago, but I do recall not ordering one for myself?” you laugh a little hysterically, your breath cutting short when Yoongi grins softly in response. “I… Who is this hug from?”

Yoongi takes a glance back towards Seokjin. “Hey, boss. Am I allowed to reveal who the secret admirers are, or will that get me fired?”

Seokjin, despite being a few meters away, laughs loud enough for the whole street to hear. “Well, Yoongi-chi. Something tells me your resignation letter was coming in the mail eventually. Who cares about the rules at this point?”

“He’s right,” you quip, pulling Yoongi’s attention back. You’re smiling wide now, your hopes and dreams skyrocketing in your chest and blooming a garden in your heart. “Who cares, right?”

“Right,” Yoongi agrees, taking the last two steps he needs to get closer to you. He drops the bouquet somewhere behind you before finally, finally, embracing you once more. He kisses you gently on the forehead, the contact short and sweet.

You feel like you’re dying, but it’s all good because Yoongi looks just as embarrassed as you. But none of it matters, not when both your happiness is palpable in the air.

“Y/N…”

“Yes?”

“This hug-o-gram is from me to you. Will you go out with me?”

You’ve always been a firm believer that actions speak louder than words. So when you lean in to plant your first kiss of many many more, he knows your answer well enough.

[coraskeeper]

 ⤑ 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘴/𝘰

⤑ ft: shinsou, tamaki, kirishima, denki, fem!r

⤑ warnings: facesitting, unprotected seggs (don’t try this at home), choking, oral(m&f receiving), dumbification, slight femdom themes (only for tamaki), mastrubation, crying, use of the word cock bc it makes me giggle

⤑ file type: scenarios, smut

⤑ wc: 2.3k

⤑ an: def wanna write a whole shinsou smut now :’)

⤑ last edited: 1.25.21

⤑ 𝘦𝘪𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘢

his obsession with his best friends girlfriend started out innocent 

he wouldn’t say he was in love with you, more like a kiddie crush 

just wanting to be around you and that heart warming presence of yours all it took was for you to simply ask him how he was or, what he wanted to do saying that his opinion mattered just as much as anyone else 

it might’ve been then he fell for you, your interest in him was genuine, not many people cared much for his input on anything really 

not that he minded- it just felt nice, to know that someone had what he would think in mind

he liked you and if he ever got the chance he’d give you the world, but your world was bakugo and he respected that

but all it took was walking in on you and bakugo getting hot and heavy for his thoughts of you to become way less than innocent 

bakugos large hands splayed across your bare ass cheeks as he helped you move up and down along his shaft

your chest pressed into his as you released the most heavenly moans he’d even heard in his life 

your wavering whines telling his friend how you couldn’t take anymore but your hips still hopelessly bucking against his

now anytime the poor boy seen you his face flushed red and he’d cut your conversations short out of the guilt of have seen you naked without your knowledge

he felt bad that just the sound of your voice made him so hard it hurt and he’d have no other choice but to relieve himself 

thinking of you large hand palming himself through his boxers 

his head falling back in relief in his mind you tasted so sweet, he’d always wondered what you tasted like, or what you’d look like sitting on his face begging for him. he just knew you’d look ethereal.

his gripped your hips hard, helping you move your sopping cunt along his mouth, one of your hands threading themselves through his bright red locks giving them a tug.

tears falling from your eyes as you whine asking him to let you breathe just for a second, yet your body betrayed you, your hips rutting against his mouth with the little energy you had left, “ please kiri, i can’t “

his eyes coming to stare up at you lovingly, his lips releasing your clit, “ ‘cmon sweetheart, i know you’ve got one more left “

ruby eyes staring up at you as he flattened his tongue against your clit again, your face was sinful paired with your pretty moans falling from your lips as your hips rutted down harder against his mouth, body shaking before collapsing with a sweet whine of his name.

his hands rubbing soothing circles against your pelvic bone, “ what a good girl you are “.

knees weak, his muscular back arched off the cold wood of the head board as he cupped himself softly, spurts of hot cum soiling the inside of his boxers, “ i want.. to taste her “

⤑ 𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘫𝘪

he was actually terrified of you for a while before you became friends

you intimidated him to say the least

you and your boyfriend were very like minded, which would explain your random relationship with mirio

your presence was warm, and you often jumped into things head first and took everything that came your way with nonchalant attitude

though, your temper seemed to be a lot shorter and you were a lot more, uh- assertive for sure

he hadn’t known when it was he fell in love with you but no can say he never tried to prevent it

maybe it was when you’d make sure he got home safe, putting his life before yours on missions and coming to save his ass even when you needed to be saved yourself

or it might’ve been something as trivial as telling a waiter they got his order wrong at a restaurant

he wasn’t sure, but he was in too deep now and he was okay with just being your friend because you and mirio loved each other

he did pretty well at hiding his feelings for a while, 

well-

until he received a butt dial from his dear blond friend

at first there was silence and maybe some ruffling here and there, he’d contemplated hanging up until he heard mirio’s quiet whimpering from the other side of the cellphone

in a flustered haze he continued to listen, hearing your sultry voice loud and clear

low and stern, saying that if mirio wasn’t patient you wouldn’t let him cum at all, the blond boy begging for you and promising that he’d be good

he hadn’t mean to keep thinking about the phone call after that day but he couldn’t help but imagine what it be like underneath you and those attentive hands in the heat of the night

he tried not to touch himself at first- the guilt being too much, but your frequent visits to his dreams were becoming too much to deal with on top of his soiled sheets

so now- tamaki relieves himself of you the only way he knows how

your warm hand wrapped around his throbbing length trailing teasing kisses up his thighs, edging closer and closer to where he needed you, “you can cum again, can’t you tama? “

his lower half was starting to tingle almost painfully, the line between pain and pleasure was blurring, his eyes unfocused and body flushed in sweat, but he was so eager to take all that you were giving him, eager to be a good boy for you.

“ y-your mouth- bunny please “

he felt almost ashamed, yet the twitching of his ear and the lustful voice you used when you spoke was enough to spur him and the swirling heat in his stomach.

he wanted to be grateful and take all that you were offering to give him, anything to please you. anything to make you praise him.

the wetness of your mouth was all too surreal, he could almost feel your warm mouth sucking his cock into your throat, losing control bucking his hips up into your mouth with a whine, “ fuck, yes- ‘s good “

your pretty orbs staring up at him as he let out loud moans, his feet digging themselves into the bed sheets to fuck himself into your mouth at a harsh enough pace to give you a sore throat later.

his free hand slapping over his mouth, shaking body arching off the bed and knees clamping shut as he came with a tired scream of your name under his hand.

hot liquid dripping down his stomach and leaking from the tip of his softening length.licking the head of his already overstimulated cock, “ what a good boy you are, isn’t that right tama? “

his body falling limp with a whimper, “ i.. feel so dirty “

⤑ 𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰

you and his friend midoriya were polar opposites

you were smart mouthed and sarcastic, blunt and insensitive and you were always picking fights with him

though with time, he had begun to grow quite fond with you, a crush maybe

starting to indulge in petty arguments with you and push your buttons more often to see that cute face you made when you were frustrated

just when he came to terms that he developed a bit of attraction to you, you started to plague his mind in more ways than one

in all honesty- he did no more than merely acknowledge your current relationship with his friend

if he wanted you, he'd have you. it was as simple as that

he would never make passes at you simply because he liked you, he was fine with the distance between you both

but he’d figured his friend would have enough sense to know when and where was the right time to get hot and heavy with you

you sat between izuku’s legs, tongue lapping at his glistening cock pitifully, body shaking and tears streaming down your face

the way you could barely speak stunned him- you’d always had something to say

pleading the green haired boy to fuck you, give you some kind of stimulation

shinso watched you both shamelessly, retiring for the night with you and your submissiveness heavy on the brain

after the incident, he’d let you take control of his desires, taking cold showers to relieve himself of the stress you’d cause him from then on

he’d have his hand wrapped around your throat for sure, just barely cutting off your air circulation, hips snapping up into your ass in a pace that had your head spinning and spit dripping from the bottom of your chin.

desperately trying to turn your face away from the mirror in embarrassment, “ look at my pretty slut, drooling for me “, his fingernails digging into your cheeks and holding your head in place so you could watch how your body wreathed in pleasure from him and him alone.

he’d already made you cum with just his cock alone, not giving you time to collect yourself after each orgasm. his strokes deep and harsh, bruising the insides of your walls and his teeth leaving marks all over your neck- you had nowhere to run.

you were powerless and had no other choice but to take him whole, “ ‘nt t-take- no more “. your fingers grasping at the bathroom counter to prevent you from flopping face first into the sink.

“ he cant fuck you like this “, the loud wet smacking against your ass became impossibly louder, “ fucking yourself stupid on my dick- fuuck “

his teeth catching his bottom lip hard enough to break the skin, wet strands of purple hair sticking to his forehead.

thumb pressing down on the tip of his cock edging himself once again trying to control his moans of pure ecstasy at the thought of overstimulating you until you could no longer speak basic english, “ i wanna feel that pretty mouth of hers, too “

⤑ 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘬𝘪 𝘬𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪

he knew how wrong it was wrong but, it was his guilty pleasure

you were always so sweet to him, cradling his head to your chest when the others would pick on him and such

all of his friends took a liking to you as seros girlfriend and accepted you into their friend group

you grew especially close to denki, who happened to have a similar personality as you

the inevitable happened- of course, the classic love cliche

 he knew you loved sero and he’d never come between you two but he just couldn’t help himself

once sero had been trying to show him a couple of pictures on his phone, swiping too far 

accidentally showing denki a very vulgar photo of you

tears in your pretty eyes and your hands tied behind your back with your ass wiggling in the air

a godly arch and seros hand in the center of your back taunting him every time the image plagued his brain

the flash of the camera making your gorgeous cunt glisten 

so here he was, late into the night with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth and quiet groans heavy in his chest

sweats and boxers pulled down just low enough for his erection to leak precum against his stomach

shutting his eyes and tilting his head back to let his mind run wild, stroking himself slowly

you’d looked so pretty laid out beneath him legs pressed into your chest and tears of pleasure falling out of your eyes. his tongue catching each one before they could trail down and mix with the sheer layer of sweat on your sweet skin.

your pretty whines for him spurred him on, crying and moaning for him to ruin you in anyway he wanted, to take care of you because no one else could do it the way he did. he thought it was so mean of him to make you cry but you looked so angelic to him crying tears of joy all for his cock, all for him.

“ please, kaminari “, your pretty lips swollen as he leaned down to press another kiss to your mouth thrusting himself deeper into your fluttering cunt, “ don’t worry princess- gonna pump you full of cum “

his cock hitting the special spot inside your warmth, filling you up so good you could just scream, he might leave bruise on the back of your knees and an aching pain in your hips from how rough he was fucking into you.

your scorching insides sucking him back in each time, just imagining the pulse of your pussy was driving him crazy, “ look at this pretty pussy taking me so well- gonna take good care of her “

he could almost feel your arousal dripping down his lower abdomen, your hands pulling at his messy blond hair in ecstasy, your lovely voice calling out for him, “ please kami, take good care of me “

“ kami “

“ kami “

his hips jolting up into his hand harshly as he came, cum spilling over his fingertips, releasing a heavy pant wishlist brushing stray strands of his blond hair away from his face, “ fuuck, please “ 

tags:

[binniesthighs]

multifandom soulmate aus ✨

soulmate (n): a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.

✨ a/n: hello hello!! today on, “Ro’s self indulgent fics” ehehe i’ve been thinking a lot about some of my favorite kpop besties and how i feel like sometimes in a group, there’s the members who just stick like glue and it’s kinda like they were destined to meet that way! anyway hehe this concept is so fkn cute to me so i wanted to make some poly r-ship headcannons with some of my favorites! 

➛ disclaimer: the pairings that i use are def not all inclusive of all “soulmate” pairings out there, just the ones i know of atm! also, i know some of these groups better than others, so some will be more specific, and others a little more general! 

✨ groups included: stray kids, ateez, the boyz, monsta x, seventeen, txt, bts 

✨ feedback is always appreciated! who’s your favorite?✨

➛maybe if we’re feelin’ spicy i can do a part 2 with the ones i haven’t done yet ;) 

Pairing: idol x female reader x idol (see fandoms above!) 

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: established r/ship au, poly r-ship, sexual content (the usual stuff also including unprotected sex-please stay safe!) comfort ahhh, mentions of food alcohol  

*all photocreds go to ops :) 

both sfw and nsfw under the snip snip! 

♡ chanlix ♡

sfw

omg where the hell do i start with chanlix we love our cannon soulmates 

arguably the softest fkn pairing on this list; being soulmates with chanlix is like meeting your other halves (thirds?). there’s some serious destiny at work here!! 

the three of you understand each other on a spiritual level--almost to the point where you could likely read their minds if you wanted to try haha. there’s also a really, really strong type of emotional intimacy that you share with them that’s out of this world. 

this soulmate bond is so fkn strong, the three of you could go through any hardships and come out of it stronger than ever! 

the three of you have cute lil nicknames for eachother that you thought up yourselves! 

 your families are close as heck! it’s really pure how by the three of you so many people can get close ahhh 

i think that chanlix would be really into more outdoorsy dates? camping, swimming, hiking, sightseeing, stargazing, picnics etc! felix also loves taking you on food tours! 

bc chan is chan, he really takes on such a protective role over you and felix, he would quite literally do anything for you two: forgot your notebook or documents on the way to work/school? he’ll drop everything to bring them to you. sad? he’ll get you your favorite food, tons of blankets, his hoodie to wear and your favorite movie/tv show to watch with you! if anyone hurts your feelings too he will square tf up. 

felix is the world’s most adoring boyfriend in so, so many ways. not only is he such a cuddle bug, he shows you that he cares with tons of acts of service similar to chan! this comes in the form of his baking of course and other silly little gifts he sees that reminds you of him. he isn’t the best at words sometimes, but will soothe you by giving you a little massage or by playing with your hair! 

nsfw 

okay...😏 damn i’ve been wanting to write some poly chanlix so fkn bad ahhhh 

once again i really see chan taking the lead in more intimate situations. he really likes giving directions and seeing both you and felix carry them out! honestly he gets a bit of an ego boost seeing the both of you all whiny and fucked out ahhh 

here i come with my softsub!felix agenda oops hehe but this boy is frickin’ angelic for you and chan oml, he always asks for permission before he does things and eats praise up with a fkn spoon. praises alone really get him off: “does lixie like it when i play with his cute cock like this?” 

there’s something that gets the three of you ridiculously amped when you do all kinds of roleplay scenarios FRICK some favorites are pet play (you and lix being the kitties) teacher/student, roleplaying strangers, sex slaves, artist/muse, oh my god there was a halloween where you once did vampire roleplay you still think about it 🤤 

since the three of you are so comfortable with eachother, experimentation feels really safe! for example, the suggestion of shibari came up and now....let’s just say lix looks really pretty tied up ;) 

chan’s got a huuuuge (cock) and size kink!! he really likes topping both you and lix and seeing a bulge omg.... also when he can bulge your throats mmmhm! 

felix loves it especially when you ride his face, and he cold do it for hours! he looks so cute between your legs when he licks over and over your clit. he’ll ask you too if he’s doing good and you better say yes ;) 

favorite position would be all cuddled up and cozy with the two of them double penetrating you real nice and slow with tons of kisses and just touchin’ all over 

cockwarming cockwarming all day, every single time, without fail, it feels wrong if you finish without it! 

♡ woosan  ♡

sfw 

idk why but the first thing that comes to my mind is that in certain settings, ya’ll are loud as fuck AHA i guess what i mean to say as that as a trio, you are all super, super unapologetic and confident when around each other! this might have lead to you getting kicked out of a couple bowling alleys and karaoke places before... 

there’s a type of unspoken understanding that the three of you have that makes your bond so special. while you love eachother so dearly, it isn’t something that you really feel needs to be said out loud, it kind of just is! 

woosan are already really clingy on their own and when you come along?? you all can’t keep your hands off each other!! ya know how in movies there’s the whole “hand in the back pocket of your jeans???” woosan!! 

their energy together is so fkn chaotic but that's why you love them! they never fail to make you laugh and this is also the best way that they know how to cheer you up! 

Bc the three of you are a bit unbridled, it’s a bit hard to be serious at times when you go on dates/hang out with friends together so often you get some affectionate eye rolls haha 

wooyoung is someone that will try anything with you! hehe even if he knows that he mind not be that into it, he’ll still go with you! of course, he might say something snarky but he really does love just spending time with you! wooyoung also shares you with all his friends (changbin, yeonjun) so lowkey it feels like you’re one of the bros at times LOL 

san is a big fan of giving you gifts! oh also! words of affirmation too, san is someone who knows your insecurities well, so hypes you tf up all the time!! he especially loves buying things for you that he knows you’ll look pretty in just so he can compliment you ahhh 

at the end of the day however, there’s nothing more more that the three of you love than the tightest cuddles ever as you fall asleep! honestly, sometimes its a little too tight haha 

nsfw 

THESE BOYS FKN RAVISH YOU LIKE YOU’RE A FIVE COURSE MEAL 

and of course they expect the same from you as well! i mean....can you blame them??? these boys are sexy as hell and they frickin’ know it!! 

i have this super clear image of both of them stripping you down and rubbing massage oil all over your body and then giving you the turn to do it to them my lord...

sort of along this line, temperature play makes these boys feral. wax, ice, blowies with popsicles you name it 

both of them really just like being touched all over because they have the prettiest dancer’s bodies and just feeling hands on their muscles makes them loose it. 

wooyoung loves to mark the hell out the both of you in a really territorial way: all over your chests and necks even on your thighssss 

san, while he often does find himself in sub space, really easily can switch to dom you in the most beautiful way. everything with him is really intimate and raw: if this wasn’t already obvious haha he would like have a hand kink and loves seeing the way that his fingers look pumping in and out of your entrance and how your juices look as well. 

back too wooyoung, he’s the king of oral. whether it’s going down on you and sucking at your clit or deep throating with master level skill...foreplay is never boring with him! 

in my brain, i can see the both of them filling nearly position so this makes for an interesting dynamic to say the least AHA 

every once and a while, they’ll let you take complete control of the both of them while they just sit back and watch you with the most smug-ass grins that you’ll see in your life! 

AH another thought: woosan fkn love when you squirt on them, in any way this might look: when you’re nearly screaming in your overstimulation they want it all over them. 

favorite position would be 69 threesome style with all of your sloppy moans in-between <3 

♡  moonbae  ♡

sfw 

HEAR ME OUT the king of soulmates that know that they are soulmates but don’t take it seriously in the slightest istg this is my most favorite dynamic ahhhh 

there is not one dull day with these two boys, they’ll have you laughing in stiches until you can barely breathe like, the best kind of wheezy, silent laughter ya know what i’m talking about 

INSIDE JOKES literally so many inside jokes with the three of you 

Kevin is never scared to call your ass out, but that’s bc he knows you so well!! it’s all just jokes don’t ya worry ;) 

Along this line, your groupchat like has some random-ass name that’s also an inside joke

Jacob on the other hand is the biggest sweetheart when it comes to you, boy frickin’ melts. There is not a day that goes by when he hasn’t told you he loves ya morning and night. 

Also the best listener in the whole world, you can tell him anything and everything and he’s just sit and listen and give advice. 

Kevin loves you a ton a ton but just shows it differently! He remembers all the little things about you that you tell him to the point it’s scary how he does it so well 

Meme king Kevin would send you memes that remind him of you and Jacob

Lowkey i can see the both of them getting into the cutest petty arguments like which one of them you love more or think is more talented AHA again it’s all in good fun hehe 

it goes without saying but...it’s cuddle central up in here. 

THEY WOULD SERENADE TF OUT OF YOU oh my god it’s literally heavenly, Kevin would play piano and Jacob would play guitar FRICK 

You have oddly specific dates?? Like they would pick a movie to go see that the three of you would all hate just to meme the whole time. Jacob would still get invested accidentally tho. 

The way to both of these boy’s hearts is their stomachs so when you cook for them they would quite literally do anything for you 

nsfw 

ok ok so i’m a baby deobi so this is the gist of what i’m getting (i also did a little research LOL thank you @ deobi smutblr hehe) 

firstly i would like to say that i’m manifesting thigh riding with Jacob and i literally can’t think of anything else for some reason just p h e w and BOY does he love it too he thinks its so fkn cute to watch you! 

i get heavy, heavy switch vibes from Kevin with maybe some sub leanings??? either way, jacob def has soft dom vibes (oh god and occasional soft sub) to me but also has no problem with you taking control and doing what you like to him if that’s what you desire! 

kevin is impatient impatient and does not do well with your teasing. also...loud as hell, like, sometimes you have to tell him that he needs to calm tf down hehe (but of course you love it when he gets like that) 

separately, both of them are very different experiences i think: kevin is a fan of hard and fast, kitchen counter over the sofa type stuff sloppy toppy in risky places, and he loves to experiment too! 

jacob is also really different where he likes much, much more slow and intimate stuff like missionary, shower sex, real atmospheric stuff like candles and nice scents ahhh BIG fan of really fluffy pet names too like baby, princess, angel etc. super visual too omggg gets hard when you strip for him i think ;) 

together it’s a fkn whirlwind i’ll tell ya that. its like, honestly the most unique experience i can think of on this list because the two of them are so different. i will say that it can end up being really giggly and sweet tho! 

when it’s the three of you, kevin’s dom side comes out a little more so you’re left with these two lovely boys who want to give you all the attention! it’s lowkey a competition lol 

favorite position is when you’re sucking jacob off and kevin gets to do literally whatever the hell he wants with your pussy...i imagine that it might have to do a lot with edging if you ask me ;) 

♡ jookyun  ♡ 

sfw

oddly, i find myself soft af for jookyun and idk how to describe it haha (considering that they can often be hard as hellll) 

the three of you are also really nonchalant, but this is really in the way that you just feel as if you’ve known eachother for a really long time! 

as we know, jookyun were a bit of an enimies to lovers arc (AHA) so with the time that they’ve spent building their bond, it’s strong asf! 

i like to think that jooheon and changkyun would really get a ton of artistic inspiration from you for their music. since both of them write and often reflect bc of this, you’re totally their muse! (they’ll write some nasty as hell lyrics thanks to you too LOL) 

while our lovely thicc mx boys have unbridled confidence at times, really, they are babie. and they are frickin weak for your pampering. 

because of this, the two of them would become flustered as all hell when you do lil things for them!! this could be making them some lunch or just giving them the off compliment that they look a lil extra handsome that day. 

your safe place is with them!! ahhh i would also like to add the number of slick ass grabs when you’re in public is a bit off the chain at times ahah 

the duality of this r/ship is really something to note LOL when you go out and about when the two of them you certainly get some stares bc they look a lil intimidating at times but when you and your boyfriends cuddle up on the subway you give all passerby's whiplash haahah

Kyun is someone who is insanely romantic. almost to the point that it is cheesy haha he’d treat the both of you to expensive ass dinners, beach vacations and maybe even matching couple’s jewelry like rings or bracelets! 

jooheon on the other hand is a little more toned down haha but has another side to him that fkn swells with pride knowing how breathtaking you both are...frankly, his ego skyrockets knowing that he’s got you both for arm candy if this make sense teehee 

the three of you call eachother “babe” interchangeably, so it can get a bit confusing when you’re all in the same place and someone says “hey babe?” you need a new nickname ooP 

nsfw 

hello and here i am to push the sub!changkyun agenda. first and foremost i would like to explain how this man is such a pillow princess with the most lovely bratty edge *sighs* all that kyun wants is for you to fkn use him and do literally whatever the hell you want!! this man daydreams about you riding him right then and there wherever the hell he is. 

also, kyun is the king of toys, both using them on you and on himself! need i also say breath play as well in the same giving and receiving form? more than anything he loves it when jooheon wraps his hand around his neck hooooly ahhh he prefers it when you tease his tip with a vibrator until he’s angrily red and begging for you to give him a break just for you to bend down and give a kiss to his pearly head which makes him jolt 

jooheon is often more of a soft to hard dom if you ask me and takes care of both you and kyun really well. also... he will manhandle the hell out of you if you feel up for it (cough cough your arm kink for him ) oh shit and his thighs....don't’ even get me started 

while the three of you often opt for the hard and fast (even in some more risque places--such as in the recoding studio) there are really some more intimate times that you share too! 

on one of changkyun’s vacations, in the middle of the night, when no one was in sight and the hot tub was free for use...it started out as a bit of making out but then turned into something else when you decided to straddle jooheon and he let his hands creep under the straps of your swimsuit...needless to say you were bouncing on both of their dicks while you were warmed by the crackling bubbles 

at times, jookyun can get a little needy and impatient without you, so this has lead to a couple situations where you walk in on them letting out their frustrations ;) of course, immediately then they’d love for you to join! 

kyun has an oral fixation too, sooo he may or may not love cockwarming with his mouth or sucking your fingers lightly when you go to suck his dick~ 

♡  junhao  ♡

sfw

here me out with this one...but...there’s something really intimate about this relationship?? oh how to put this into words LOL junhao also have an insanely deep bond that really transcends if ya ask me haha 

while they both can be really goofy around eachother when comfortable the soulmate vibes are just...immaculate! this is all i can say? all three of you are just so connected in the way that you accept each other for all that you are and just kind of naturally gravitate towards each other even before you really knew that there were romantic feelings involved! 

first, i would like to say that out of all the pairings on this list, you three are classy as FUCK. seeing the three of you next to eachother is like seeing literally three models in the flesh. the way that you dress (sometimes even to match a little) is unbelievable bc you all just look so good? 

hand holdingggg wherever you go! holding hands across cafe tables, playing with each other’s hands absentmindedly hehe 

TRAVEL BUDDIES you would go anywhere with them and take tons of pics!! i mean the prettiest pics 

hao shows his love for you in the form of so many things, all of which he makes himself!! you inspire his physical art and drawings which he shares with you and he also loves to take clothes too and personalize them for you! 

jun on the other hand would take you to the studioooo and you could watch him danceee oh my gosh he’s literally so breathtaking and he would be dancing just for you with every curve of his body he’s so magical :’) then he’d ask you for feedback and you’d just be speachless...also loves to make you smile!! just being his goofy self he’s the best at it and thinks you’re so cute! 

there’s a ton of adoration in this relationship! tons of cute little displays of skinship that might look like a poke in the cheek or the fluffing of their hair ahh 

still, i feel like you would have kind of silly little nicknames for them that match their personalities and perhaps...you could have matching phone cases with these nicknames.... 

in this relationship there’s a ton of quiet moments that are really peaceful and indulgent such as watching sunsets, drinking wine together, just talking about life n stuff like that! 

nsfw 

hellz yeah we’re in for some more intimate-ass fuckin! but also....😏

this boys are kinky as shit but in like a really classy ass way lolll this is so hard to put into words. 

well, i’ll start with junhui catboy agenda so there’s that hehehe he would most def be into pet play: that could be like ears or pretty collars and of course calling you (or him) kitten. 

minghao is really versatile and doesn’t really like labels of dom and sub, he just does what he wants and what feels good to him! bc we’re talking about how intimate everything is, the kind of sex that you share with them is often never rushed but really purposeful and even planned sometimes! 

i also see there being TONS of sensory items that would come into play with junhao such as flowers, fragrances, aphrodisiacs, all kinds of fabrics for sensory deprovision such as velvet, silk, hemp rope, and so much more! 

BOTH OF THEM WOULD SOUND ANGELLIC i see hao as letting out really pretty soft moans that kind of trail on his tongue and jun sort of choking out gasps with a bit of a rasp to them when they cum or they feel turned on

oh god MIRROR SEX that's what i have to say about this 

it doesn’t happen often, but sometimes when any one of you would be feeling needy or pent up they can certainly do hard and fast with you between the two of them. especially when this happens, oh my god hao loves it when you moan really breathily into his mouth when you’re pressed against him ooooh shit 

and jun loves it when you bite into his shoulder too when he fucks you it just makes him feral 

actually, i could really see the three of you recording yourselves, or even taking pictures when you have more intimate moments to look at later, just for your own enjoyment or to get off when you’re without the others 

favorite position: hmmm mirror sex with you on top of minghao literally just kissing him and marking his body as jun eats you out until you’re dripping down to minghao’s cock which he jerks off too~ 

♡  yeonbin  ♡

sfw 

DON’T TOUCH ME IM SOFT  

admittedly i don’t know too much about this pairing but i do know a lil so i wanted to add them!! i also did a lil research hehe 

FIRST i would like to say that the three of you would without a doubt have the cutest puppy together, if not one, then two!! they would be little dogs with perfect haircuts and likely have their own instagram account which the three of you would run! they’d be instragram famous of course 

LITERALLY EVERY DAY ITS A FIGHT OVER WHOS CUTEST i kid you not this is an ongoing battle you’re all just...so weak for the other ahaha 

being in a relationship with them is like being in a relationship with your bestfriends! 

dates with the two of them can really range all over the place bc you just like having fun together! movie dates, breakfast dates, ZOO OR AQUARIUM DATES, taking little trips to places you haven’t been before or stay at home dates like having a little indoor picnic! 

soobin is really low energy, and would often opt to hang out with you at home or at a cafe while the two of you do your thing together! he lovessss when you bake or cook for him, literally whatever it is he’ll eat it! 

his smile is instant serotonin and the reason why you fell in love with him! the two of them together all smiley is your lockscreen! 

yeonjunie prefers going out with you clothes shopping and would DEF enable you to dye your hair a color that you’ve always been dying to do! he also loves showing you new music and blushes like heck when you tell him that you like the songs that he picks! 

in their own playful ways too, they’d always call you out on your bs LOLL but they just wanna motivate you! they’re your biggest cheerleaders! 

Deep down though, both of them are quite cheesy and would love to shower you with alll the stereotypical romance that you can take even if it makes all three of you cringe ahahah 

nsfw

NEEEEDY and literally so mf horny on the dl like it’s comical to how soft and shy they can be in real life situations 

oh my god this is a godly thought but i see both of them being both switchy as heck but not really bc they like how it feels to be in those different postions but literally....bc no matter what it is they are getting off lolll 

i see both of them having sub leanings but can get real bratty if they’re feeling it. 

yeonjun does have a dom side to him that just comes with his general confidence that he gets around you! when either of you beg from him he’s ready to let himself loose. 

im so sorry but they literally handed pet play to me on a silver platter with cat & dog and there is no going back for me. SO you’re in for puppy, kitty and bunny play (shhhh yeonjun’s got his fox ears too) 

WHY AM I THINKING ABOUT HOW ALL OF YOU WOULD LIKE THIGH HIGHS

both of them love being edged to high hell by you...no matter if it hurts...they kinda like it? 

at the same time, both of your boyfriends also love giving you all the attention at times too! i’m talking about one of them playing with your breasts while the other trails kisses down your body all the way down to your pussy aching for attention too

FUCK this might be just me but soobin eating you out>>>> a GODLY sight. 

i have this other fantasy of yeonjun with either lip piercings or nipple piercings or even a dick piercing someone plz tell me to calm down 

oh please...bubble bath with the two of them holy shit baby pink bubbles all around you while you take turns givin’ each other cute kisses ahhhh 

one more thing to the pile here would be hella mutual masturbation soo much of it. the three of you get off just simply watching eachother too and dirty talking how much you love the way the others look with hands rubbing themselves away with cute whiny moans~ 

♡ taekook ♡

sfw 

omg! this is my first time remotely talking about bts on my blog hehe this is so exciting!! i don’t really read too much bts ff so this is going off of my own perception! 

i just wanna say....there’s so much to unpack here LOL but like many of the soulmates on this list, these boys are ~whipped~ for you and eachother!! its so stinkin’ cute 

another thing about these expensive boyfriends is that they loooove to sing for you too! they’d sing you to sleep, when you’re sick, sad, or just had a hard day allllways hehe 

the three of you have sickeningly adorable nicknames for eachother, the kind that honestly make heads turn LOL 

jk would without a doubt get tattoos with you!! and wine drunk lollll he’s also a huge enabler so if there’s anything that you’re considering buying or doing he’d hype you up so bad you barely have to think twice heheh 

kinda like junhao they’d also make amazing travel buddies but less for the aesthetic, but for the luxury. you’d stay at amazing hotels and eat at Michelin star restaurants wearing luxury brands that they bought for you

i feel like this goes without saying, buuuut in this r/ship, its alll about the adoring glances from afar or even just right next to you bc they love you so much!! 

i also get a very protective vibe from them as well, you’re very special to them, and they never wanna see you in harms way or disrespected by anyone! this could even look like having their arm around you on the bus or on the small of your back in a crowd 

together, they’re the biggest jokesters and flirty as HELL they think that it’s so funny when they flirt out in public AGRESSIVELY just to make you a lil embarrassed hehe  

forehead kissessss and kisses on the back of your hand! 

nsfw 

luxurious in this area tooooo 

they would rent out the penthouse or presidential suite to make an evening for you and pull out all the stops: expensive champagne, lingerie selected just for you, a breathtaking view of the city ahhhh 

ya all know how much i love my soft and intimateeee body touching and there would be plenty of this! they take their time undressing you and eachother and would plant kisses into the nape of your neck and shoulders as you do so! 

i would like to contribute to this conversation sub!jk bc this is something that ahhhhh i really like to think about as well as soft dom tae bcccc why not heheh 

these boys are utterly gorgeous under soft lighting and prowling all over your body too tho ahhh 

BUT! imagine teasing the hell out of jk, barely letting him feel your mouth besides fleeting kisses while tae drives his hips into you from behindddd 

in fact, these boys actually don’t mind a little voyeurism with the wide windows in your suite, opting to leave them open so there's a bit of thrill in the way that they fuck you too~ 

tae has a bit of...dare i sayyyy a power kink, so when you call him names such as sir, daddy, master etc oh boy 

jk himself is bit into sensory dep specifically with blindfolds especially when its your hands travelling all around his body making him shiver. 

both of them just looove cuming all over you as well: face, ass, thighs, belly, literally anywhere, they just think that you look amazing like that! 

there are a couple times here and there when the three of you also do a bit of cam work together for other people to watch--although it isn’t often, you rake it in when you do so. the three of you are a perfect fantasy! 

sex also can happen in odd places with you three too since you can just start feeling it and don’t really care ;) strangest place....hmm i’d say when you joined the mile high club with them~ 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

[ppersonna]

tempestuous - kth | m

tem·pes·tu·ous - adjective - characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion

↳ summary- There’s no one who riles you up more than Kim Taehyung, your best friend’s brother.  He knows exactly how to make you fly off the handle.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 6.8k

↳ pairing- taehyung x reader

↳ genre- smut, minor angst i guess in the form of fighting, this is one big pile of smut, there’s some fluff too

↳ warnings- yikes where to begin.  angry sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don’t be like dis), slapping, spanking, pain kink, dom/sub elements, facefucking, really rough sex, finger sucking, derogatory names, uhhh name calling, hate sex, tae is fuckin nasty yall im thriving

↳ a/n- I HAD TO REUPLOAD bc tumblr sucks lol well folks. here we are.  i was given a prompt by @ladyartemesia​ so i blame her.  as for tae, he really came for me this week and completely wrecked me, love that for me. i really popped off here and it’s only edited by me so i’m SORRY if there’s a lot of mistakes.  fun fact i actually wrote almost 10k of another version of this but it frustrated me so badly i scrapped it lmao  🤡 HERE WE GO! Enjoy!  feel free to send in your requests and i promise to try and get it done for you! 

Kim Taehyung could only be described in a few words.

Infuriating, bothersome, vexing.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, suave.

Absolutely, inherently maddening.

And you hate how much you absolutely melt underneath his gaze, the way your heart leaps into your throat with a single word.  Your body, the ultimate betrayer, opens up to him as your brain screams to abort, reverse, go back to start and do not pass go.

Kim Taehyung is not just the bane of your existence, no.  He’s the little brother of your best friend, Kim Namjoon.   Joonie had been in your life since you were in first grade and he in second.  Taehyung was your age, but you hit it off with the older boy and haven’t separated since.  Your mothers joked that you would get married one day and continue on the Kim line.  Until they found out that Namjoon was 1) bisexual and 2) hopelessly in love with, ironically, a man named Kim Seokjin.   He reasoned to his parents that they would at least carry on the Kim name.  

Where Namjoon was sweet, caring, and deeply compassionate towards you, Taehyung was his alter.  Taehyung was brash, cocky and relished in watching you squirm, whether it be out of fury or the god forsaken sexual tension.  All growing up, he was the one to pull your pigtails, trip you into puddles of mud, and tease you in front of your friends. Namjoon, ever the faithful companion, was always there to pick up the pieces of what Taehyung broke.

It’s been that way with Taehyung ever since. A constant tug of war with each other, both unwilling to give a single inch to the opponent.  

Your relationship with Namjoon remained steadfast as ever.  Namjoon eventually moved in with his now-husband, Seokjin, who easily settled into your life as an additional partner in crime.  You spent most of your days and nights settled into the couch, snuggled somehow in between or next to one of the two men you cherished most.  You had the two best friends you could ask for and a happy life, blissfully Taehyung-free.

Until it wasn’t.

A loud knock wakes you from an unexpected nap on Namjoon’s couch.  Your eyes crack open against the glare of the sunlight streaming through the windows.  It takes a moment to gather your surroundings.  You recognize that you’re in Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, and judging by the silence, you’re definitely alone there.  As you reach for your phone, the screen lights up the time.  5:34 pm.  Well, shit. You remember eating brunch and drinking mimosas at noon with your best friends and then lying on the couch to watch Netflix.  How had you fallen asleep for five hours?  How did you not wake? What the fuck did Jin put in his mimosas?

The knock is insistent again, louder this time.

“Joon! Jin! it’s me! Open up!”

The voice sounds familiar in your sleep-addled mind, but not quite enough to pinpoint it.   You push your limp body off the couch and wince at the feeling of sore muscles.  Couch sleeping isn’t all it’s cracked up to be once you’re past the age of 25.

“Sorry, Namjoon isn’t here-,” You open the door to explain to the guest and you’re cut off.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You rub at your sleepy eyes and allow your vision to focus, only to feel your blood stand still in your veins.

Kim Taehyung.  Of fucking course.

“What do you mean, why am I here? I’m always here,” you tut as you fold your arms to your chest.  “What are you doing here?”

He rolls his eyes and holds up his hands, two suitcases clutched in each.  Who the fuck carries 4 suitcases up three flights of stairs? Kim annoying ass Taehyung does, apparently.

“I’m moving in.”  He pushes past you and into the living room.  

Your mouth gapes open.  Namjoon certainly didn’t tell you this.  Taehyung looks back at chuckles at your reaction.

“I’m guessing your best friend didn’t tell you the happy news?”

You shut your mouth, quickly jumping back into composure.  “No, he failed to mention that,” you sniff.  “I thought you lived with your girlfriend in Gangnam?  What was her name? Rose or whatever?”

Tae stiffens, just slightly for a moment, before he plasters back on the bravado.  “Obviously not anymore.  We broke up, she kept the apartment.  Got tired of moping at my mom’s house and I told Namjoon I wanted to come back to the city.”

You feel a slight tug at your stomach, guilt, perhaps?  You clear your throat.  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

He laughs as he sits on the couch, instantly throwing his feet onto the coffee table, like a heathen.  “No, you’re not.”  

“What do you mean, no I’m not? God, sorry for being polite!”

This, you reason, is why you can’t sustain longer than 5 minutes of civilized conversation with your best friend’s younger brother.  He’s impossible.

He just smirks, and you know he loves the rise he gets out of you.

“Because I know you, and I know you don’t give a fuck about my love life.”

Au contraire. If only he knew just how much you gave a fuck.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be nice to you!” you nearly stamp your foot in frustration but hold yourself back. That would be too good of ammo for him to use against you.

“Okay, fine,” he acquiesces. “Whatever helps you feel you’re a good person.”

You’re seeing red and you know you want to continue screaming at him but you will not stoop to his level.

“Christ, I haven’t seen you in months and you’re still an asshole,” you say as you grab your keys and shoes. “And also, Jin will kill you if he sees your feet on his coffee table.”

You whip yourself around and open the door to leave and hear him call over your shoulder.

“Good to see you too, doll! Love the hairstyle, by the way.”

You close the door with a growl leaving your throat.  The absolute audacity of that man.

You stomp towards the elevator to take yourself to the ground level, when you catch your reflection in the shiny metal. Your hair is in what you can only lovingly call a complete hornet’s nest. It’s ratted and sticking out in places and you feel your cheeks burn.  Your first reintroduction with Taehyung is with a fight AND with you looking like a fool.

This would not do. No, sir.

“Kim Namjoon!” you shriek into your cell phone.  You’re awkwardly pressing it against your ear with your shoulder as you walk out of the convenience store under your apartment building with 3 bottles of soju and a six-pack of beer. You needed to drown your shame and sorrow, and fast.

“Hello, love of my life and moon of my stars,” your best friend replies and you can hear Seokjin chuckle in the background.

“No!” You chide, already cracking a beer open as you storm into your apartment building. “Don’t you Khal Drogo me, mister! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me your fucking asshole brother was moving in with you?!”

Namjoon is silent and you can tell he’s wincing on the other end of the phone. “Oops?” He offers.

“Yeah, big oops! A heads up would have been nice! Like, ‘hey best friend, your worst enemy of all time is moving in today. Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep on my couch and wake up looking like Frankenstein’s ugly wife. Oh, and also my handsome boyfriend and I will just happen to not be there when he arrives’.”

By this time, you can tell Namjoon has put you on speakerphone because you can hear their rich laughter loud and clear. Rude bitches.

You stab your key code into your door and lock yourself in, chugging as much of the beer as you could handle.

“At least, even in her rants she thinks I’m handsome,” Jin gloats.

“I’m sorry babe,” Namjoon sighs as he finally calms down. “I didn’t know he would be there today. I just found out about it last night.”

You nibbled at your bottom lip, the annoying pit in your stomach feeling simultaneously guilty that he went through a breakup, unbridled joy that something brought him down a peg, and just a dash of excitement that he’s single now.

You let out a breath. “It’s okay, Joon.  It just surprised me to see him.”

Jin butts in, “And because you have a big, fat, unresolved crush on him.”

“Jin!” You admonish. The couple laughs again and you roll your eyes, asking yourself why you put up with the two. “I do not!”

They both hum a non-committal answer, implying they don’t believe you in the slightest.

“Whatever.  What are you guys doing, anyway?”

“We just got home from shopping.  God, Jin looked so good in these jeans he tried on.  I was actually just about to suck his coc-,”

“Kim Namjoon, do not finish that sentence! I do not wish to hear it!” You try to remain firm, but dissolve into giggles with the pair.

You could never stay mad at Namjoon long, even if his brother was the devil incarnate.

“Darling,” Jin calls through the phone.  “I still expect to see you at our place tonight for our sleepover.”

Christ, you had forgotten all about your scheduled sleepover night.  It was tradition and one of your favorite parts of your friendship with the couple.  Jin, a literal chef, prepared a five star meal along with dessert for you while you binge watched Netflix and talked incessantly.

But you also usually slept in their spare bedroom.  The exact one that Taehyung would be occupying.

“Fuck, while he’s there?”

“Oh suck it up,” Jin chides, like he’s your mother. “He’s probably not even going to leave his room.  You’re not getting out of this.  I’m making strawberry cheesecake.”

Your mouth waters at the idea of Jin’s famous cheesecake.  

“Fine, but I get to lick the bowl and not Namjoon.  Those are my terms.”

Namjoon squawked in defiance as Jin laughed.  “I agree to your terms.  Be at our place by 8.”

As you hung up the phone, you checked the time.  6:40.  God, he hadn’t left you with much time to get ready, did he?

And you definitely needed to get ready.  There was no way you were entering a room where Kim Taehyung exists looking like booboo the fool, not again.

Your fingers press the 6 digit passcode to Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, arms heavy laden with your bag of toiletries and pajamas, and a bag full of wine.

“Honey, I’m home!” You announce as you toe off your shoes and slide into the combined kitchen and living room.

You receive no reply, but greeted with the amused face of none other than the object of your filthiest dreams, Taehyung.

“Pet names already?  We’re moving pretty fast, wouldn’t you say?” He asks you as he lounges at the kitchen table.  He watches you open the fridge to set the wine, as comfortable in their home as you are in yours.

“Fuck off,” you grumble. “Where’s your brother?”

Tae seemed absolutely tickled by your disgruntlement.  “I think they mentioned something about taking a shower.  That was 20 minutes ago, though.”

“Great,” you sigh. “Those fucking horn dogs act as if they’re still newlyweds.  We’ll be waiting awhile.”  

You tug off your sweater, leaving you to remain in a fitted tank top and yoga pants.  You tried to maintain a comfortable look as you dressed for the evening, while keeping in mind which leggings hugged your ass and showed off your toned thighs, and a tank top that dipped low to your cleavage.  Okay, so maybe you had ulterior motives. You wanted to make up for your dreadful appearance earlier and make him squirm, payback for the years of him doing it to you.

You watch him as he lets his eyes roam your body, eying you like he wants to ravage you completely. You feel victorious… and also turned on. Fuck, you played yourself.

You flop onto the couch in a huff and Tae snorts before joining you.

“What’s so funny?” You eye him suspiciously.

“Nothing,” his smile feigns innocence. “I’m not allowed to laugh?”

You sniff in annoyance, not eager to fall for his tricks. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want, your highness.”  Sarcasm drips from your voice and Tae finds it even more humorous.

“I see you’re still a sassy bitch.”

You gasp, audibly startled by his language and rise from the couch, fists clenched.

“I see you’re still a conceited dick!”

He rises to meet you where you stand, eyes boring into your own with his stupid sexy grin on his face.  “I see you’re still not one to back down from a fight.”

You step closer, close enough to feel his breath on your face.  Idly, you note it smells like peppermint and you move closer on reflex.

“Yeah? I see you’re still not one to avoid starting a fight in the first place!” you huff.

“Oh, I started it?”  

“Yeah, you started it! You called me a bitch!”

You can’t believe this is happening.  You feel as if you’re 6 again and fighting with him over a toy.

“A sassy bitch, actually,” he corrects, taking another step forward, bodies touching.

“Fuck you!”

“Only if you say please,” he quips before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours in a scorching hot kiss.

There’s not even a moment of hesitation on your end, immediately pulling him even closer and wrapping your arms around his neck and allowing his tongue entrance to your mouth.  Your body reacts to his instantly, as if it’s wired to respond to him and him only. Your mind was blank of anything except Tae, only Tae please, and you acted purely on instinct alone.  And instinct was pulling him closer and begging, more, anything he could give.

The sound of laughter coming from the hallway pulls you apart, neither of you wanting to get caught by Namjoon or Jin.  You stare at him, his lips are cherry red and slightly swollen and the image burns into your retinas.  He has such pretty lips after you’ve kissed him.

“Oh hey! What’s going on here?” Namjoon asks as he notices the intense eye-battle you’re engaged in with his younger brother.

It shakes you out of the spell, eye contact broken and hypnosis halted.  

“Just, errrr,” you falter to find the right words to explain the situation.

“Just getting reacquainted.”  Tae sounds completely unaffected, as if the passionate kiss you shared with him seconds ago was but a distant memory.  Asshole.

“I’m surprised you two haven’t thrown anything at each other yet,” Jin laughs. “Or thrown yourselves at each other.”

Both you and Taehyung whip to look directly at Jin.

“Her!?” Tae is incredulous. “Gross.”

You’ll never admit out loud that his words wound you.

“You’re an asshole, Taehyung,” you punctuate your words by turning away from him and towards Namjoon, who appears amused as ever.

“Ah, I love when my best friend and my little brother are screaming at each other.  Feels like old times.  Can one of you cry now to complete the moment?”

Taehyung grumbles under his breath, something you can’t catch, and stalks off to his room.  The slam of his door reverberates in the apartment and Jin jumps and turns to yell down the hall at his brother-in-law.

“Yah! Don’t break my apartment! I still owe money on this!”

Despite Taehyung’s appearance every so often in the kitchen or living room, the rest of the night goes on with no annoying disturbances.

Jin spoils you and his husband with expensive food, and the best cheesecake you’ve ever eaten in your life.  Plus, you’re given the bowl to lick clean despite a desperately adorable pout from Namjoon you were sure would persuade Jin.

You’re settled on the couch, snuggling in the middle of the couple as an action movie flickers across the big screen tv.  Truthfully, you haven’t paid attention to a single thing happening, your thoughts entirely too absorbed in Taehyung and that deliciously infuriating kiss.  

Why did he do it?  You couldn’t comprehend his reasoning.  Perhaps he was doing it to piss you off.  He’s never angered you with that level of intimacy before, but you didn’t put it past him.

You’re surprised when the credits of the movie start rolling and Jin and Namjoon fake loud yawns.

“Oh man, I’m beat,” Namjoon lies.

Jin is quick to join. “Me too, I think I’ll pass out the moment I hit the pillow.”

You roll your eyes at the men. “Will you two please go fuck already, I know that’s what you’re going to do.”

Namjoon blanches, but Jin laughs and kisses your cheek. “Ah, my smart, beautiful and chaotic child,” he coos. He leans in to your ear, voice low to keep his husband from listening. “I don’t think I’m the only one in this house who’s going to get pounded into a mattress.”  

He pulls back and winks at you, deftly ignores Namjoon’s confusion and sadness of being left out, and drags him to their bedroom with a loud ‘goodnight’.

You’re left to stew in your own emotions, which is never a good thing.  Was the tension that obvious? You always assumed it had been one-sided, but the kiss befuddled you more than you’d like to admit.

It finally snapped in your mind, all the dots connecting. That’s why he did it.  

He kissed you so you’d stew and simmer and eventually erupt, like you’re doing now.  Taehyung knows you too well for your comfort.

You grab your bag of clothes and storm towards the bathroom to change, promising yourself to forget about the kiss and not give Taehyung what he wants.

Except you’re not very good at promises, especially to yourself.

You can’t say you’re excited to sleep on the couch again.  While it’s a nice couch, it’s definitely not a bed and your back will pay the price tomorrow.  You supposed it was better than the floor, but not by much.

After dressing in your pajamas, a purposefully picked out combination of tiny shorts and a sports bra in case Taehyung happens upon you, you return to your bed for the night in the living room.

Namjoon graciously left blankets and a pillow out for you, and you’re complaining internally about Taehyung the whole time you make yourself a spot to sleep.  If it wasn’t for stupid Taehyung and his stupid existence, you’d be sleeping like a baby on the guest bed that you loved.  But no, they relegated you to the couch like an animal.

Sleep was not in the cards tonight, it seems.  You toss and turn and try to press at the cushions to move a lump around and get comfortable, but it’s all for naught.  You’re wide awake and very, very uncomfortable.  You didn’t understand how you fell asleep on this very couch earlier in the day.  Maybe the mimosas you had at brunch with the couple had been helpful.

A thought crosses your mind. Alcohol.  Maybe a nice glass of wine would help tuck you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.  A nightcap. Of course.  You were angry at yourself for not thinking of it hours ago.  

You slipped out of your disagreeable bed and into the kitchen, trying not to make a sound.  Jin’s beloved kitchen was also an echo chamber of noise, even the slightest sound bouncing off its walls and amplifying it through the whole house.  You still remember the way you jumped five feet in the air when Jin accidentally broke a plate.  It sounded like a bomb explosion.

You bite your lip as you carefully pry the cabinet of wine glasses open, careful to not even allow a squeak of a hinge.  You silently beg to stay silent and not wake anyone in the house.  You didn’t want to be caught drinking wine at 2 am in the dark, that’s difficult to explain without looking like an alcoholic.

With glass in hand, you tiptoe the fridge to pull out the bottle of merlot, thinking the heavy red wine would be the best to get you sleepy and quick.  

You tug the cork from the bottle and pour a healthy amount into the stemware with a smile.  Liquid sleep.  And you had done it without making a single sound. Perfection. The smell of the alcohol permeates through your nose as you lift the glass, placing it to your lips to take a sip.

“Wine at this hour?” the unexpected voice of Taehyung echos through the kitchen, making you yelp and jolting you hard enough that you drop the hard-earned glass of wine to the tile floor, red wine splashing as the sound of glass shattering is reverberating off the walls.

“Fuck!” You screech at the intruder.  Taehyung doubles over, laughing as if he’s seen nothing funnier than what just transpired.  “You asshole!”

You listen past Taehyung’s incessant laughter to ensure the owners of the apartment hadn’t awoken during the ruckus. You definitely did not want to face a tired and agitated Jin to tell him you shattered one of his Tiffany crystal goblets.

Beyond Tae, the house is silent and you’re thanking whatever god is listening for keeping your best friends asleep.

The wine is everywhere, spilling into the cracks of the tile and splattered on the walls.  The crystal stemware is too; it shattered with such force that you see flecks of the shrapnel in all four corners of the room.

Tae wipes a tear from his face and you square a tempestuous look at him.  

“Fucking help me!  You made me drop it!”

Through snorts, he replies. “I didn’t make you do anything.  You did that on your own.”  Although he is arguing with you, he’s gingerly stepping into the kitchen and kneeling to pick up shards of glass.

“I wouldn’t have dropped it if you had come into the room like a fucking normal person,” you grit.

He collects the glass, the delighted grin on his face now permanent.  He’s relishing in your annoyance, you know he is, and it burns you from the inside out.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t hear me.”

“You could have turned on the light! Why were you in the dark like a freak?”  You’re grasping at straws, anything to pin this all on him.  It would quell the fire in your belly to push it all onto him, make you feel as if you’ve won.

Taehyung levels a look at you.  “And you weren’t also in the dark? Pouring a gallon of wine for yourself?”

Your cheeks flare red. Fuck, he definitely caught you there.  You’re playing verbal poker with him and the hand you’re dealt falls flat compared to his royal flush.  He grins, knowing he has you.

“Fuck you,” you snark, you go to insult when you’re backed into a corner.

“Ah, doll,” he winks.  “We talked about that.  Be careful what you wish for.”

The fire inside you is roaring to an inferno now, flames licking to your core. It’s a complicated mixture of anger and sexual energy. It’s infuriating that he’s able to make you feel every single emotion to the extreme. You hate that arguing with him turns you on, like it’s some perverse foreplay.  

You moisten your lips with your tongue as you process his words, and Tae’s eyes hungrily track the appendage as it glides over your lips.

“Fuck. You.” You emphasize perfunctorily.

All thoughts of wiping up the mess are forgotten as Tae drags both you and himself off the floor and steers you to the living room, lips feverish against your own.  He pushes you into the couch and tugs his shirt off, before replacing his lips to yours.  

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot when you’re a bitch,” he groans as he snaps the strap of your sports bra. “Seeing you get all worked up makes me so hard.”

He’s not wrong. You can see through his mesh basketball shorts that he’s sporting an impressive package, rock hard in its clothed prison.

“Yeah?” You bite at his lip.

“Hell yeah.”  His hands work to the elastic band under your bust and tugs the offending material off, tits springing free as he throws it to the floor.  

“Holy shit,” Taehyung breathes as he gets a good look at your chest.

You shake them gently, grinning as he watches them jiggle.  “You like what you see?”

He smirks and pinches a nipple, wiping the coy smile off your face and turning it into a moan.  “I like when you’re mouthy, but don’t push it.”  

He lowers his head to the nipple he’s still pinching in his fingers, licking at it and replacing his fingers with his mouth.  He’s moaning around the nipple, and you’re gasping for more.  His hot mouth sucks at you, teeth nibbling and pulling it until you’re whimpering in delicious pain.

“Fuck!” He cries as he pops away from your nipple.  “You’re so fucking hot.”

Your body warms at his words, arousal pooling between your legs.  You’re sure that your thighs are drenched in your essence.

He slurps your neglected breast into his mouth, ensuring your nipples are equally abused.  His tongue is skilled but his mouth is messy, saliva dripping all around your tit and it’s the hottest fucking sight you’ve ever seen.

He’s pulling away again and pinching both nipples with his hands simultaneously. “And you’re so fucking annoying.”

You’re pleading for more or to stop, you’re not sure.  He continues.

“Mm, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re a good little bitch for me. Listening to every fucking thing I say.”

He releases your nipples, and you finally find the ability to focus again, staring directly at him.

“Oh, you think you’re that good?” you sass as you attempt to catch your breath.  “Put your money where your mouth is.”

Tae grips your chin roughly, face inches away from yours with a sadistic grin. “You’re going to regret those words, baby.”

Instantly, he’s standing up and tugging his shorts down to let his cock spring free.  Your brain misfires as you visually measure his cock and your mouth goes dry. He’s thick and long. The bulbous head is dripping pre-cum, begging you to slurp it up.

“How about I put my money where your mouth is,” he suggests as he grabs a fistful of your hair.  

He teasingly rubs his cock on your lips and cheeks, makes you whimper with need. Your tongue is sticking out, desperate for him to lay it on you.

“Already so fucking greedy,” he grunts and in one motion, directs his dick into your open mouth. “I’ll fuck your throat, yeah? Greedy bitches love getting face fucked.”  He is still for a beat more, eyes searching yours for consent and you nod with his cock still in your mouth. He winks, then begins a rapid pace, his cock fucking into your mouth and throat.

You’re sure you look like a goddamn mess with saliva dripping from your mouth as Taehyung punishes your throat with his thrusts.  You gag and moan around him, and he tightens his grip in your hair as you see stars.

It’s indescribable. Never have you felt such pleasure from sucking cock, but Tae commands your entire body, willing you to drip with anticipation.

“My little fuck toy, god you feel so fucking good,” he hisses. “You’re gonna swallow my cum, baby.”  

His hips are stuttering, he’s close, and you’re sucking him harder, cheeks pulling in harder to vacuum him in. The pressure makes him groan out loud.

“So good, so fucking good. Get ready for your prize, baby,” his voice cuts off in a gasp, as his cock twitches violently. His legs shake and he doesn’t hold back the moans of his orgasm, gasping as he feels rope after rope spill down your hot throat.

Your big doll eyes are twinkling up at him, lips still wrapped around his cock. Taehyung is sure it’s the hottest thing he’ll ever see in his lifetime.  You on your knees, subservient to him and thriving for it.

“Mmm, I like it when your mouth is full like this,” he slowly pulls out of your mouth, albeit reluctantly. “Can’t talk back to me when you’re sucking my cock like a whore.”

You smile and stick out your tongue, pleased to show him you happily accepted his cum.

“Good fucking girl,” he coos as he grips your chin again. “Did you like my cum?”

You nod, brain fried from the heat of the room.

“Use your words,” he grits and grips your jaw harder. It’s enough to shock you into compliance.

“Y-yes! Fuck, I love your cum, Tae.”  Your words are breathy and raspy, throat raw from his barrage.

“I knew you would, filthy slut.  Sit on the couch.” He orders and you’re quick to scurry and sit on the makeshift bed you made.

His hands are tugging down your shorts quickly. No teasing or seduction here, not now. You lift your hips, and he throws them aside. Your legs close on reflex, making him growl.

“Do not hide yourself from me.” His tone is dark and you can’t help but shiver as you open yourself up to him. You want to talk back, want to fight and bite at him, but you’re quickly losing the ability to even speak, and you’re aching for him.

“Where’s my mouthy little bitch? You’re awfully quiet. Did I finally break you?” He teases, pressing your legs upward, knees to your ears. It’s pornographic how on display you are for him, soaking wet cunt front and center.

“The great Taehyung thinks he can break me with his cock,” you mewl, mustering all the false confidence you can. You’re lying through your fucking teeth and you both know it, but you continue. “You’ll have to do more than that.”

Your pussy is quaking with need now, desperate for a single touch. His hands maintain purchase on the backs of your thighs, holding them up.

“There she is,” he bites at the flesh of your leg closest to him which makes you jerk in his hold. “Gonna fuck the brat right out of you.”

He removes a hand from your thigh and you’re quick to pick up the slack, holding the thigh in place to maintain his open show of your pussy.

“Try me,” you murmur, and you’re instantly regretting your words as a harsh slap descends and lands square on your cunt.

You nearly scream, pain flooding your wanton pussy, before turning into delicious pleasure that stings and tingles right at your clit. It sizzles, and warmth blooms where his hand was.

“That’s for not believing me.”  His eyes are feral and you want to bottle this memory forever.  

Another slap has your legs trembling, eyes rolling back as the burn turns to a low heat.  You’re dripping your wetness down onto the couch and Jin will kill you, but you don’t care.

“That was for calling me a dick,” he smirks.

Smack.

Tears spring in your eyes as the slap brings more pleasure than pain, desperately close to your edge.

“Look at you, you could cum just from this, couldn’t you?”

“F-fuck! Yes, please, I need more, please!” Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for friction and leaking out of you like a faucet. Taehyung marvels at you, legs spread so far, with a cunt weeping with arousal for more. He can’t wait to dive in there, but he’s not finished with you yet.

“More? I don’t know if you deserve more, baby, you’ve been awfully mean to me,” he tsks, breathing hot air on your clit, making you whine.

“P-please! I’m sorry!” You’re sure you will black out with how desperately you need him. You need him more than you need oxygen.

“Beg.”

You’re quick to submit. Thoughts of fighting back are long gone, you’re his wanton little slut now.

“Please, please! Pleaseeeee, make me cum! I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” He asks with an arch of his eyebrow.

You’re nodding wildly, gazing at him with desperate, watery eyes.

“Anything, I need you so f-fucking bad it hurts!”

By the time the words leave your lips, he’s thrusting two fingers into your cunt viciously, fingering you ferociously. He arches them, rubbing against your spongy g-spot and making you scream. He knows you’re close, knows you only need one little push off the edge. He plays your body like a skilled practitioner.

“Cum on my fingers, baby. Let me see my greedy little bitch milk my fingers.”

Your body and mind react accordingly, deep down you know your body is owned completely by him, all his.  Your orgasm explodes and you think you actually scream, your vision is black and your hearing goes silent for a moment as you cum harder than you have in your life.  You’re squeezing his fingers with your pussy so tight and Taehyung is gently licking all the juices from his hand with his fingers still inside you.

It takes time to descend from the separate plane of existence Taehyung sent you too, but you come back and watch as he laps at the liquid of your cunt and on his hand like it’s a vital necessity. His fingers remain in your walls, and he refuses to break eye contact with you. You’re positive you could cum again from the sight.

“My little cockslut tastes so good, just how I like,” he tells you tenderly. “Like cherries, so sweet.  My little cherry.”

Your cunt is aching and warming back to life as he pulls his fingers out of you. The loss is immense and you’re whimpering for more.

“Ah, ah,” he hushes you. “No whining. You’ll take what I give you.  Suck my fingers clean. Taste yourself.”

He presses his fingers into your mouth, earning him a sigh, the taste of you filling your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers and suckle each one to ensure your tongue laves the entire surface.

“Fuck,” he whispers and it’s his first crack in his steel reserve. “Needy.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and presses against you to kiss. It’s gentle, sweet, and nothing compared to the man assailing your pussy with slaps moments ago. It thrills you just the same and you return in kind, threading your hands in his wavy hair.

He pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, a moment of gentleness you actively welcome.

“This little cunt ready for me?” He whispers and you’re whimpering your reply.

“Please, fuck me. I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your lips again, sweet and chaste, before he pulls away and slides down to attach those same sinful lips to your pussy.

It’s so unexpected you flinch and manage a cry as his tongue slurps up more of your delicious essence and his mouth moves to suckle on your clit. You’re not sure where the fuck he learned these tricks, but you know now you will never let him go.

“Taehyung!” You cry at the sensation. “Fuck!”

After receiving the reaction he was desperate for, he slips his tongue into your walls deep and gathers as much of you as he can, before he’s pulling back and swallowing you down.

“I couldn’t resist. Your cunt was made for me to devour.”

He doesn’t allow for a response as he throws your legs over his shoulders and lines himself up at your core.

“Condom?” He asks you, and you level a quick look at him.

“I don’t live here! I don’t have any!”  You’re savage, terrified he’ll pull his cock away when all you want and can think about is the way he’ll feel pounding into you.

“Don’t be rude, baby,” he reminds you with a swat to your ass. “I’m clean, promise. You?”

You nod quickly, reveling in the spank’s tingle. “Same. I have an IUD too,” you sigh. Thank god for medical birth control implants.

“Good. You’re the only pussy I’m gonna fuck from now on,” he promises. You know you must talk about this later, when you’re thinking rationally and not with your aching pussy.  

Your heart stutters and leaps into your throat but all is forgotten as he plunges into your tight heat.

“Ohhhhh shit, ahhh,” he gasps. “Baby, you’re so fucking tight and wet.”  He’s on the verge of whining, becoming just as needy and greedy as you.  He wastes no time in setting a pace.

His cock fills you completely, his angle allowing him to go as deep as he can, pressing the beginning of your cervix.  This is surely what heaven feels like.  It feels like the completeness you feel with Taehyung fully sheathed inside you.

It comes alive with flames and explosions as he fucks you, hips pistoning to plunge in and out of you with tenacity.  He fucks you like he laces every single thrust with more, more than just sex. He fucks you with purpose.

You’re moaning like a pornstar now, high pitch wails and gasps and breathy moans are all you can manage. “Taehyung, yes! Feel so g-g-good!”

“That’s right baby, scream my fucking name. Make sure all the neighbors know who fucking ruined you,” he nearly spits, cock thrusting into your core at an impossible speed. “I want you to tell all of Korea who owns you. Who owns this tiny little cunt?”

The wind leaves you, and you’re gasping for air, gaping mouth open as you try to reply. It takes him fucking into you harder a few times before you feel it rush back into you.

“You, Taehyung!  You!  Fuck, I love your cock!”

His thumb rubs at your engorged clit, allowing it the friction it seeks.  He bends forward and wraps his other hand around your throat, squeezing.  

Losing air combined with the friction on your clit has you keening, so close to the edge. You try to babble his name but nothing comes out.

“Look at my pretty little slut taking my cock so well,” he praises.  “You have the greediest pussy, don’t you? You need my cock daily, baby. Need to put my mouthy bitch in her place, remind her who’s in charge.”

He slows his pace but his thrusts are punishing, fucking into you as hard as he can. Your orgasm is climbing so impossibly high.

“F-fuck!” You gasp as he releases his grip on your neck. “Gonna cum! Please let me cum!”  

“Yeah baby, cum for me.  Cream your greedy pussy all over my cock.”

The world stops spinning as you hit the height of your climax and plunge down.  Your vision goes black and your body is quivering and convulsing nearly as hard as your cunt is. Taehyung hisses at your walls sucking him in, as if you’re begging for his cum, begging for more.

“Fuck, good girl, baby, holy shit,” he’s breathless and so close.

You’re overstimulated, boneless, but he wrought two of the best orgasms you’ve ever felt in your life and you’ll be damned if you leave him high and dry.  You bite your lip as you move with him, hips pounding against each other. His face is scrunched up and you know he’s close when he’s stuttering on his words.  You take over for him.

“Please cum in me baby, please.  Fill me up. I’m yours, baby, mark my little cunt as yours.”  You don’t know where it’s coming from, but you keep it going. It feels as natural as fucking him does. “Please, Taehyung!”

At the sound of his name leaving you in a whine, he spirals down his own completion. He feels his cock pulse as he empties his load into you, your walls still reverently beckoning for him. He’s calling out your name, grasping at your tits as he finishes and you’re smiling from ear to ear. Your pussy is warm with his seed and you’re positive it’s the way you want to feel every single night.

“Holy fuck,” Taehyung rasps as he pulls his cock out of you. He thrills as he watches his cum follow, slipping out your folds and down your thigh. “I definitely marked you.”

You hum in reply, finally allowing yourself to soak in the haze of orgasmic bliss. Tae presses his head to yours again, kissing you sweetly.

“Come sleep in my bed?” He asks. He means more behind it. He wants to ask you to sleep in his bed every night, stay with him every day, be the one he grows old with. He knows there’s still more to talk about, wounds of the past to heal, but now you’re with him, and he knows he’ll work through anything.

You nod, and kiss him again, understanding his hidden meaning laced in his words.

A sly smile spreads across his face. “Last one to bed has to take the blame for the wineglass,” he teases. Your head spins as if you’ve got whiplash.  He can switch from dominating to sensitive to the little shit he is so quick.

“Hey! No fucking fair! You fucked my ability to run out of me!”

“Shouldn’t have been such a sassy bitch,” he winks before he tears away towards his room.

“Taehyung, you’re an asshole!” You call as you limp your way behind him.

From behind Joon and Jin’s door, a critical voice bellows, “YAH! I’ll kill you if you got your jizz on my couch! And what is this I heard about my glass!!? HEY!  Those are TIFFANY. CRYSTAL. THE DISRESPECT!”

You slip into Taehyung’s bed and wrap yourself around him, the two of you gasping with mischievous giggles.

Kim Taehyung will always be the one who knows how to drive you wild. He’ll always aggravate and infuriate you, send you reeling.

But now you didn’t think you minded it at all.

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[minthysugamon]

Why'd you only call me when you're high? (J.JK x Reader)

Drummer! Jungkook x Manager's daughter! Reader.

Warnings: Mentions of sex,drugs and alcohol. Usage of foul language (like in most of my writings bc i talk like a roadman). Friends with benefits type of relationship. Kinda angsty but also fluffy if you search for the fluff with a magnifying glass.

Word count: 2222 (hehe,angel number go brr)

A/N: I promise,i will try to do some smut but i don't feel comfy enough to write it bc idk...i just cringe when i see my writing. So sorry if it isn't what you guys expect...

3:03 am

Your phone buzzed once again. It was for the 6th time tonight in a row,so even without looking at the device,it was safe to assume that the rockstar your dad managed was probably at some pub,hammered and not even being able to call a cab for himself so he called your number. Like usual. 3:04 am. It rang again. "What? It better be an emergency cause i swear to god if you're calling because you're dru-" his laugh was as intoxicating as the liquor he had sipped on some minutes ago. "Doll,listen...i need a ride...and since your dad is our manager,it would be greatly appreciated if you came for me..." a sigh left your lips as you hang up on him.

But Jungkook didn't stop pestering you. The drummer of V2J was a pain in the ass. As shy and awkward he was in his sober times,his horndog behaviour was equalising if not surpassing his normal behaviour when he was thrashed.

You picked up the call one more time when the familiar ringtone went off. "Hey,why are you so rude,dollface? Don't you know hangin-" your words cut off his as soon as he was trying to do his monologue. "Jungkook. Like how you said it so cleverly,MY DAD is the manager. Not me. Pester him at 3 am if you have some difficulties to go home,not his daughter. Thank you. I have an exam in two days, i have to study tomorrow. Or today because at this point of the night i can't say tomorrow,so let me get the 2 hours of sleep i could still get tonight if i go to sleep in less than 10 minutes.. Leave me alone. Call Taehyung or something,i don't care. Now please don't call me again. Thanks." Then the tune of the "Hang Up" option resonated in your room once again.

Truth be told, if it would've been the first time he calls you and asks you for help at 3 in the morning,you would've helped his dumbass out,but it wasn't the case. Whenever Jungkook had some nightly problems, you were the first target in his contact list. It wasn't the first time he called you to pick him up from somewhere or to let him stay at your place for the night because he lost his keys to his appartment after a wild escapade with his bandmates to the nearest club. And it never ended with him only sleeping on your couch. It usually started at the front door and ended with him sleeping an arm around you after fucking your brains out. If he had been serious about this whole weird relationship you had, it would've been official for more than a year now,but he has to keep his rockstar persona intact. So of course,you were nothing more than the daughter of his manager who was good enough to be fucked when he was drunk or high.

At 3:36,someone rang at the interphone of your home. When you got up from your bed with a huff,you were already seeing the tatted up boy's smirk on the camera in a mental image. And you weren't wrong. His smirk was present as soon as the little screen had lit up with his face so close to it,you though he was a toddler seeing an interphone for the first time in his life. "You really came here at 3 and a half? Jeon,for fucks sake. If i get down there,i'mma beat some sense into you,so you better start running now." He simply laughed,a noise of exasperation leaving his throat. "Aw...come on (Y/n)...let me in,i lost my keys..."

You pushed on the key button,you let him in again. At this point it was exthausing because you knew what this meant. And even if you wanted to deny it,your brain wanted this to stop,but your heart was yearning for him. "I swear to god Jungkook,if you come here again at 3 am,i will stick a pipe up your ass." You unlocked the door for him and let him enter your home.

Fatal mistake because he didn't even answer,he simply pushed you against the wall and looked into your eyes,foreheads touching. "And why would you do that sweetheart? Hm? I thought you liked when i come here...for you." You can't deny it,you fell for him over the months,you fell for this idiot who liked banana milk more than anything else,who drank whisky with more cola than he should because he hated alcohol but wanted to keep his bad boy persona. But the smell of a woman on him made your heart sink. "Jungkook,please...just go and take of your shoes,i will bring you a blanket and a pillow so you can sleep on the couch."

He took your words in a hurtful way,his expression changed from flirty to genuinely hurt. "So...we aren't sleeping together like always?" You scoffed and got out of his grip. "I don't even know why i let you in. If you wanted to get your dick sucked again,you could've called one of your groupies." You disappeared in your room to search for a blanket and pillow,not that you deemed him deserving of such comfort,but he was also keen to be shivering at night without a blanket so it would be better for him to get some warmth during the dark hours. With a shaky breath,you went back to the living room and placed the pillow and comforter on the couch. "(Y/n)...what's the matter?" No answer. You didn't want to answer his question,he wasn't worthy for an answer,but his insistance was made clear when he took your hand into his and brought you closer to him. "Please...(Y/n)...answer me,i'm getting worried at this point,what's the matter?" Inhaling some fresh oxygen as the lump in your throat was only getting tighter,it finally dawned on you. You were in love with him. "Why'd you only call me when you're high?" The tears started to sting in your eyes,the drummer looked at you with a questioning expression. "High? What do you mean?" "Why'd you only call me and come here when your high?" After repeating your previous question,your voice cracked and all tears were let to flow down on your cheeks. "What? (Y/n) i really don't understand what you're talking about." "Why are you only showing interest in me when you're drunk and need to empty your balls. Is it more clear like that?" Jungkook's heart cracked at the sight of you crying because of him. He didn't want you to fall for him,not when he's at the peak of his career,but it would be a lie to say he didn't feel something for you.

"(Y/n)...come on,you know i can't be with someone. I thought that we both made this clear." His tattoed arms were still securely wrapped around you,stroking your back in the hopes of the action giving you some comfort,but as soon as you looked up to him with teary eyes,he couldn't help but let his waterworks flow too. Truth be told,Jungkook hated to see you sad,as awkward as the situation was right now,he hated seeing the one he fell for sad. "No,you made it clear for yourself. You're always acting nice with me,always closing any distance we had between us...no matter how hard i try to stay away from you,you suffocate me...if it was with hatred,it would be better,but it isn't. You're always here to fuck me up then rebuild me once you're sober. I fucking hate you for making me fall for you but i hate myself more for letting myself fall for you."

Your words were stinging. Even poisonous to his ears. Did you really hate him? And as much as it hurt him,it hurt you the same. You never really saw someone else in the hopes of being his one day,you won't blame it on him because you were the one in control of your own life,but every step you declined from someone else was to aliment the hope of being his one day. "I'm sorry...(Y/n)...i...i know you like me...but it won't work out. I do see you as more than just a friend with benefits,i do like you too...but...i can't be with you when i don't even know what tomorrow is made of." You tried to get out of his grip,but it only tightened and he brought your chin up with two fingers. "Listen,don't think i don't like you...if i didn't..you wouldn't be the first one i call to help me,fuck,i know i sound like an asshole for saying this but i do like you...i just..." he was getting ridiculous at this point and he knew it. "You just what? You don't want to miss out on someone else. I get it. You want your target list to be finished then crawl back to me when you're done."  "(Y/n) it's not like tha-" you finally got out of his grip. "No. Don't say anything. I get it. But i won't be a second choice to anyone. Let alone you. Good night." You quickly wiped your tears away and went to your room,closing the door behind yourself,leaving Jungkook alone,in the dark living room.

He was tossing and turning for more than an hour now. You could hear it from your room how he was walking up and down the hall. 'I really fucked up.' he thought to himself and he wasn't wrong. You were probably the only person who would really go to hell and back for him and you were the only person he would do the same for. Then why was he acting like an asshole towards you now? Now that he was sure of your feelings,why did he have to break everything he tried to build? It couldn't end like that.

He softly knocked on your door,even if you told him to go away,he opened the door and lied down next to you,taking your body in his arms,nuzzling his face into the skin of your neck. "I'm sorry..." his soft lips placed a kiss on your neck and hands grabbed yours. "Sorry for what? For at least telling me the truth?" "(Y/n)...it's not like that...i just don't want to fuck things up. I prefer to fuck it up now than once we're together. I...i do love you...i heard the bells and the fireworks as soon as i saw you...but i don't want to fuck this up. Simply because i know how fans are,how groupies are. I prefer you seeing my fuckboy image than the real me,as much as i hate it though." You turned around,facing him,still in his clutch. "Well too late dumbass,i fell for the awkward and nice you,the one i see during studio hours,during practice,not this...whole flirty fuckboy persona that i get to see at every thursday at 3 am." He inhaled then kissed your forehead,bringing you closer to him. "It's too late for me to ask you to be my girlfriend...right? I don't want things to end...and,if the only way for me to stay with you is to put that image aside,i'm willing to do it."  You sighed. He was still in the wrong. You didn't want him to change for you,but for him. To be himself again. "Jungkook,you don't understand...i want you to be you. I don't want you to rush into things because you don't want to lose me. Plus,you might not like a relationship,so if you don't want one right now,then leave me alone and don't make me fall for you more."

He shut you up before you could go on your monologue with a kiss. Not a rushed one like usually. But a soft one. One that tasted like cigarettes,monster,alcohol and love. "I love you...and starting a relationship now...or in 5 years...it won't change shit...no matter what i think now. I...after thinking about it...what you said...you're right. If i don't jump in right now...what will it change in 2 or 5 years? Nothing...i will still be the same if i don't change now." His frown turned into a small smile when he felt your nose in his neck,a light peck on his skin and your hands on his back. "So...you really want to start something with me...out of love and not out of pity?" He smacked the back of your head,out of habit but also out of outrage,he didn't want you to think he was doing this out of pity. "You dumbass,i want to be with you. I really want to. Out of love. Not because i pity you. You are probably the only person who would accept my headassery...and i love you. So please...don't ever think i would do this brcause of pity." You simply laughed,still sniffing a little bit and cupped his cheeks. "Good,because...i love you too." He kissed you first,again. Now with more passion though. His hands roaming around your back and ribcage,then on your waist,he couldn't help but pull you closer,until it couldn't be done anymore. "I know you do...now...shouldn't we sleep..? Because it's half past five...and you have to wake up at 10 so you can study..." You kissed his neck once more then placed your head on his chest. "It's already almost 6..might as well watch some cartoons and eat breakfast,no?" Jungkook's face lit up like a child's at the candy store. "Now i know why i heard the bells and the fireworks when i saw you."

I hope you guys enjoyed this,i kinda made it longer than most of my writings,but i still hope it's okay!

My requests are always open,so please,if you have something to request,i am more than happy to do it!

[alit0my]

if you're still taking prompts: while in exile Booker dies some death that fucks his brain a bit and makes him lose his memories in a weird way. The team steps in to take care of him in order to prevent the secret from coming out and just care for him bc they still love him. And Booker doesn't remember them but still has FEELINGS from before. And one day he tells them all "I don't remember who any of you are, but I do know that I love you all SO MUCH" and the team is stunned and like "OH GOD"

im always taking prompts anon ;-) i hope you like this!

~

Andy’s cell phone rang in the middle of the night, waking the others as the ringtone blared through the small sleeping quarters. Quickly, she picked up the phone and murmured her apology to the team. 

“Copley? It’s four am, what’s going on?” Andy spoke, knowing the man was on the other end. He was the only person who had the number after all.

“Andy. I’m sorry, but this couldn’t wait until morning. It’s Booker,” Copley said with an urgent tone. “He’s been injured.” 

Andy sat up a bit straighter in her bed, resting against the headboard. “He’s not healing?” 

The others became more awake at her words, glancing at each other in alarm. Booker was still young, there was no way he wasn’t healing.

“Somewhat. I sent him on a simple job to get intel and it went to shit,” Copley sighed. “It’s his memories, they seem to not have returned to him when he woke, and I’m worried that will cause unwanted trouble.” 

Andy’s breath hitched in her throat, her grip on the burner phone tightening. “How far back does he recall?” 

“He thinks he’s back in Marseille, 1800’s. Unsure of the exact year I’m afraid” 

“He’s looking for his family,” Andy cursed quietly, nodding at the others to get ready to leave. “Where is he now? Do you have an address?” 

“I’ll send it through. I’m also not sure if he remembers you, so I’d be weary about busting the door down and putting him on the defensive foot straight away.” 

Andy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Alright, thanks Copley.” 

“What’s happened?” Nicky asked, zipping up his duffel bag. Andy stood and swung her own duffel bag over her shoulder, grabbing the car keys off the bedside table. 

“I’ll explain on the way.”

~

Sebastien stood in front of the land that once held his family home. Finding it an empty field of tall grass made him furrow his brows in confusion. Where was Claire? Louis? Michel? Jean-Pierre? Had they moved and not told him? Surely he hadn’t been away for too long to have the house pulled down and grass to grow. 

He watched as groups of people walked past him, not paying him any mind. Frowning, he tried to find something he could identify in his surroundings, but came up short. 

“Excuse me, can you tell me what happened to my home?” He asked a group that walked by, earning him strange looks. 

“Sir, that has been a vacant block for as long as I can remember. There hasn’t been a property there for years,” One of them replied, smiling even though they were confused. Their answer only made Sebastien just as bewildered. 

“What do you mean? What is the date today?” 

“Um,” the stranger pulled a flat object out of their pocket and then put it back just as quickly. “27th of October, 2036.” 

“20- No, that’s not-” 

Something buzzed in his pocket which cut him off. He reached in, pulling out a contraption that looked familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was called. He gave the stranger his thanks as they walked off, and the thing still buzzed in his hand, so he flipped it open and brought it to his ear. It seemed like the right thing to do with the object. 

“Booker?” A man’s voice came through, shocking Sebastien. How was this possible? 

“Who are you? Who is Booker?” He spoke in French. “Where is my family?” 

He waited impatiently before the other man replied in shaky but understandable French. “Sebastien, my apologies. I understand you might be feeling lost, but I have people on the way to help you.” 

“Who? I don’t want help! I want my wife and children!” He shouted, throwing his hands in the air. 

“I understand, but right now you need to get to the address I’m going to send you. Can you manage that?” 

Sebastien pulled the phone away from his ear as the object buzzed once more. The address that appeared on the screen wasn’t too far from where he was. 

“Sebastien?” 

Bringing the phone to his ear once more, he nodded. “I-I will be there.” 

~

Sebastien walked up to the door of the address the man had sent him, finding the key under the course mat outside. Walking into the house, he was greeted with four strangers. Halting at the entrance, fingers still gripping the doorknob tightly, he chuckled awkwardly. 

“I think- I might be in the wrong place,” he stammered, the French slurring together as he rushed the words. “So sorry.” 

“Nonsense,” the older woman spoke in perfect French. “Come in. We are here to help you.” 

Sebastien hesitantly closed the door behind him as he stared at the group. The two men sat together on the couch, a little too close for what was normal with their knees touching. The younger woman had dark skin and tight braids falling over her shoulders, and the other woman had short hair, like his own. Sebastien blinked and shoved his shaky hands into his pockets. These people seemed familiar to him, but he didn’t know how. 

“You can’t help me unless you know what happened to my family,” he whispered and cast his eyes to the floor, missing the knowing looks shared between the strangers. 

“Book- Sebastien, your family is standing right in front of you.”

He looked up and scoffed. “Non, unless I gained two daughters and my wife cheated on me with darker men, you are not my family.” 

He saw the man with curly hair clench his fists and the young woman clench her jaw. He had hit a nerve, but he was unaware of why. 

“Okay, let’s start with our names, no? I’m Andromache,” the fair woman spoke again, gaining his attention once more. “Everyone calls me Andy.” 

“Nile,” the dark woman said.

“Nicolo,” he said with a strong Italian accent.

“Yusuf,” was said with a curt nod. 

None of the names brought Sebastien any closer to figuring out what the hell was happening. At his blank face, Andromache spoke once more. 

“Can I ask what year you think it is?” 

“1807,” he replied, and he gauged their reactions. 

“Alright,” Andromache nodded, chewing at her bottom lip. “Well, we’re here to help you remember. But I think we should start with dinner?” 

’Remember what?’ Sebastien thought, but nodded, which set everything into motion. 

~

He had learned that they called him Booker. He was unsure as to why, and they refused to tell him, so he paid it no mind. They shared stories of their time together, leaving out his betrayal all those years ago, but Sebastien couldn’t remember any of it, and nothing was flashing in his mind as a reminder. 

Months passed and Winter settled over France, sending chills through Sebastien’s bones even when he was seated in front of the woodfire with a woolen jumper wrapped around him. His fingers shook as he flipped the pages of the novel he was reading and he grunted in frustration, placing the book down by his side and sticking his hands out in front of him, closer to the fire to warm them. 

Sebastien frowned as he absently stared at his hands in front of the flames. He remembered that he loved the cold, playing in the snow and building snowmen with his siblings, all of them returning home with noses and ears flushed red, so he couldn’t understand why he felt so cold now. 

Yusuf -Joe- sat down next to him and silently offered to share the blanket that was wrapped around his shoulders. Only hesitating for a moment, Sebastien scooted closer to Joe and leant into the warmth that radiated off him, feeling the blanket wrap around his shoulders and Joe’s hand squeeze his arm. 

It felt familiar, friendly, loving. 

“Did we ever tell you about Russia?” Joe asked quietly, keeping his eyes on the flames. At the shake of Booker’s head, he continued. “It’s where you first died in 1812, fighting for Napoleon.” 

Booker closed his eyes and tried to remember, but nothing came to mind. He felt frustrated, surely memories would have started to seep through back into his mind, but nothing ever did. Instead, he rested his head on Joe’s shoulder and snuggled closer to him. 

“You.. You were hung for desertion, and you hung for three days before the Grande Armee left camp. We didn’t find you until you were nearly back to France,” Joe spoke softly, and Sebastien could listen to his voice forever. “A Russian winter can be so utterly cruel, and your immortality made you suffer over and over while your comrades succumbed to death. It is why you feel the phantom cold as you are, and a few years ago we discovered that they stop when you are cuddling with one of us as we are now.” 

Sebastien thought over the new information. Fighting for Napoleon in Russia? Surely not.

He didn’t mind the cuddles though. 

“I’m sorry I don’t remember any of you,” Sebastien spoke, voice breaking through it’s lack of use. He found himself not speaking much, preferring to listen to the stories his friends told him and asking questions when he got lost. 

“Nonsense, Bastien.” Joe ran his hand through Sebastien’s hair softly. “We’re here to help you remember, no matter how long it takes.” 

~

The pair had moved to the couch by the time the others had returned home from their shopping, Nile being adamant about having a big dinner for Christmas in a few days. Sebastien was curled into Joe’s side with the blanket still wrapped around them both, and he felt himself flush at the looks they got from the others. 

Nicolo -Nicky, now, remember?- smiled and walked over, kissing both Joe and Sebastien on the cheek in greeting, before crouching down in front of them. “How are you doing, Bas?” 

“Better. Joe is rather warm,” Sebastien replied, curling further into said man’s warmth. 

“He is, isn’t he,” Nicky chuckled softly, grabbing Sebastien’s hands and rubbing his thumbs over the cool palms. “Nile is cooking dinner tonight. Don’t tell her, but I don’t have much faith in her.” 

Sebastien laughed loudly before burying his face in Joe’s neck as Nile rounded the corner with a faux annoyed look on her face. “Hey! I’m a good cook!” 

Nicky moved to sit on Sebastien’s other side, and rolled his eyes playfully. “I’m sure you are, Nile. That soup you made a few weeks ago was seriously under seasoned.” 

“How dare you! Never in my life would I have imagined a white man telling me I’ve under seasoned my food!” Nile scoffed, but it had become their thing to tease the other about their dinners, so Sebastien didn’t intervene. He had each and every dynamic sorted out by now, and he knew this was playful. 

He felt warmth blossom from his chest as he watched them interact, playfully jabbing at the use of spices and ingredients in Nile’s failed soup attempt, and a grin spread across his lips. Sebastien truly felt at home with these people, they made him feel safe and happy and were always there for him.

He didn’t let himself think that maybe it was because of his memories no longer being with him. He didn’t want to tarnish the few months they’ve had together by believing they didn’t want to be around him. 

He was brought out of his thoughts by a dishtowel hitting him flush in the face. “Hey!” 

“Sorry Book! I was aiming for Nicky!” Nile laughed as the towel fell short when he threw it back to her. Andy had joined them in the room, opting to sit on the armrest of the single recliner with a glass of water in her hands. Sebastien didn’t know what it was about the woman that drew these deep feelings out of him, but he didn’t shy away from them. He didn’t shy away from anything he was feeling towards this little group he found himself in. 

“You good?” Andy asked across the room, making eye contact with the Frenchman. Sebastien thought for a moment, going back to how he fit into this little family, and he nodded, smiling as Nile entered the room with a tray of biscuits. 

“I may not remember who any of you are, but I do know that I love you all, so very much.” 

~ 

Weeks passed and Sebastien -non, Booker- still remembered the looks on his family’s faces as he told them he loves them. The amount of tears spilled that night would have filled the Seine, and he wouldn’t change it for the world. They had ended up in a dogpile on the couch, holding each other close and whispering words of affirmation to each other, promises were made and love was shared. 

Waking up the next morning with a stiff neck but surrounded by the four most important people in his life was worth it. 

Booker woke with a jolt, breathing heavy as he orientated himself. Still surrounded by four bodies, all still and silent, he closed his eyes again and took a few deep breaths. His dream was strange to say the least, with all five of them shooting their way out of an extremely white building, with flashes of being strapped to a plinth in a lab fighting to stay in Booker’s recollection. What on earth had happened?

“Book? Are you okay?” Nicky whispered as he shifted by his side. “Hey, you’re safe.” 

“I know, I know, I just.. I had a weird dream,” Booker whispered back, shimmying a hand out from the blanket that was still wrapped around himself and Joe, to rub at his face. 

“Tell me?” 

Booker paused. “We were fighting in a building. It was really white and there were a lot of corridors, and so many bodies. I’m getting flashes of us strapped down to tables also,” he stopped as he gauged Nicky’s face, which had turned sour. “W-What did I do?” 

He heard a soft curse from his other side which drew his attention to Andy. “Of course the one thing you remember is the worst possible,” she mumbled and sat up. 

“What did I do?” Booker repeated. If he had caused them pain, then that changed everything. 

“Something that you have already paid for,” Nicky grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “It was a painful yet brief moment in our lives, but you need not worry about it anymore.” 

Booker frowned but nodded. He didn’t want to argue so he kept his mouth shut, but that didn’t stop him from searching his brain for answers. 

~

The team had taken up a job from Copley, who Booker discovered was the man who had called him that day in Marseille, and were infiltrating a small terrorist hideout. It was meant to be easy; a stakeout had meant that no resistance should have been present when they attacked, but alas, nothing is ever that easy.

Upon extraction, they had been ambushed by a few terrorists who had returned, and all hell broke loose. Bullets flew through the air and swords hacked away at bodies, and they almost made it out without a casualty. 

Almost.

Booker was shot in the chest and went down. He felt the warmth spread under his clothes and he dropped to his knees, feeling dizzy and the world went black. 

Joe cursed and pulled Booker’s body into an alcove, hiding them from the gunfire. Joe had his gun in his hands, half watching Booker and half looking for any threats coming their way. Andy had reached their location and stood guard as Nile and Nicky joined them, guns still raised in case they had to use them. 

Joe grabbed Booker’s hand and squeezed it, praying silently for his friend’s return to life. He waited anxiously and glanced at Nicky, who had the same look of despair on his face. Joe counted the minutes, praying harder as it went over five. 

“C’mon, Booker,” Andy whispered, nudging the man’s arm with her boot gently. “You’re still in this game with me, remember?” 

A moment passes, and with a gasp the Frenchman sucked in a breath and opened his eyes, frantically searching for his family. Not needing to look far, he immediately calmed at the sight of them altogether. 

“Hey,” he grinned, looking at them all. “Hey Boss.” 

Andy let out a strangled sound and knelt down beside him, encasing him in the tightest hug he thinks he’s ever received from her. 

“You asshole. It’s not your fault but you’re an asshole,” she mumbled as they pulled away. “Is everything back? Do you remember everything?” 

Booker nodded as he quickly ran through his brain, picking out key moments in his life that shaped him for the better and for the worse. “I’m all here, Boss.” 

Booker had the breath knocked out of him as Joe hugged him tight, and he laughed softly, returning it in earnest. 

“If all you had to do was die to get your memories back I would have shot you myself!” Joe huffed as he pulled away, smiling as he picked up his gun that was dropped by his feet. 

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Nile interrupted. “But we’re in the middle of a terrorist camp. Can we have a happy reunion when we are, I don’t know, safe?”

Booker laughed and stood with the help of Joe and Nicky and he raised his rifle, fighting with the team seamlessly as they escaped the compound. 

Back at the safehouse, they showered each other in tight hugs and shared memories and alcohol, toasting to their love for one another as they drank the night away.

~

Available on AO3 also: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26527225 

[ddaenggtan]

Backalley Brawl | myg | M

This is....just as unedited as 666 medici lmao, but! Here, have this! It takes place in the same universe as the 666 medici drive fic, so this is the same MC, just...with a different friend lol. I'm lowkey hype because the more people you meet in this verse, the more I get to play with them, and they're some of my favorite characters I've ever come up with. 

Also shoutout to @strawbxxymilk​ bc its her birthday!!! I was going to write a jungoo fic for it, bUT NO im not gonna, i decided to be benevolent and let the renkook agenda stay on hold for a single day :)))

Word Count | 3.5k, I think?

Warnings | This is pure pwp, I'm not kidding, absolute filth. Semi-public sex, deepthroating, facefucking, gagging, yoongi’s kind of a dom??, unprotected sex (ur not a vampire or a werewolf, wrap your johnsons), rough sex i think, breeding kink, f masturbation (kind of?), cumplay, mention of knots, yoongi got a phat ****, degradation, i think thats it?? Idk tbh my brains p fried from finishing this

The smell of wet dog has been following you all night; from when you got up and went to Joon’s shop to tease him a little while ordering an arrangement, to the store to order food for your pet, the club to handle some business and find a satisfying meal, and even now as you wander the sidestreets and backalleys in an attempt to either lose your apparent shadow or draw them out. You aren’t scared or even apprehensive - you’re just annoyed, because the scent lingers in your throat and there’s very little that’s worse than the smell of werewolf. 

You stop in a darkened alley, one hand on your hip as the other fishes your phone out of your dress pocket. There’s not a single soul nearby from what you can tell. Everyone that isn’t sequestered in their homes and beds is packed into the clubs and bars a few blocks away. The scent gets as closer than it’s dared to all night, probably only arm’s length away from you; the hints of woodsmoke and sap tell you everything you need to know. 

[You, sent: ] Is there a reason you’re hiding in the shadows, pup, or are you just going to be creepy all night?

Behind you, a text tone dings through the air followed by a muffled curse. You hear a sigh, and then footsteps. 

“Oh good, so you aren’t going to be creepy all night,” You tell him without turning around. 

“You could’ve just texted me hours ago if you knew I was following you.” His voice is muffled slightly, but there’s no mistaking the pout in it.

“And you could’ve just called like I told you to instead of being weird, but alas, we both chose different paths in life.” When you turn, your struck not for the first time at how soft the werewolf in front of you looks. 

He’s one of the smallest werewolves you know. They all tend to be rather large and imposing, but not him. No, he carries his power in the way he stands, relaxed and lazy no matter what’s in front of him because he knows it’s not a threat. The power he holds in the long fingers is but a millisecond away, and everything about him screams that he is all too aware of it. 

The thought makes your stomach flip and heat sink low between your thighs. 

His nostrils flare ever so slightly, and you have no doubts he can smell your train of thought. He adjusts ever so slightly, flipping the black wavy hair out of his eyes and adjusting the red plaid flannel he’s got tossed on over a nondescript black shirt. He’s more fidgety than usual today, and your eyes narrow.

“Why didn’t you just call, Yoongi?” You ask as you take a single step closer to him. His muscles tense ever so slightly. 

“You remember what happened last time,” He mutters. “Didn’t want a repeat.”

That’s fair , you think. It still doesn’t explain why he decided to stalk you through the night when he could easily have just approached you in one of the several secluded places you’d been. 

“I-” He cuts himself off before he can get more than a word out, and when he brings a hand up to fiddle with the choker around his neck, you notice that he’s shaking slightly. You take another step toward him, and he mirrors you by taking a step back. You look closer. 

His black shirt is slightly damp at the neck, and the sleeves of his flannel are in tatters from where he’s picked at them with his claws. There’s not much light in the alley where you stand, but with your enhanced vision you can see the way his pupils are shrinking and dilating rapidly. The barest hint of a fang worries at his lower lip. 

You’ve never seen him so out of control of his shift before, and it almost worries you. Not only because, against all odds, you care just a bit for this werewolf, but also because out of control werewolves are dangerous even to vampires. You’re confident in your abilities, but you know better than to think you can take down a fully trained, mature, crazed werewolf like Yoongi on your own. 

“Should I call someone for you?” You ask. You manage to keep your usual bored tone in your voice, but if he could pay attention, the tight grip on your phone would give you away in heartbeat. 

“Yes, I mean, no, it’s not-” He huffs. “No, that’s why I came to you. I didn’t get to Joon in time, y’know, it hit early, and now I’m, uh, I don’t have the-” He huffs again, running long fingers down his temple. 

“I’m in rut,” He eventually spits out. Heat floods you at the words; you’ve been with werewolves in rut before, you know what it’s like for them. The need to claim and breed, to ensure their line continues, constantly at war with the want most ‘wolves have to not hurt anyone around them. It’s why Namjoon created his signature potion, a concoction to stave off the need so long as it was taken before all of the symptoms set in. 

Yoongi has been precise about taking it ever since you met him, content to live his life without a mate until he met someone he loved enough to want children with. You’ve never seen him this out of his mind, and yet the fact that he can stand here and have a conversation with you while his instincts scream at him to do anything else is only another testament to his control. 

It only makes you wetter, and you can tell by the way he groans and his nostrils flare once again that he knows the effect. 

“So you thought you’d come to me?” You ask as you slip your phone back into your pocket. Yoongi’s gaze hardens slightly, the muscles in jaw working as he bites back whatever retort he had in mind. “Or, rather, you thought you’d come for me?”

Yoongi steps away again as you step forward, and you cock a brow at him. 

“I’m not going to force you to do anything, okay, Meds?” You stifle a laugh at the shortened form of your nickname; Medici was kind of a mouthful for the younger generations. It’s sweet that he’s so thoughtful, though. “I just...some of the others have mentioned that you’re good for this, what with all the…” His hand waves through the air, gesturing at all of you for a moment before he makes fangs with his fingers. 

“What with our uncooperative biology and my love of roughness,” You finish for him. 

“Yeah,” He responded lamely. “Yeah, that. I just don’t want you to think that you have to do this. Because you don’t. I just don’t know if I’m going to be able to stop if you say yes without you making me.”

His thoughtfulness brings a fresh wave of arousal, paired with the realization that he believes you could control him even in rut. You step forward again and he maintains his distance until his back hits the wall of the alley. You don’t stop, though, getting close enough that you feel his breath mix with yours when his lips part ever so slightly. 

He stifles a soft moan, no doubt able to taste your arousal on the air with how enhanced his senses must be at this point. You run a finger down his sweat-soaked chest; the hitch in his breath only cements your decision. 

“Who said I would want you to stop?”

Yoongi groans, low and deep in his throat, and you smile at the sound.

"Only if you're sure," He mutters. You don't dignify his words with a response. Instead, you slide a hand under his flannel and along the edge of his black shirt, teasing at the hem with your fingers. They ghost along the thin strip of skin you can see, and his eyes flutter closed.

"I'm sure, pup," You whisper. The growl he gives in response isn't something you hear; it's just felt. In the tips of your fingers as they hook under his joggers, in the flip of your stomach, and in the way you can feel the damp cloth of your underwear sticking to you.

"I am not," He growls, one hand moving to tangle in your hair and push you to your knees. "A pup." Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you tug lightly on his waistband, and you stifle a moan when you realize he's not wearing anything underneath. The hand in your hair tightens and pulls you closer to the hard length hidden behind the soft material of his joggers.

"Fuck, Yoongi," You whisper, already mouthing along the outline of his cock.

"Get to work." His words ring in your ears as you pull firmly down and reveal his shaft in all its glory. You've had longer - Taehyung and Namjoon are both exceptionally gifted there - but you doubt anyone could match the girth Yoongi sports.

You wrap a hand around him and slide slowly upwards, committing the relieved sigh he releases to memory. There's a wide gap between your thumb and the rest of your fingers, further proof that he has the girth to make up for any lack of length, and you give it a soft kitten lick.

Yoongi cuts his groan off before it can even start, but his hips buck into you. You grin and look up at him before licking a stripe all the way to his head. His jaw tenses and the hand not tangled in your hair grips the wall behind him hard enough that some of the brick crumbles. 

He sucks in a harried breath when you wrap your lips around him; your jaw already aches from the stretch, but you can’t find it in yourself to care because when you look up at him again, his fangs are digging into his bottom lip and his eyes are clenched shut. You tease him for just long enough that he looks down at you, a demand written in the way his lip curls upwards. With no further warning, you slide down him, taking his entire length into your mouth. 

He chokes on a moan and stuffs the side of his hand between his teeth in an attempt to stay quiet. His hips are moving the barest amount against you, and you can’t help but be impressed that he’s still so in control. 

You want to see him lose it. 

You lick your way off of his cock before sliding back down, letting the flat of your tongue run along the vein as you do. You repeat the motion, letting the very tip of his cock hit your throat before you hum around him and bring one hand up to grip his balls. His hand tugs lightly on your hair and you resist for a single second before you let him pull you off. 

“Fuck, if you keep doing that-”

“You’ll cum?” False sweetness coats your voice, and it makes his expression twist in a snarl. “And here I thought you’d last longer than the others.”

“You want me stuff that mouth of yours so full you can’t talk? Because I will,” He tells you. You cock a brow and grin. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Yoongi.” 

You’re turned before you know it, back against the brick wall while Yoongi’s free hand moves to stroke lightly along your jaw. It’s everything you can do not to nuzzle into the calloused pads of his fingers and you’re glad you resist when his grip hardens and he pulls your jaw down. 

You let him slide his cock between your lips, precum smearing along your lips as he does. He’s heavy on your tongue. It’s intoxicating.

“Your mouth is so good like this, baby,” He says as he begins to thrust in and out of your mouth. “So wet and perfect, you know that? Can’t talk back with your mouth stuffed full of cock, can you?” You hum around him and his thrusts start coming faster and deeper. He’s just long enough that tip of his cock hits the back of your throat each time. 

You can taste him on your tongue and his pre-cum drips down your throat with every thrust. One hand stays buried in your hair, keeping your head in place against the wall as he fucks your face, and the other moves to support his weight. A quick glance tells you his eyes are focused on where his cock disappears between your lips, mouth hanging open just barely as he pants and groans. 

“God, you take it so well,” He pants. “Like it was just made for me.” You clench around nothing at his words; it’s not the first time you’ve heard them, by far, but fuck if you don’t love it every single time. A smile plays out over his lips, highlighting the sharp canines that you love. You can feel a growl building in his throat and you can’t resist the temptation to make him verbalize it.

You tighten your lips around his shaft and hollow your cheeks at the same time that you swallow around him. His rhythm stutters and he pulls out of your mouth in a rush, free hand darting down to wrap around the base. 

“You’re such a little bitch,” He hisses. His vice grip on his dick doesn’t lessen even as he pulls you up to your feet and spins you around. His hand disappears from your hair, both of them running up your thighs to push your dress up so he can squeeze the meat of your ass. He slaps it once before a tearing sound fills the air and your underwear falls to the ground. "Gonna teach you to have some respect, baby." 

His cock slides into you easily and you can't stop the moan that tears from your throat. The stretch burns in the most delicious way; there's little resistance as he pulls out, and the way he sinks back into your heat has your nails scraping against the brick wall. 

"Fuck, Yoongi," You whimper. He chuckles at that and snaps his hips into you again and again. Your moans echo off the alley walls, and only seem to spur him on. He's completely unforgiving, ramming into you quicker and harder with each passing second. 

"Yeah, that's it," He mutters, fingers digging to your hips. "Fucking take this cock, baby, you're so good for me, yeah? Sucked my cock so good I almost came, and now your sweet little pussy's gonna milk me dry. You want that?"

 You whimper, rolling your hips back to meet his bruising pace. He doesn't hold back and you have no doubts that were you a regular human, you'd be bruised beyond belief at the way he fucks you. 

You aren't a normal human, though, and you're thriving with how hard he fucks you into the wall. 

You clench around him and draw the first real moan you've heard from him. He runs a hand up the curve of your back, making you shiver slightly, and a particularly hard thrust has your walls fluttering around him. 

"Can't fucking wait," He moans. "Gonna flood you full of my cum, coat you with it. Everyone you see is gonna smell it on you, they're all gonna know just how good you've been fucked."

"Yes," You moan, "Yoongi, please, do it, please." 

He grips your thighs tight and spins you around, barely pulling out for a second before he's picking you up. Your ankles cross behind him as your back hits the wall and he slams into you once more. 

"Fuck yes, baby," He moans, leaning forward to mouth at your neck. "Gonna breed you so good, fill you so full of my cubs, like a good little bitch." He doesn't miss the way you moan and his teeth dig sharply into your skin. "You like that, don't you? You want everyone to know how good you are, how you take me like a bitch in heat. Fuck, you're so wet, you know that? Wet and hot and fucking perfect for me, the best fuck of my life."

"Yes, Yoongi, please, I'm good, I want it," You pant. 

"Say it," He demands. "Tell me what you want from me."

"I want you to cum," You moan, clenching around him again. You've been with enough werewolves in rut to know what he wants to hear, and you're so cock-drunk that you don't even have the fochs to tease him about it. "I want you to breed me, fill me with your cubs, wanna be yours." 

Yoongi curses and his thrusts shorten until he's just grinding his hips against yours. The pressure against your g-spot is just enough that you're starting to tip over the edge, but you hold it back. You want to cum after him. 

"Shit, you're such a perfect little bitch for me," Yoongi groans. "So perfect and sweet, can't wait to see you dripping in my cum." 

You chance a glance at him and nearly cum on the spot at the sight of red ringing his irises. You're instantly reminded of the power behind his grip, the way he could tear you apart right now if he really wanted to, if he wasn't distracted by the feeling of your warmth surrounding him. 

Your hands dig into his hair and pull him into a hard kiss. Your mouth hits his in a clash of teeth and tongue, both of you too fucked out to care as he grinds and swells inside of you. Your hands move down, pushing at him until he slides out. The sudden emptiness makes you ache but you're on a mission. You also don't want to be stuck against a wall in an alley for however long it takes his knot to deflate. 

"What-" Yoongi whimpers, doing his best to claw you back to him. You grin and drop to your knees again, sliding him into your mouth once more. It's more of a stretch now that his knot is swelling but it's worth it for the way he slides himself to the very back of your throat before pulling out. 

"I want to taste you," You tell him as you wrap your hand around him and start to slowly stroke. "I want to watch you cum down my throat and watch me swallow it all." His breathing turns ragged and there's a high-pitched whine in the air that you aren't sure he knows he's making. You look up at him, wide eyed and pouty. "Please?"

Yoongi curses briefly before he thrusts his cock into your mouth again. You can feel the pressure building and you set to work, bouncing your head on his shaft and letting your tongue flick into the seam and lap up pre-cum before swirling back down around him to the base. His arms are braced on the wall behind you and he doesn't move at all. 

His knot swells even bigger and catches briefly on your teeth, and the noise he makes sends you over the edge. You slide your fingers down to rub circles into your clit, hips rolling into the touch. Yoongi must smell it, or maybe he looks up and sees it, you aren't sure - your nose is buried in the patch of hair between his thighs as you gag around him - but he moans. It's loud and vibrates through his body and into yours, and it makes your orgasm wash over you in a wave of white. Yoongi chokes on another moan and he nearly explodes in your mouth. 

It seems never ending; his cum shoots down your throat, and it just keeps coming as he thrusts shallowly into your mouth. It collects on your tongue, and with his next thrust, you can feel it drip down your lips and chin to land neatly on your chest. You're glad he wasn't deep enough to get truly stuck in your mouth - though that could've been fun. 

Eventually, Yoongi settles. His chest heaves with the force of his orgasm, and his eyes haven't changed from the deep red. 

"You...fuck," He whimpers as he tucks himself back into joggers. He winces a little at the friction against his still decreasing knot and helps you to your feet, straightening your dress as best he can. "C'mon."

You raise an eyebrow and look down at where he's laced his fingers with yours. The red in his eyes brightens ever so slightly as he tugs you forward, free hand wrapping around your waist to hold you close to him. 

"Just where are we going?" You ask quietly, nose brushing lightly against his. 

"My place," He responds easily. "Gonna eat you out until you cum as much as I did, and then I'm gonna fuck you as hard as you know I can." 

The appeal of his secluded cabin must be clear on your face, because he's whisking you out onto the street and towards his home before you can even respond. A quick glance shows no sign the two of you were even there, save for your ruined panties on the ground and deep gouges in the brick. 

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Smut prompts. 26 & 8. Lay it on me. No point in putting a member we both know who you'll write.

WEIRD HOW YOU DIDN’T SPECIFY ANY OTHER BIAS EVEN THOUGH YOU TOTALLY COULD HAVE ALMOST AS IF…YOU’RE A CLOWN 

i have been literally dying to use this gif thank God

@illneverrecover I love you hope this isn’t trash I’m v sleep deprived due to a sick baby boy 

8 (“i seriously don’t think i’ve ever been this hard before, in my life.”) and 26 (“you’re so needy when you’re drunk… it’s cute.”) for baekhyun 

Warnings: phew ok, dirty talk, semipublic vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (condoms are friends kids), counter sex, this gets kinda soft too bc it’s my otp, Baekhyun being the little teasing shit we all know he is

Word Count: 1739 (Drabble my ass i have a lot of feelings about Jaekhyun okay)

You haven’t talked to your on again off again Baekhyun, in two days, and you can’t even remember why you’re leaving him on read, why you’re so mad every time you think of his name or his face or his stupid smile, the one that made your heart jump a little bit every time he gave it to you.

“I’m taking someone else home tonight.”

You’re throwing back a shot of vodka your best friend,  and you don’t like the way she smirks at you.

“You’re just gonna get drunk and call Baekhyun,” she says, and you frown.

“Watch me,” you say, and you head into the club.

After another couple of shots you end up flirting with a handsome man at a barstool and after a third, you’re sitting at a table with your legs up in his lap, one of his forearms draped over your thighs, and smiling at him.

That’s when the bottom of your chair is yanked sharply to the right and you squeal in surprise, feet sliding out of your new friend’s lap and onto the floor with a loud thud.

Before he even speaks you can swear you feel him, know it’s his mouth up against your ear, his arm sliding around your waist.

“Where you been, Jagi?”

“Having fun,” you snap back, before you even twist to look at him, your heart pounding, but he tightens his forearm around your waist, chin tucked onto your shoulder so that you can’t move.

It’s shadowy where he is, what’s he doing just fucking lurking there, waiting for you, watching you?

You open your mouth to ask him just that and he puts his mouth to your shoulder, sticks his tongue out to taste your skin and it comes out in a half moan instead.

“Without me?” His voice is quiet, words almost slow, and you wonder how much he’s had to drink before he got here.

“Yeah, I’m talking to my new friend. See him, over there?” You nod your head toward him, he’s just kind of sitting there, shellshocked, and you almost want to laugh.

You feel his breath huff out against your skin, a quick exhale out of his nostrils.

“He looks a little lost. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, Jagi, come on. You can do better than that, yeah?”

“What, like you?”

He nods, chin still tucked on your shoulder, and you wiggle in his grasp but he just keeps his forearm tight over your waist, just below your breasts, and to be honest you don’t fight that hard, almost lean back against his chest.

“Bet he doesn’t even know how to get you off. You think I should show him?”

He keeps one arm tight around you and walks the fingers of his other hand up your thigh, grabbing at the soft flesh of your inner thigh, beneath your skirt, and when he finds you bare, no panties, he inhales sharply.

“You came out like this? You must have been hoping I’d show up, yeah?”

You snort. “Wasn’t thinking of you at all.”

Goosebumps are popping up all over your thighs, your heart pounding, your stupid traitorous heart contradicting everything your brain wanted you to say.

He doesn’t speak again for a moment, but slides his fingers across your clit, just once, making you gasp.

“Think I should show him? Fuck you right here in front of him and everyone, show him how it’s done?”

“Stop it,” you say, meaning to hiss it but it comes out in a soft moan. “Take me home.”

You don’t even turn your head but you swear you can hear the smirk in his voice. “You’re so needy when you’re drunk…it’s cute.”

As soon as the Uber door closes, you’re regretting it, heart pounding when he puts his hand on your thigh, just where it was in the club and then he’s kissing your throat and you can’t think anymore.

He’s grabbing at your ass when you get to the hallway and you’re laughing at the doorway and turning to kiss him and instead of kissing you hard and deep like you expect, he brushes his nose against yours, once, twice, smiling at you, and why does that make your chest ache?

Why does everything about him hurt you?

He’s tugging up your skirt as he closes the door behind you, and you don’t make it out of the kitchen, he hefts you up by your ass and thighs to the counter, sucking marks across your cleavage, mouth feeling like a brand across your skin.

He tears down your top with one hand, mouth searching, while the other one is up your skirt, and he slides two fingers inside you without warning, raking his teeth across your nipple.

You cry out and buck your hips. “Take me to the bedroom,” you command, and he lifts his head to look at you, smirking a bit.

“Already? I missed you, Jagi. Want to take my time,” he says, and removes his fingers, making you whine.

He’s staring into your eyes when he pops them into his mouth, sucking slow, a low groan ripping from his throat. 

“Missed the way you taste.”

You’re trembling, and you don’t know if it’s from lust or rage because part of you hates him for this, for making you this vulnerable, this weak.

“Taste me, then,” you say, not breaking eye contact, and that’s when he finally kisses you, hungry and hard, catching your bottom lip between his teeth but then kissing you deep again, one hand in your hair to push you to him, as if he can’t get enough.

You’re clawing at his shirt, popping buttons off and you don’t give a fuck if it’s expensive and it probably is, feeling like silk under your hands, and you get it off and you’re raking your nails across his chest and he’s moaning into your mouth and suddenly, carrying you to the bedroom, your thighs around his waist, his hands firmly on your ass.

He all but throws you on the bed, but you don’t give him time to climb on top of you, you’re up, nails scrabbling at the button of his jeans and he takes a deep breath and puts his hands over yours, a strangled chuckle coming from the back of his throat.

You look up at him, give him your best seductive eyes. “What’s wrong, baby? Don’t you want me?”

That strangled chuckle turns into a groan and he rubs a hand across his face.

“Fuck. I seriously don’t think I’ve ever been this hard before, in my life. Of course I want you. I always want you.” He almost mutters that last part, voice low, and your whole body is vibrating, skin on fire.

But he still keeps his hands over yours, even when you pout up at him.

“Gotta tell me you want me, too, Jagi,” he says, planting kisses on your inner thighs before crawling up on his knees on the bed, and you let out a whining moan.

“You know I do.” You say, eyes on his and you’re breathing hard, almost angry.

“Need you to say it, baby. Please?” He’s got one hand on your thigh again, kneading the flesh there, keeping his eyes on yours, his own big and dark.

“I want you. I want you, Baek, please,” you finally burst out, arching your back, doing your best to display your body but he only darts a quick glance down to your breasts before he’s towering over you, finally, finally shoving down his jeans and underwear to slide inside you, and you’re so slippery wet by this point that he glides right in.

The way he’s looking at you, you’d think he’d fuck you slow and deep, but he’s just full of surprises tonight, and fucking you so hard your head is tapping the headboard.

The sounds he’s making has heat coiling in your lower stomach, and you grab ahold of the back of his thighs, rocking your hips into his, off the bed, meeting him with every stroke, breathing out his name over and over.

“Fuck. Fuck. Missed this so much, Y/n,” and he so rarely says your name that you squeak a little as he slams into you, still looking down into your eyes.

You start to squeeze them shut as you approach your orgasm but he grabs your chin in his hand.

“Hey. Don’t, yeah? Be here with me? Please?” It’s such a question, something pleading in his voice, such a contradiction to how hard he’s fucking you, how his breath is getting short.

Your eyes pop open and you force yourself to look at him, heart pounding, and when you come it feels like you might explode, crying out curses and leaning up to dig your nails into his shoulderblades, pulling him down to kiss you.

He cries out your name into your mouth when he comes and then brushes his nose against yours again, once, twice.

Stop it, you want to say. Stop it, you don’t mean it, you’ll get angry with me tomorrow and take it all back, all this soft, all these moments that I want to keep with me.

In the end, you just smile, let him pull you into his arms after, and when the day breaks, you feel like you’ve barely slept.

He’s got his face buried in your neck, snoring gently, and you carefully move his arm off your waist and sit up in bed before suddenly he jerks awake, sits up and locks his forearm around your waist again, just as he did the night before.

“Y’n,” he says, voice almost gravelly with hangover and sleep, “you’ll stay, yeah?”

He’s asking but it isn’t as if you have a choice, with his arm locked around you and the way he’s tugging you back into bed, making these little whining noises in the back of his throat when you turn your back to him.

You roll over, rolling your eyes a bit, but you’re smiling when he touches his forehead to yours, breathes deep like he’s breathing you in, brushes his nose against yours again. Once. Twice.

“You’ll stay, yeah?” He asks, again, voice low and soft.

You don’t know what he’s asking you, don’t know if he means this morning or for a while or forever, but it doesn’t really matter, does it?

“Yeah, Baek. I’ll stay.”

[aliferous-ly]

Seeing Red

based on this by @illogicallyinclined​ because um? i love it ? i took a fewww creative liberties also wrath is rage bc i didnt see the wrath tags until After writing so /peace sign/

warnings: injury, blood, knife as a weapon, loud terrible noises (like nails on a chalkboard esque), bliiinding, eye trauma, basically all the og warning tags plus like. logan freaking out

<3

--

Logan clutched at his collar. Air clogged in his throat like it moved through molasses, and he tore the first few buttons clean off of his shirt. His tie, already loosened, flopped, almost completely undone, against his chest. 

“Shit shit shit shit!” 

“Virgil?” 

“Honey, what’s going--”

“Goddamnit!” Virgil’s voiced pounded against Logan’s ears. He could hear Patton worrying, hear Roman asking what to do, while Virgil shouted, his voiced fused with frustration-anger-fear-fear-fear. 

“I’m gone!” Virgil finally said. “I’m gone! He took control, I’m gone.” 

And by that, of course, he meant he no longer could influence Thomas’s decisions. Patton’s control had flown out the window rather early on, similarly with Roman’s. Virgil, the deep-seated highly volatile Anxiety, usually kept the reigns for… ever. He’d never slipped yet. Anxiety had some sort of hand in nearly every part of Thomas’s life. 

Logan could hear all of this happening, but he was in another room. Not completely by choice, he’d been tugged there by… something, something, why can’t he remember -- and, well. He couldn’t really breathe. But it was fine. Everything was fine. 

A sharp, piercing noise shot through his head like a knife scraping down a chalkboard. A warbled gasp of pain shot from his lips but -- but -- 

“Logan! We have to get -- we have to get Logan--” Virgil’s voice cut through the walls, loud and frantic. 

“Calm down, calm down, he’s fine.” Roman’s. Strong, willful Roman. Steady and flighty all at once. 

“No, he’s -- Rage -- he’s --” Logan could hear the words tearing from Virgil’s mouth in gasps, bullet words catching on the wind. 

“He’s just in the other room, I’ll go get him.” Patton, now. A gentle force from behind, a safety net. The doorknob rattled. A knock. Logan hadn’t locked the door. 

“Logan, buddy?” Patton called out. Tentative, concerned, fear-fear-fear--

The piercing noise grew to a cacophonous level until he couldn’t hear what was happening, here there or anywhere, a never-ending onslaught of high-pitched noise barraging his senses, stuffing his brain with nothing but echoes and ringing and he couldn’t hear everything he touched was static and -- 

Silence. 

“Oh, Logan~” 

He knew that voice. He knew that voice, so why couldn’t he remember -- 

His senses flooded back to him, one right after another. Carpet under his fingers, a steady beating in his ears, two black leather boots with pitch dark spikes. 

He looked up. 

Rage smiled, lips stretching and gruesome. His teeth glinted bright, bright white. Logan could feel his heart in his throat, a foreign feeling sweeping through him. An external pounding echoed in the back of his mind, like it was happening but he couldn’t -- really -- hear -- 

Then Logan blinked and realized that his teeth weren’t the only things glinting, that he was holding a long -- silver -- knife. 

Logan scrambled to his feet with a reserve of energy he didn’t know he had, everything loud and narrow and bright. 

“Oh, don’t freak, freak,” Rage said. He twirled the blade once, twice, before a power-hungry grin overtook his face. “I’d say it’s nothing personal but I’m going to relish every moment of this.” 

“Don’t--” Logan extended his palms but in moments Rage was upon him, gripping at his arms his shirt his tie -- Logan pushed against him, something primal and raw erupting as he yelled. Rage’s wrists were burning, hotter than anything Logan knew, his hands slipping against rough obsidian skin. Rage was a flurry of limbs and Logan couldn’t see, couldn’t see, couldn’t see and --

The knife hovered above his eyes, just between his glasses. Rage laughed and laughed and laughed, eyes flung open wide, golden red eyes -- orange black eyes -- fire and brimstone -- 

The bridge of his glasses snapped. 

The world erupted into red. 

“Can you see it?” Rage might’ve whispered or yelled but it all sounded the same to Logan’s ears, crashing waves of fear and pain filling his head. Can you see it? 

The color was never ending, lacking depth and feeling and Roman loved red, he loved the color, but it didn’t feel like Roman, this hateful burning hellfire scarlet -- everything hurt, it hurt and he couldn’t see because of all the fucking red in his vision, he just wanted it all to go away and --

Silence. 

Rage was gone -- Logan could sense it, in the room. Rage’s presence filled every crack, every hole. He needed to be seen, had to be known. Rage was gone. Rage was… gone. 

Logan choked. His ears burned. Something viscous and warm slogged down his cheeks and Logan thought, well, tears are thicker than I remember, well, would the others find him, well, Rage really got what he wanted. 

And then he remembered, oh. Oh. Tears don’t hurt, not like this. Not like this. 

And he remembered the big silver knife, settled between his eyes, and Logan realized his eyes weren’t closed. He wasn’t guarding himself against a bright world. He no longer saw red and instead everything was -- 

Dark. 

A sob tore from his throat. His shoulders shook and he trembled, trembled for someone to help, for someone to give him his sight back give it back --

Hysteria rose and he forced it down. Object impermanence renders you --

But Rage was different than Remus, Logan knew this -- 

Object impermanence renders you pretty unintimidating. 

Something loud cracked, like wood splintering in half. 

What’s so frightening about something with no real world impact?

A warm touch, cool against his burning skin. Soft hair against his neck and ears, a pressure on his arms. Movement, smooth and swift, the fabric of the couch against his elbows. 

Someone wrapped their arms around him, sideways, like they leaned against -- against the arm of the couch, and his own back was against the back of the couch. 

The muffled ringing in his ears subsided, just enough. He could feel fabric -- a sweatshirt? -- against his arms. A voice murmured in his ear and as time trekked on he could make out more and more. 

“We’re here,” the voice was saying. Virgil was saying. Virgil, who was holding on tight to Logan, unwilling to let him go. Undoubtedly getting blood all over his sweatshirt because that’s what was dripping down Logan’s face. That’s what was… 

“It hurts,” Logan said. 

Virgil pressed his forehead against Logan’s jawbone, lips against his shoulder. “I know. I know. Roman and Patton are here to help.” 

Logan made a small, pitiful noise, but when they asked -- Roman, Logan thinks, but the voice was so soft it could’ve been Patton -- if they could help him, treat him, he nodded. 

It hurt so much less than he thought it would. 

Logan knew that cleaning wounds -- anywhere, not just on the face -- hurt like hell. Hurt almost more than the initial wound, because the residual adrenaline had worn off by then. But he barely noticed it -- a prick, a tug. He was more aware of Virgil’s heavy weight around his torso, his head pressed against Logan’s neck. 

“Done,” Roman (definitely Roman, Logan was positive this time) said. “Patton brought some soft clothes for you.” 

“Thomas,” Logan said. “What about--”

“Thomas is fine,” Virgil said, interrupted. “After…” He swallowed. Logan could feel it in the way his shoulders shifted, in the closeness of his chest. 

“After Rage left,” Roman picked up. “Patton found a crack and forced through.” 

“Thomas is letting off steam,” Patton said. His touch landed on Logan’s arm, feather-light. Fabric followed soon after and Logan just -- Logan just moved when he could, as Patton and -- Virgil, slowly dressed him. “He needs to take a breather. Rage is being released in a healthy coping mechanism.” 

Logan nodded, suddenly exhausted. “He’s okay.” 

“He’s okay,” Patton confirmed. “And you are, too.” 

Logan didn’t say anything. Because he didn’t know if his sight would return. Logically, probably, maybe. When Thomas recovered his faculties then Logan would… return to himself. Five senses and all. 

But… 

What if it didn’t? Would he be blind for -- for the rest of Thomas’s life? 

Virgil tightened his grip. Not enough to be painful, but just enough for a surge of appreciation and comfort to flow through Logan’s veins. He felt -- he felt safe, in Virgil’s arms. He knew Patton and Roman were close. And with those around him he was guarded from the rest of the world. 

Another wave of exhaustion swept through him. 

“I’d hug you, but Virgil’s kinda hogging all your hug time,” Patton said. Joked. 

Logan’s lips quirked. It was weak, but it was there. 

Virgil settled his chin atop Logan’s shoulder. “Nope. I’m legally obligated to stay here.” 

“Rude,” Roman said. “I knew you were a dragon but I didn’t know you were this much of a hoarder.” 

Virgil hissed at him. Something comforting and relieved exploded in Logan’s chest, releasing in a singular exhale of almost-laughter. 

“Did you just -- did he just hiss at me?” 

“There there, Roman,” Patton said. “It’s okay. I’ll hug you.” 

“Thanks, padre. You’re my favorite.” 

Logan imagined Virgil sticking his tongue out at Roman, imagined Patton and Roman giving each other the biggest, most obnoxious hug known to man. 

“Thank you,” Logan said. The words were dusty, and warbled, and choked, but they were there. 

“Of course,” Virgil said. 

“It’s no problem,” Roman said. He sounded like he’d tried for boasting but couldn’t manage to sneak out the soft undertone. 

“We’re always here for you, Logan,” Patton said. 

His heart lightened. Logan didn’t smile, he didn’t know if he had the energy for it, but he was… content? Comforted. Maybe even happy. 

“This won’t happen again,” Virgil promised. “I have a brand new crippling fear of Rage taking over. He won’t ever gain this much power, ever again.” 

“That’s good,” Logan said, because it was. Thomas shouldn’t be enraged so completely, he shouldn’t lose control so fully. And now Virgil had the means… to prevent it. And Patton had evidently grown stronger, too, being able to wrench some of Rage’s control from him. 

And with Virgil by his side, Roman and Patton aiding him every step of the way… they were okay. 

Logan could breathe. 

Everything was okay. 

[knybits]

Baby from Two

bc akiko and tanjirou can have kids even tho akiko is asexual :,,)

@thunderandrainclouds and @kny-writings have they own chiyuu and sanemiyu kids and that made me SO SOFT so i couldnt help but think up of taniko’s own kid :,,) more details on him soon, but here’s a quick thing of modern au and the lead up to how the taniko family came to be!

also thank GOD i wrote this whole thing before i broke my hand LMAO

“A child?”

Akiko looks up from her tablet, a finger hovering over the medical journal she was reading to look at Tanjirou. She thought he would be a bit nervous about bringing the matter up, but he looks focused on the task at hand instead.

Her feet are in his lap, and his eyes scrunch and his tongue is sticking out a bit as he tries to make sure that he doesn’t mess up painting her toenails a navy blue.

Tanjirou’s book lays face down on the coffee table, and the bright red nail polish that Akiko used to paint Tanjirou’s toe nails remain right by the book.

“Well, I mean yeah! Why not?” He’s finishing up, wiping some of the excess polish on the sides of the bottle.

Akiko’s face pales, “You mean you want me to birth a baby?”

This catches Tanjirou’s attention, and his head snaps up to quickly shake his head, earrings flying around his face.

“No! Oh my gods, no! I would never force you to birth a child or have sex! I meant adoption!”

Akiko can’t help the breath of relief from leaving her lips, shoulders loosening and heart slowing in pace. Tanjirou looks guilty, but when Akiko points her foot to have him resume his task, he knows that all is forgiven.

But she remains quiet, continuing to scroll through her tablet. The stillness in the air makes Tanjirou feel like he can’t breathe, but he can tell that Akiko’s mind is going through her usual pros and cons list.

For starters, Miyuki and Chiyo have already had their children. Miyuki first with Jin, who is already in her terrible twos. Then Chiyo had the twins, Tsutako and Yasu, a year later. And then the year after that Miyuki had Kousuke.

Akiko and Tanjirou aren’t too worried about being the only family without a child. Akiko could care less, and considering the fact that the two of them have to babysit so much, she already feels like she has four kids of her own.

But Tanjirou can’t help but care a little bit. Akiko doesn’t blame him. She knows that he’s wanted a big family since they were kids, and it’s mainly due to the fact that he himself grew up in a large family.

She’s just glad that Tanjirou is understanding of the fact that she isn’t comfortable having sex, and the idea of having children of her own isn’t very exciting.

But adoption doesn’t sound too bad.

“...Google says that there’s an orphanage about an hour’s drive away from here. Let me call the hospital to see if I can get a day off soon,” Akiko buries her face deeper into the tablet, shielding herself from Tanjirou’s radiant smile.

“Really?!”

“Well, we should talk to our parents about this… And we have the spare guest room to use, so I don’t think space will be a problem. I’m sure I can ask my dad for money if we’re ever in a pinch, but we’re pretty steady right now…” Akiko’s mumbling grows quieter, and Tanjirou has to lean over to lower her tablet from her face to get her to look at him properly.

His smile is softer now, shoulders no longer tense and the feeling of his hand warm.

“We’ll figure this out together, Akiko. I know we can,” and then he returns to painting her toenails.

---

“We’re so fucked.”

Chiyo and Miyuki both extend a hand out to cushion Akiko’s face from slamming into the coffee table, and Mikyuki sighs under her breath over Akiko’s bad habit.

“Hit your head on this table any more and you might loose your medical brain cells,” Chiyo chastises, and Akiko gives her a look of pure, ‘It doesn’t work like that.’

“Besides that,” Miyuki waves off, “Why do you think you’re fucked?”

The two cradle Akiko’s cheek in their hands now as she tilts her head to look at the two. When Akiko finally sits up she takes a quick sip of her coffee, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“I know I babysit for the two of you all the time, but I honestly don’t know how I’ve been able to do that so far. Honestly I think Tanjirou has been the one babysitting for all of us.”

Chiyo tilts her head, “Why do you say that?”

“Because I’m really bad with kids.”

There’s an odd pause between the three and Akiko shifts uncomfortably under their wide eyed gaze.

Then Chiyo and Miyuki look at each other, and then back at Akiko before chorusing, “Yeah, we know.”

“Wow alright I guess I’m not babysitting anymore.”

Miyuki shrugs, “Trust me hun, we’ve known since day one. I had to show you how to hold Jin, remember? Still a work in improvement too.”

“Please stop rubbing in the salt…”

Chiyo laughs, pouring Akiko her third cup of coffee of the day before setting a reassuring hand on Akiko’s shoulder.

“I know you have trouble connecting with kids, but a part of your job is to get along with kids, isn’t it?”

Akiko sips a bit, mulling over her thoughts, “Mmm, well, yeah. But I just wave a lollipop in front of their face and promise that they get it in the end if they’re a good kid. I can’t do that with my child every day, or they’ll get cavities!”

Now it’s Miyuki’s turn to laugh, and she claps Akiko’s back harshly. Chiyo laughs along and the two laugh even harder when Akiko’s face grows beet red.

“That’s exactly what a parent would say! See? You’ll be fine!” Chiyo lightly punches Akiko’s arm, but Akiko still rubs some of the pain away. Chiyo’s arms are no joke…

Miyuki then pipes in, her own cup of coffee lifted to her nose with the steam slowly warming up her cold nose. “And besides,” she starts gently, “you have Tanjirou. Raising a child is all about teamwork, alright? You’ll be with each other every step of the way.”

---

With traffic, the drive to the orphanage took an extra half an hour. Akiko’s leg bounces in the car and her eyes read the license plate of each passing car, her mind memorizing letters and numbers in an attempt to focus on something else.

When Tanjirou moves his hand to slip his fingers through Akiko’s, she calms down a little. And then she remembers that she should be more excited than scared of having a child.

“We’re here!” Tanjirou’s bright voice breaks Akiko out of her thoughts and she blinks, clearing her vision to focus back on the hands folded in her lap.

She and Tanjirou are dressed a bit more formally for the occasion, as Akiko is in blue pencil skirt and usual billowy poet shirt. Tanjirou is wearing black pants that cling to his nicely defined legs and he’s pulled on a tight white shirt tucked into his pants. Basically, walking eye candy for Akiko to look at.

When the two step out of the car, Akiko has the chance to look up at the building.

It’s big and daunting in Akiko’s eyes, and the plethora of windows look like eyes glaring down at her. Then, she sees a couple heads pop up from the windows, and the eyes of children light up upon the sight of a car with a couple adults.

She pales at the thought of disappointing a child, and there’s a guilty feeling within her stomach when she sees older children that know they won’t be adopted. The eyes of hopeful toddlers and twins that clutch each other tightly in fear that they will be separated one day.

Tanjirou smells smoke from Akiko’s head, and her tightens his hold on her hand to anchor her back down. Then, he offers her an excited smile.

“Are you ready?”

“I need an inhaler.”

She waves off his concerned look and assures that she’s just joking around, and the two climb the steps of the orphanage building. Tanjirou does most of the talking when they reach the front desk and he fills out most of the paperwork. They’re given little visitor stickers and someone steps forward to help give them a little tour.

There’s a small craft room where kids play with clay and popsicle sticks, and Akiko sees a couple older kids working hard at japanese calligraphy.

Most of the kids are in the back playing on the playground, cheering and screaming with each other. Upon seeing Tanjirou and she, a few start to crowd around them, and Tanjirou is tugged along to play.

He has a few in his lap when they go down the slide, and he pushes a little boy on the swings to the point where the boy almost goes flying away.

A few kids grow curious of Akiko, since all she’s doing is standing by awkwardly.

“Are those your real eyes?”

“Yes.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a doctor.”

“Are you gonna give us shots?!”

“That depends. Are you up to date on your vaccinations?”

Yeah.

She’s killin it.

She’s somehow roped into braiding a girl’s hair, and she’s struggling dearly. Tanjirou laughs when he sees how hard she’s trying, but she’s only making a mess out of the girl’s dark locks.

So Tanjirou steps in, guiding Akiko’s fingers through the girl’s hair and creating a beautiful braid.

“I’ll let you practice on me when we get home,” Tanjirou promises, and Akiko lets out a sigh of relief.

Some time later, Akiko finds herself watching Tanjirou with love filled eyes as he is turned into the playground. He easily holds a few children in his arms with another on his shoulders. When he turns around to show Akiko, the proudest smile on his face, Akiko smiles back twice as wide.

The kids laugh when they see Tanjirou turn red, suddenly shy in the face of his beloved.

“Kids look good on you,” Akiko says softly, patting his chest before the two are taken back inside to see the nursery.

Most of the babies are sleeping when the two quietly step inside with the guide. But there’s one playing by himself with a couple legos, and Akiko rushes over to wrestle a brick out of his grubby hands when she realizes that he’s about to shove it into his mouth.

“Choking hazARD-“

Tanjirou places a finger to his lips to shush her but she opens his mouth to peer inside his mouth, checking to make sure there isn’t anything else lodged into his throat.

Akiko really isn’t in the mood to have to flip this baby and slap his back.

“U- Uhm, ma’am? Please be gentle with him…”

“I’m so sorry! She’s a doctor, so she’s just doing a part of her job,” Tanjirou laughs weakly, bowing a bit to the guide before turning his attention back to Akiko.

When Akiko deems the baby okay, she sets him down. He’s a little fussy after Akiko handled him roughly, so Tanjirou steps in to pick up the baby and rock him to calm him down.

But when Tanjirou notices something, his eyes widen in surprise.

“Oh! Akiko! Look! His eyes!” Tanjirou beams, and Akiko finds the baby stuffed into her arms.

She’s holding him under his arms, blinking owlishly at the sudden predicament, but nonetheless she leans in a bit to look the baby in his eyes.

The same ginko leaves, the same molten gold, the same sunrise blend.

Akiko looks into a carbon copy pair of her own eyes.

Zenitsu’s eyes are close, but they’re a bit different. His are brighter, most hopeful, and they don’t change like Akiko’s does.

This baby has eyes that flicker between topaz and autumn leaves.

The baby tilts his head when he looks at Akiko, and Tanjirou comes closer to brush some of his inky black hair out of his face.

“He’s so cute!” Tanjirou gushes, and Akiko can’t help but smile the least bit.

“Yeah, he’s pretty cute I gues- OW?!”

Out of pure curiosity and wonder, the baby decides to shove his chubby little fingers into Akiko’s eyes.

This. Little. Fucker.

—-

“Yeah and then we adopted you I guess.”

Hiyoshi, now 16, looks at his mom with a tired expression.

Tanjirou is in the kitchen, making breakfast for the family while Akiko pets Shyoutan in her lap.

Hiyoshi looks at his mother through his thick frames, eyes no where near as blessed as his mother’s (as ironically enough.) He’s fiddling with his fingers, and Akiko sighs at his habit to hide his face behind his hair.

“And, uhm… What about Shyoutan? How did we get Shyoutan?”

The great big golden retriever has been with the family for as long as Hiyoshi can remember, and he doesn’t really know the full story as to how his parents got the dog when she was still barely been born.

Tanjirou laughs, setting a bowl of rice for each member of his little family before returning to the kitchen. Akiko chuckles under her breath as well and Hiyoshi can tell that there’s a funny story behind Shyoutan, but Akiko mercilessly stands from her spot on the couch and Shyoutan moves to let her leave.

Then, she strides over to her son and smothers his cheek with kisses, Hiyoshi trying to push his mom away from him and whining in protest.

“That’s a story for another day, Hiyoshi,” Tanjirou says, finally laying out the miso soup and the fish for his family. Everyone moves to take their seats, but Akiko turns a 180 on her son and swipes his chopsticks away.

“You know the drill young man,” she narrows her eyes. “Go feed Shyoutan before you eat.”

Hiyoshi groans, “Sometimes I feel like you guys treat the dog better than me.”

“Oh? So you don’t want to spend the day with your uncle Inosuke?”

Hiyoshi bolts to the cabinet after that, quickly filling Shyoutan’s bowl (and making it overflow, much to Akiko’s annoyance) before sitting cross legged on his chair and eating his food as fast as possible for an always early arriving Inosuke.

[tarithenurse]

Agent of Hope - 19

Your world falls into ruin together with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcements Logistics Division when you find out that your boyfriend isn’t one of the good guys. Pairing: Brock Rumlow x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader Contents: Hmmm...weapons, fluff, dealing with trauma, mention of rape, masturbation, violent reaction, difficult choices, more fluff, and kissing. A/N: Thanks to all of you who like and especially reblog <3 On a second note: been looking for houses (need to move out of my parents’ place with my husband bc omfc).  Also that GIF just is epic.

19 - An offer you can’t refuse

…   Romanoff   …

The tinny jingle from the Goldfish commercials doesn’t cause hesitation to the hands moving rapidly to find and connect the right parts needed in the task of assembling three different guns. Only when the last weapon is locked (and loaded) does Natasha spin the cell phone on the table with a frown. Unknown caller, but the small dots in the corner indicate that Jarvis is tracking down the number already and will have an answer in three…two…one…ugh! Langley.

“Afternoon.” The tone is flat enough to show the lack of enthusiasm without being downright rude. “What more does Langley want post-hearings?”

She can almost hear the crooked smile. “Hrph…I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, miss Romanova.” The twist to the last name sends shivers down the former Russian’s spine but the familiar voice continues. “I’m agent Ross…we met during the hearings…?”

The silence is allowed to reign in an attempt to get the man to talk, maybe say too much. Meanwhile, Natasha brings the Glock 26 behind the back and starts to dismantle it, counting the seconds it takes before every piece of metal is spread out on the couch cushion behind her, careful not to lose the pins or the little spring for the trigger.

“Miss uhm…miss Romanova? You there?”

Nervous. Not enough. “…yeah.”

“Good! Good. Yes…” Some paper rustles through the line. “Right…I know the hearings’ve been long and prob’ly bothersome,” agent Ross hesitates to allow for some comment but gets none, “s’I can completely understand and respect if y’aren’t interested, however…I believe that you may ‘ave information that could be of benefit to u- to the Agency, I mean, in terms of filling some gaps. Erm I think…what I’m trying to say’s would it be possible for you to – off record – have a look at our older intel?”

Wait…waaiit…one more second. An intake of breath is Natasha’s cue. “You want me to shed light on old cases that’ve gone sideways?”

“Well –“

“You think either SHIELD, Hydra, or maybe my former handlers could’ve botched it for you guys?” By now the short agent’s sputtering in embarrassment, maybe hoping for the weak protests to soothe any slights the insinuation could have caused. “Send me a top ten and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Really?!”

Yeah, why would I? Simply put, Natasha hates being out of the loop, and the spy in her is aching for the chance of (legally) getting hold of CIA intel. More than that, though, she’s learned the hard way how precious the currency known as “favours” are. Owe someone something? They’ll have a hook in you forever. Someone owes you? It can be the difference between life and death. An IOU from a CIA agent…that could be handy.

“No promises I can actually tell you more than y’know already.”

Movement behind her makes the Avenger turn her head, a smile already curving her lips at the presence of [Y/N] who eyes the weapons (and parts) cautiously.

“Oh, no! That’s okay, no worries!” An idiot might refuse the tentative offer and Ross is far from that. “I’ll compile the files and get them to…you…uhm…”

“I’ll text you an address.” A slightly oil-greased finger hovers over the phone already. “Bye, agent Everett Ross.”

…   Rumlow   …

The fly circles the room a few times before finally settling on the person in the corner, climbing across brown-stained jeans in short sprints before reaching the lax hand and taking off again. Next time the insect lands it’s by the dried spatter on the wall where the bullet had made a small crater when it exited the skull of…who was that? A glance at the pens and the old-fashioned glasses makes Brock guess at some dusty field of expertise like history or literature. Whatever it had been, the man had decided it was better to risk it all and go looking for Hydra on nothing but a rumour.

“Don’t mind zat,” Strucker dismisses the sight easily, “ze interesting zing is zis.” Careful not to touch, he points at the darkened veins and (with the help of a metal rod) the unnaturally blue eyes. “Ze experiment was quite a success, my friend. We are able to channel ze power of ze weapon into humans.”

“They all end up like this so far?” The eyelid hasn’t lowered again, so the endless glow of space is staring blindly at Brock no matter where he moves. “A bullet in the brain? Why did he get that?”

Chuckling softly, Strucker wipes the little stick in a handkerchief which he folds before depositing both in a pocket. “Zis man gained immense strengz but lacked control.” Oh. “Perhaps zere is a stronger connection between the state of mind and ze results zan we anticipated. We are now looking for actual volunteers.”

…

Fuck. However Loki did it remains a mystery still, but Brock won’t give up the hope that it will be possible to figure out how to control another person with the staff. Damnit, he’d seen the bit of salvaged footage and read the debriefs portraying the events when the Asgardian came to Earth and brainwashed top agents in no time.

The results of Strucker’s and his team’s work is vital both for the promotion of Hydra’s scheme…and to get anything useful from [Y/N] when she will get back again. I’ll be damned if it kills her. Brock’s all too aware that his craving for the ex-girlfriend wouldn’t be condoned if anyone knew – to be fair, he doesn’t quite like it himself because it makes him feel like he isn’t in control of his own damn mind. Every dream is either about missions and kills, sending adrenalin pumping through his veins, or they feature every detail of [Y/N].

The little smile when she was lost in thought. Her spine curving to jut the breasts upwards, skin subtle under Brock’s hands. Remembering the teasing hitches in her breath on a sunny morning, light filtering through the windows to catch in her hair as they made their bed creak together a lifetime ago.

“Godfuckingdamnit!”

Already, an erection is pressing painfully hard against tac-pants and Brock shoves a fist down to reposition the stubborn cock only for a new memory to appear the moment his fingers close around the shaft. Shea-butter mixed with sweat on pebbled nipples…perfect taste. There’s not much room to move the hand, but at least the pants are easily opened allowing for longer strokes.

The speed accelerates with each recollection, fist tightening and twisting while the echoes of [Y/N]’s moans are replaced by cries tearing from her throat when he took her with force. Fuck, it was so good, the man admits to himself, the struggle…oh yeah…the…the control. Breathing laboured, Brock has to lean against the wall, unable to stagger the last few steps over to his cot. She’d begged and pleaded, and he had been the one to grant her peace…or not.

He grunts as he comes. White stickiness spurting between his fingers, adding to the blurry haze from the inability to focus on anything else than the rush thrumming through the veins. It’ll be a short reprieve before the need returns like an endless hunger that nothing can sate. One thing can. But [Y/N] isn’t here, she’s tugged away somewhere with the fucking Avengers and that makes it all a million times worse because to think that Romanoff or maybe even Steve get to be close to her. Get to touch her, smell her.

It stings pleasantly when the hand connects with the drywalling and the structure behind it, thin strings of cum hanging from the torn plaster. At least that clears Brock’s mind a bit.

…   Reader   …

Lying awake all night, it’s almost a relief to sense the grey dimness take over the room and allow the outlines of furniture to stand out – not even Natasha’s steady breathing has been able to calm your mind after the hours of training spent to tire out your body at least. Why this time?! You’ve spent more than enough nights trying to escape nightmarish memories and negative thoughts but this…this issue is different and you’re happy with the decision you’ve made. I should just tell her.

It’s almost possible to make out the contours of Tasha against the white pillow, darker hair spreading like a halo of smoke. You know she sleeps lightly. Brushing your lips featherlight across her cheek, and she already turns to find your mouth with her own. Sweet and lazy kisses, a single tug to your bottom lip. Morning breath is a non-issue when she invites you into a bubble of gentle safety. Home.

“Morning, babe.” Her fingers tease the shortest hairs in your neck. “You’ve managed to sleep at all?”

There’s no reason to answer, just plant a peck on her nose. “I’ve made up my mind,” you offer as consolation, “and I hope you’ll understand why it’s important to me.”

The love never disappears from the touch while she sits up against the headboard. If it was light enough, you think you might see cautious interest mingled with concern in her eyes because Tasha isn’t as good as hiding it as she thinks she is. That’s a secret though.

“Okay…” She drags you onto her lap, straddling her so the strong arms can wrap around your waist. “Is it about the call from Ross?”

The scent of shampoo still clings to her hair as you bury your face in it, happy to talk into the red mess. “Yes, but mainly it’s about wanting to do what I can.”

Of course your reasoning isn’t perfect, but Natasha doesn’t interrupt even once as you explain how you want to do your part to support the hearings and the new request from the CIA by giving a testimony. Gifted or not, at least there’s information about Brock that can be of use and it seems someone else than just the Avengers are trying to clean things up…hopefully that includes tracking down the people that can be identified to Hydra through the data dumped on the net the day SHIELD fell. You promise to keep the ability secret to anyone outside of Natasha and her friends...admitting that you’ll have to be careful although you’ve got the most convincing cover to any strange phrasing “thanks” to what Brock and his people have put you through while in their hands.

The colours have returned to the world by the time you finish explaining. Dusty lavender heightens the rosy cheeks of the woman looking at you with a serious expression that makes your stomach knot. I have to do this. It’ll be hard as fuck, but it feels right. Feels important.

“I’ll let him know,” Tasha whispers, pulling you in for a tight embrace, “and I’ll be with you all the time.”

[kagehinataboke]

todobaku roommates au bc i loved the one you wrote!!! with with with erotic dreams (better if it's todoroki having them bc BAHAHA i. i'd just love to see that.)

aww thank you hon 😭💕 asketh and you shall receiveth!

tdbk: [12] Roommates AU and [88] Erotic Dreams

i went for the Bakugou route with the dreams, only because i wanted to have him chat w/ Kirishima about it. forgive me anon 🙏🏻

***

“You had… a wet dream?” From the look on Kirishima’s face, Bakugou can tell he’s holding back laughter.

“Shut the fuck up, Shitty Hair.” Bakugou half-rises from his seat, prepared to leave—and perhaps run straight into oncoming traffic. “Dammit. I knew I shouldn’t have fucking told you.”

“Hey, I didn’t even say anything yet!” Kirishima holds his hands up innocently. “I just needed to process it… Who was the dream about?”

Bakugou sits back down hesitantly, taking a sip of black coffee to calm his nerves. “…Todoroki.”

Kaminari snorts into his hot chocolate, spilling it across the café table. “Wait, the one who has a stupid expression all the time? The one who stays up late every night and never gets tired? The one you’re constantly saying you can’t stand? That Todoroki? Your roommate Todoroki?”

“Keep your fucking voice down,” Bakugou hisses, shoving napkins into Kirishima’s hands. “Yes, that Todoroki. And now I can’t stop thinking about it. I want to scrub my brain with bleach. And if that doesn’t work, I want to kill myself.” Bakugou slams his head against the table, rattling their mugs. “My roommate. How can I look him in the eyes now?”

“Do you think you like him?” Kirishima asks, sopping up his spilled cocoa. “From a bystander point-of-view, it’s really impossible to tell whether you like or hate someone.”

“I don’t know,” Bakugou groans, rubbing his palms into his eyelids. “I thought I hated him, but now I get all… weird whenever I see him. I feel like such a fucking creep. The guy sleeps ten feet away from me.”

“This isn’t the end of the world.” Kirishima dumps the gross wet napkins on his plate and picks up his cup. “It sounds like you’re overreacting a little. Your subconscious messes up everything in your dreams, dude. This could be a one-time thing.”

Bakugou fidgets with his empty mug anxiously. “…You think?”

“Absolutely!” Kirishima claps him on the shoulder reassuringly. “Just try to forget about it. I’m sure things will be back to normal in no time.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Bakugou says it to convince himself more than anything. It’s not uncommon to have totally weird dreams, right? That one time, he dreamed the moon was blown up, and that didn’t really happen. Dreams are stupid, and this one doesn’t mean anything. He’ll look at Todoroki when he gets back, and he’ll feel nothing—no tightness in his chest, no butterflies in his stomach—because that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

He feels a bit better already.

***

Hah, Katsuki— N-not there… Ah!

Bakugou jerks awake in an ice-cold sweat, his back on the hardwood floor and his legs straight up in the air. Jesus fucking Christ. It happened again. Thank god Todoroki has already left for his morning class, or he’d see what else—other than Bakugou’s legs—is sticking up.

He’s a pervert, isn’t he? While he’s getting dressed, and even after he leaves the dorm, Bakugou can’t get the eerily vivid mental image out of his head. Todoroki covered in sweat, his hair blossoming across Bakugou’s pillowcase, gasping out his name, begging for—

Oh shit, he actually likes thinking about it. What the fuck? Is he really a creep? Fantasizing about his roommate, who’s, for one, a guy. Sure, he’s hotter than asphalt in the summer, but his personality is terrible. On top of that, he’s about as erotic in his everyday life as a limp noodle or a piece of driftwood. Yesterday he wore ripped jeans and a purple argyle sweater, for fuck’s sake.

Well… okay, so maybe he looks pretty good while sleeping, or eating, or exercising, or— Okay, no. That’s a doomed train of thought. But Bakugou is doomed. He’s had multiple, amazingly explicit sexual dreams about his roommate. That’s gotta be the most ‘doomed’ things can get.

“Fuck,” Bakugou says aloud, startling several people in the train around him. He finishes the thought in his head to keep from fortifying his delinquent image: I’m so totally, completely, exquisitely fucked.

And it’s true. Bakugou has been denying it for a while, as he’s so skilled at doing, but it’s true. Todoroki’s sleepy, stumbling walk in the mornings. The way his hair falls in his eyes when he bends over a textbook. How he doesn’t know how achingly gorgeous he is—but he must know, because no fucking way does someone so hot not know they’re male-model material.

Bakugou’s hand nearly fractures when he smashes it against the train railing. So much for not supporting his ’probably in the mafia’ rep. There’s nothing else to take his anger out on, though. If he goes to class, he’ll probably end up breaking a computer over someone’s head. Jesus, if he sees that bastard’s face right now, he’ll probably—

“Bakugou?”

“Christ— Don’t sneak up on people like that.” Bakugou lets out a tense breath before smacking Kaminari on the back of the head. “I thought you were… someone else.”

“Who? Like Todoro— OW!” Kaminari rubs his arm defensively.

“Kirishima told you, didn’t he?” Bakugou demands, lowering his voice when nearby people glare at him. “Tell me what you know or I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Seriously.” Kaminari gives him a confused look. “What’s up with you lately, dude?”

“Nothing.”

It doesn’t sound convincing in the least, and Bakugou has to think about it for a while. Why doesn’t it sound convincing? He’s been running around in his own thoughts ever since that damn dream, and now he’s slamming up against a brick wall. Maybe it’s time to look at things from a different angle.

***

Spending all day sitting on a park bench thinking about his sexuality is the absolute last thing Bakugou ever thought he’d do, but here he is. He’s able to pick out two distinct things from the jigsaw puzzle of his thoughts. 1.) He’s probably in love with Todoroki Shouto. That one’s easy to conclude, what with the dreams and the unintentional staring and all. 2.) He needs to confess said love, before he exposes himself.

Number two is the one he’s getting stuck on. How does one go about confessing their love for their roommate? He could probably turn to TV dramas or manga to find out, or maybe those shitty fanfiction Mina is always reading. Who is he kidding, though? He’s just going to blurt it out, in acquiescence of his typical act-before-you-think behavior.

Bakugou’s been rehearsing the confession in his head with every step taken towards the dorm. So far, the possible outcomes are giving him ghostly pains in his groin, where Todoroki will inevitably kick him. Maybe he should prepare some ice in advance, just to be safe.

Fuck, he’s here already? He was hoping he’d accidentally get lost while deep in thought. No such luck. It’s time to buck up or shut up, as Kirishima would say.

Bakugou raises his fist to knock before realizing that he lives here too, obviously. He must be more nervous than he thought. It takes him four tries to get the door unlocked, his hands are shaking so bad.

Todoroki is sitting at his desk, chin resting in his hand. The sleeve of his sweatshirt is slipping down his arm, revealing a sliver of tantalizing pale wrist. God, his wrists are so fucking small, Bakugou is sure his fingers would touch if he grabbed one. But priorities: he’s on a mission right now. Still, he can’t help but notice the way Todoroki’s hair falls into his face, and the soft curve of his lips as he mutters to himself, and— Fuck.

“I’m in love with you!” spews out of Bakugou’s mouth faster than his subconscious can scream No!

Todoroki jumps, whacking his forehead into his desk lamp. While he’s recovering, Bakugou fights the overwhelming urge to jump out the nearest window. It would be pointless: they’re only on the second floor, so it wouldn’t even kill him. Fuck, he’s such an idiot. With any luck, maybe Todoroki didn’t hear him.

“Did you just… confess to me?” Todoroki looks at him with his wide, stormy eyes, a rosy blush blossoming across his sharp cheekbones, and Bakugou’s heart explodes.

Okay, so the bastard definitely heard him. What‘s his next move? Be direct? Act like it was a joke? Pretend to faint? Fuck, why’d he have to go and open his damn mouth? Why’d he have to fall in love with Todoroki, out of all the people in the world? Todoroki, who’s standing up now, still staring at him, blushing, beautiful, waiting for an answer.

Bakugou’s throat has gone dry. He’s in love with him. He’s in love with him, and it’s about damn time he did something about it. Since when has he been the type of person to get nervous about something like this? He’s Bakugou fucking Katsuki, and he’s in love with his pretty, annoying dipshit of a roommate.

“I’m… in love with you,” Bakugou repeats. It’s not exactly gentle, but it feels gentle, like a softly plucked harp string resonating in the air between them. “I’m in love with you,” he says again, more firmly. “I think I probably have been for a while, and I just thought I’d tell you. So, yeah.”

Todoroki stares at him, his expression unreadable, eyes wide, lips parted, face flushed. He looks like a watercolor painting, all soft lines and bleeding colors. Fuck, he’s just so… ethereal. Bakugou can’t believe he didn’t realize he was in love with him sooner.

“I… don’t really know what to say,” Todoroki murmurs eventually. He swallows, and Bakugou’s eyes trace the tantalizing bob of his throat before flicking back to his face.

“You don’t have to like me back or anything. I just had to tell you before I lost my fucking mind. If you want to beat me up, or ask to switch rooms—“

“No,” Todoroki interrupts quickly, taking another step closer to him. “I mean… No, I don’t want to beat you up. Or switch rooms. I— I just wasn’t expecting this.” He catches his bottom lip between his teeth in a way that nearly gives Bakugou an out-of-body experience. “I can’t tell if I’m in love with you, but I… I do think I like you.”

“You do?” Bakugou croaks. He was forgetting to breathe. “I mean… Really? You’re being serious?”

Todoroki nods, his hair falling into his face when he lowers his head shyly. “I’ve never really… been in love before. I’m not sure how you tell, but I know that I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Oh, God. Is this real? Bakugou’s heart is nearly impaling itself against his rib-cage. He sincerely hopes this isn’t a dream. But if it is, they’d probably be fucking already, so it’s a good sign that Todoroki still has his clothes on.

“Then, should I…” Bakugou swallows thickly. He’s almost afraid to ask. “I mean, can I… kiss you?”

Todoroki’s hesitant nod shatters the world into spiraling shards of multicolored glass. His timid, soft, “Okay,” sends the pieces shooting into the stratosphere.

Bakugou thought he would be impatient when given this opportunity, but his limbs move in slow motion. His hands slide down Todoroki’s arm to his slim wrist, fingertips pressing against his hammering pulse.

He’s never kissed anyone before, but it doesn’t look that complicated. He’s seen enough movies to know how to start. He slips his hand around Todoroki’s neck. His pulse is hammering against his throat, too, and when Bakugou pulls him closer, he can almost feel it against his lips.

The kiss is slow at first, barely a touch. God, Todoroki’s mouth is soft. Are lips allowed to be this soft?

Todoroki makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, and Bakugou feels it vibrating in every single one of his pores. He pushes further, slipping his tongue across Todoroki’s upper lip, catching the bottom between his teeth. He makes that desperate sound again, fingers tangling in Bakugou’s T-shirt.

Kissing never looked all that appealing when he sneered at it on the train or at the park, and Bakugou can’t believe he thought that up until now. There’s fireworks exploding in his synapses, spreading warmth to every part of him all at once. When he slips his tongue in Todoroki’s mouth, the warmth turns to a raging fire boiling beneath his skin.

He forgot about his hands, but now he uses them to pull Todoroki even closer, closer. He’s breathing into Bakugou’s mouth, or maybe stealing air from him, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheek like moth wings. His own tongue slides across Bakugou’s, tentatively, but with a purpose.

Fuck. Fuck. He’s losing his mind. How do you breathe, again? The last thing he wants to do is stop kissing Todoroki, but he needs to take in air or he’ll pass out.

They part, and Bakugou covers his lips, which still taste of Todoroki. His other hand is still on Todoroki’s waist, displacing his shirt to show a sliver of pale skin. “Does…” He lets out a weak exhale, forcing his brain to work again. “Does that help answer your question?”

With Todoroki’s speechless, idiotic nod, Bakugou’s heart is displaced again. Pieces of it go floating through his bloodstream, settling in the places Todoroki is touching him. One hand sliding up his arm, under his sleeve, the other tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck.

Fuck, this is so much better than a dream.

[jiminisnotavirgin]

BTS Reaction: Their First Time

warnings: smut, fluff and cute stuff

pairings: each member | reader

note: i’m not sure why i had so many issues coming up with ideas and scenarios (especially hoseok’s) but i think it’s good for me to practice my writing with these shorter scenarios and reactions so i hope you enjoy these :) i’ll try to finish the others i’ve started soon. i tried to make these as awkward and realistic as i could bc why not? sex ain’t like the movies and that’s okay.

also, this might be tmi but i wanted to let y’all know that i use my writing to help me understand my issues with intimacy and it helps me to understand and get more in touch with myself! i can write the heck out of any scene but when it comes to intimacy it’s complicated and as time goes on, things get better and i care less about my past! thanks for being a part of this and checking out my writing!

Kim Seokjin

You clear your throat. “Uh, do you know what you’re doing over there because—“

“Huh? What? Huh? Yes, of course, I do!”

You’re not one for dating through apps but a few days ago you decided to give it a shot. He’s the first guy you matched with. He’s slightly awkward but cute and chock full of dad jokes that actually make you laugh.

As you lay across his neat bed with your black fishnet stockings, you realize that you probably couldn’t be any more different than him and yet you couldn’t be more interested in the event unfolding before your eyes. You’ve fucked rockers and gritty men of all kind but unexpectedly, none have piqued your interest like Jin has.

Although his back is turned, you can hear how he fumbles with the condom in his hand and then you realize. He doesn’t know how to put a condom on which means he’s either inexperienced or... hmm. Maybe.

“Come here,” you ask.

“I-I told you, I got—“

“Come,” you repeat, this time with an edge of command in your tone. This is gonna be fun.

Min Yoongi

“Yoongi, let me do this for you. I want to.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I was drunk and I didn’t mean it?”

“So you don’t want me to go down on you?” It was more of a statement than a question.

He looks away with a frustrated sigh. One glance at your pouty face and he’s a goner, like always. “Why would you even want to anyway?”

“Because I want to make you feel good. I want you to cum in my mouth and I wanna taste all of you.” He felt himself get hard just imagining your hot mouth on him, your plump lips licking and making a mess of your composed self for him.

“Only if I can down on you afterward.”

“Deal.”

Hoseok

His body is like water. Every move is smooth and effortlessly graceful. To say you’ve been merely eying your dance instructor for the past few weeks is an understatement. If he hadn’t caught onto your flirting and horrible attempt at learning how to pop and lock to impress him then you would’ve been left a horny mess. His lips are smooth against yours, pushing and pulling in tongue-twisting dance.

“Your lips are so sweet,” you admit and grab onto his collar to bring him closer. He smells sweet, too. He’s shy to admit but he’s been watching you too. You’re ungrateful but determined and he couldn’t be more excited.

Namjoon

“Namjoon, you don’t have to be shy with me,” you promise with a sweet whisper. He doesn’t understand why he’s acting this way with you. You two have been dating for a while and he has to remember that although he’s a bit insecure about his body, he shouldn’t project these feelings onto his relationship with you; it’s one thing he’s completely confident about.

He was used to hiding in the shadows, avoiding extra socializing until he met you. Like the spark of a firework in the dark, you lit up his world and turned his life upside down in the best way possible. He is certainly one of the kindest individuals you’ve ever met and you’ll never understand why he took a chance on someone like you.

He huffs in a sudden burst of confidence and slides off his pink t-shirt in one go. You sit up on your elbows and watch as Namjoon approaches you from the edge of the bed. He isn’t ridiculously muscular but his lean figure is smooth with soft skin taking up space where some guys have abs. You don’t want those guys, though. You want Namjoon.

You trail your hand over his chest, exploring the skin you’ve never had the chance of touching. You place a kiss on his shoulder and smile, causing Namjoon to trip on his own shoelace and into your arms.

“Oh my god.” His groans are muffled into your shoulder. “I can’t do anything right.”

You giggle and poke his nose. “It’s perfect, Namjoon. You’re perfect, shh.”

Jimin

His blonde strands stick to the sweaty droplets on his forehead. You rest one palm on his chest and use the other to align his erection with your core.

“Baby, are you sure you—“

“Please,” he groans loudly, unable to control the spurt of precum dripping from his tip and onto your hand. You rub his plump tip against your clit, mixing your juices and covering his hard length in your clear arousal.

“Oh, f-fuck,” he stutters when your walls envelop him in one thrust. Squeezing the sides of his legs with your thighs, you lower yourself until you’re fully seated on his lap and filled to the brim. You raise yourself just the slightest bit, moving slowly to feel every ridge of his dick inside. Euphoria is mild compared to the rush coursing through Jimin’s veins.

Taehyung

“Whoa, you’re so... big,” you remark, unaware that the thought escaped your brain and made its way to the world through your blabber mouth. Although Taehyung claims he’s avoided intimacy with you because he’s afraid of “hurting you,” you know these excuses are to take the attention off of him and his own personal ideas about sex. His friends and their stupid locker room talk have intimidated him and made him nervous about having sex. The last thing he wants to do with you is one of those extremely aggressive things his friends talk about and he can’t decide if it’s for your sake or his. You blame your society and the toxic things it teaches men about what intimacy should “be” like.

You’ve thoroughly discussed consent with him and the two of you have gradually moved from kissing to oral (at his request!). Now, as he leans over you with his hard dick in his shaking hand, you lightly push him off to talk.

You rest your hands on his shoulders and push a lock of hair off his forehead before gazing into his eyes. “Let’s stop, Tae. You shouldn’t be so stressed about this and it should all come naturally. ”

“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. I don’t know what I want.”

“You can’t force yourself to do this and you shouldn’t have to just because all the guys are talking about it. That’s dumb. This is between me and you, not them. It’s about taking one step at a time whenever you’re ready. Now put on your clothes and come on, let’s watch a movie.”

Jungkook

In the past, your best friend has tried to hide that he’s a virgin and you’ve insisted that it simply doesn’t matter. He believes you now as you exchange the sweet flavor of fruit punch and saliva in a hot kiss. You suck lightly on the soft skin of his neck, occasionally teasing with the tip of your teeth. He whimpers when you press your hand over the hard growth straining against his jeans. It’s painful and you know just the trick.

Mischief sinks into your brown eyes and you lick your lips, lowering yourself to your knees and quickly unbuttoning his jeans. He shifts awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do next but also not wanting to stop you. The look of determination in your eyes is enticing.

“I-I’ve never done this before,” he hesitates.

“I know, you big goofball.”

Although 7 minutes in heaven (in a broom closet) at a house party is far from how he imagined his first time, he knows you’ll rock his world the same way you do with everything else. He never thought it would be you and he’d be lying if he said his crush on you didn’t multiply exponentially as soon as you hauled him into the closet.

You tug down his jeans and boxers in one swoop, immediately wrapping your mouth around the plump head of his erection. You lick every drop of his salty precum like a parched woman in a desert. He sputters, desperately searching for something to clutch onto before his fingers settle into your messy hair. You bob up and down, sucking in your cheeks so that he feels every part of your wet mouth pleasuring him.

“I’m gonna c-c—“ he begins, but before he has the chance to finish, he releases in your mouth without any warning. An embarrassed blush rises to his cheeks but you stand up to kiss him and erase any fears he has about this moment.

[wheelthefridge]

in honor of last night having been my last ever shift dishwashing at the same restaurant i’ve been at for the past four years here’s an absurdly long list of random chaotic moments that literally no one asked for that i’ve been compiling since day one:

bj, with a half full gallon of orange juice: this expired two months ago. *pours down drain* that was a long time ago

sam: YOU! I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU!! *carries on normally with no explanation* bj: smack that! that too! smack those vegetables! punch that burger in the nose! chop that bun! bob: no, flick the bun. you have to flick it. 

*bad and boujee playing* bj: walks into kitchen, singing bj: you better know when to hold em, know when to fold em, know when to walk away, know when to run bj: walks out of kitchen, still singing

me: hey can you put the wet floor sign out for me dylan: sure dylan: *slips while putting the sign out* me:

sam: get this- i haven’t smoked pot in like three days and my brain is ready to roll! yeah!

joe: ha! oldest trick in the book i just started writing 

dude @bar: ten percent of people are over 6'1" other dude: what about 6'2"  dude 1: what? no. ten percent of people are OVER 6'1" - so that includes 6'2" dude 2: idk I know a lot of tall guys. taller than me dude 1: what? i’m saying- just- ten percent of everyone in the whole world- you know how many people there are in the world? 7 billion– dude 2: i thought it was six billion  dude 1: no, 7 billion- ten percent of 7 billion—

joe, digging through the trash: i’m just gonna peruse through here,, aaaaannnd….. nope not here me: what’re u looking for Joe: …..a book

didi: is eating a pistachio  katherine: is that sour cream

sam: some dirty whorebag wants two pickles 

joe: sam she am. that’s right. dr seuss wrote a book about her 

katherine: oh my goddd this song is always on i’m so tired of it joe: is it? i don’t think i’ve heard it before carolyn: eh it’s all just one long brazilian song to me

katherine: look at my straw i put it in the pencil sharpener 

sam: i’m on crack cocaine. you heard it here

sam, aggressively putting silverware in the tray: just the way the cookie crumbles me: yeah? sam, fake crying: yes

adele: if you’re ready- sam: what if I’m not bob: too bad. she only cares if she’s ready

something: *breaks* sam: time for the mop. and by mop i mean… this thing *holds up dustpan*

mike: you should go on junior master chef…. and only make fries 

sam, quietly as she speedwalks by me: panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic

sam, beginning of the night: my goal is to make at least forty bucks tonight. hopefully sixty sam, later that night: i’ve made five dollars

sam, pouring a drink into the trash right next to the sink: you know, im not sure why i poured that in the trash. i’ve had a very off day

katherine, after accidentally spraying salsa on herself: i just sprayed salsa all over myself bj: i feel like that too sometimes. i love salsa so much

sam: can you imagine if i did like hardcore drugs how messed up i would be- i’m messed up soberly

someone: what’re you supposed to feed twenty kids  kerry: pizza bj: vodka 

sam: will you let bob know there’s gonna be seven in the snug bj: seven in the snug? that’s my band name. we’re really good

edson: *spins cover on counter and stares at it for solid thirty seconds before putting his finger down to stop it* edson: good. 

sam: what should i draw bj: you should draw casey, hanging from a cliff, with a pterodactyl flying towards them who is on fire, but, seems optimistic about it 

bj: life is too short for low fat cheese. remember that. 

sam, beginning of night, in a really good mood: guess what i’m drunk and high right now  sam, later that night: i was just pouring a beer and i dropped it. like my hand just let go of it sam, end of night: i’m never doing this again 

joe: you know who didn’t clock out yet?? i have two thumbs! joe: ……wait joe: you know who has two thumbs and hasn’t clocked out yet?? this guy!! me: there ya go buddy

bob: i’ve slept fifteen hours in the past four days me: that’s not good bob: yeah

edson: look edson: *holds out hand with top spinning in his palm* *giggles*

sam: i cannot wait for this day to be over  me: it’s barely started  sam: i took a shot before i got here. i have more in my car

bob: hi sam sam: hi bob  didi: hi sam sam: fuck off

joe: her? oh yeah her name is sarah whitaker  katherine: oh i think i know her joe: that’s funny because i just made that up. i’m willing to bet money that she’s nineteen tho me: why joe: bc i overheard her say that she’s nineteen

joe: i’m gonna send you a video but you can’t watch it now it’s needs full attention with headphones and the lights off 

bj: if you lose your hand, don’t replace it with a fork. that would be a bad choice. i know it’s probably the cheapest option, right up there with stick, but just spend the money. 

bj, on a different day: i think if you were to get your hands cut off, getting them replaced with plates would be a very bad idea. you can dig. and you can toss. but that’s about it. no playing the saxophone.  

colby: *doesn’t show up to work* bj: maybe i should leave him a message of just me crying 

katherine: i think an old man just asked me to live with him

sam: wait *pulls celery strings out of her mouth* that just came out of my throat

bob: i’m such a grump tonight. i’m in a good mood i’m just so grumpy.  bob: maybe i’m not in a good mood…

bj, after sending christa downstairs to get liquor for the bar: i put a live cobra down there too so… if she comes back with it dead in her hands…. she’s a champ. and that’s that. 

bj: i had a dog today did you have a dog? me: no bj: oh. well. 

dylan, holding phone camera at joe: hey joe can you pull ur shirt down joe, pulling the collar of his shirt halfway down his chest: yeah like this? dylan, taking picture: yeah thanks 

bj: HI-YAH carley: you’re a ninja!! bj: yes. don’t be alarmed. i only use my powers for good. 

bj, with one bottle in each hand, pouring water in the sink, mimicking cow milking motions: it’s like a cow. mooooooeeeeeeuuuuuhhhhhhgggg aaaaaauuuuuueuejhshhsii. that’s what cows sound like right?

bj: we have a dog, and we’re getting chickens. i’m not really sure why were getting chickens. do i consider myself a farmer? not really. 

bj: we should make a youtube channel of just me saying really random things to you and you not responding to me whatsoever me: mhmm

nancy: I’m sleeping

sam: *pours drink out on counter next to sink* sam: wHAT the FuCK was that!? why did i do that?? i’ve lost it! i’ve hit rock bottom!!

sam: *bends over* ughhhhhhhhhhhhh *straightens up* ok i’m fine

bj: yum! that’s how i rate the soup. two yums up!! *laughs for like a full minute*

sam: i got my motorcycle license over the weekend and now all everyone’s saying to me is “no don’t get a motorcycle they’re so dangerous” like shut the fuck up if i die i die it’s my choice 

bj: i think if i were to be turned into some kind of commercial type of food, if i got turned into a nugget, i think i’d be indignant. i’ve lived my whole life and now i’m a nugget??? “oh i was a great roasted-“ i was a nugget. i was eaten with fries out of a box with a small soda. 

bj: hello everybody. i have arrived. please remain calm.  bob: *screams*

radio: the fastest lawn mower in the world goes up to 150 miles per hour! bob: …….why??

sam: i just meowed in scotty’s face and he was completely unfazed by it. like a full on Meow. 

bob: lemme just touch these live wires with my wet hands  bj: bob has gone offline

katherine: i totally forgot to put their order in for i don’t even know how long me: ……..i’m sure it’ll be fine katherine: i mean, nothing matters, right? right. nothing matters. 

bj: hey did you guys hear that kate: yeah what was that bj: oh i was just yelling……….. about the soup kate: me: katherine: bj: i’ll try to keep it down next time

bob: you sleep a lot when you’re old. it’s just practice for death. getting ready for The Big Sleep. let’s see how do i wanna go out? on my back?? nah not for me. on my front babey! 

didi: hi sam sam: SHUT UP didi, quieter: okay…… sam: i love you  didi: no bj: so you’re a grownup now. that’s means you have to do grown up things, like, pay for dinner and stuff? me: uh huh bj: it’s all downhill from here 

bj: pon pon the van poco. right? me: mhmm bj: probably. i mean. i’m no doctor, but

random woman @ bar: we are the matrix. We. Are. The Matrix. 

bj, to the tune of frosty the snowman: clunkity clunk clunk clunkity clunk clunk look at all this stuff. clunkity clunk clunk clunkity clunk clunk making casey’s job tough! pretty good right?? i just made it up 

bj: *walks into kitchen* YES! that’s all i have to say. that’s it. BOBS killing it. DIDIS killing it. casey MURDERED it. you’re welcome. *walks out of kitchen* bj: today is the second day in a row my dog has eaten my lunch. yesterday and then today. it’s my own fault really bob: well you know what they say about men who like floppy french fries. *doesn’t elaborate*

sam: there’s a toy baby in my section. like just a toy baby taking up a seat in my section. what do i do like do i move the bitch? do i leave her there??

bob, talking to himself: if you get sick tomorrow, just remember. it’s your own fault for eating food off the floor. 

bob, to katherine: no, you don’t have to mop the carpet

bj: cheeeesy. 

laura: if i get through tonight without a heart attack it’ll be incredible. if i do have a heart attack tho just let me go

caldo: *unintelligible yelling* SELLING my BODY for SEX *more unintelligible yelling*

bob: my fathers brother sent all his kids to australia. i guess he figured at least one of them would make it

caldo: i don’t trust people who go out to eat tuna fish

bob: can you make some more guacamole soon we’re running low laura: pulls five (5) avocados from her pockets 

bob: he looks like jesus. well. he looks like what white people think jesus looked like

sam: yeah. Please. eat some more mother Fucking crackers. 

bj: i feel like i gave birth to the eggplant stacks tonight. and honestly? if my child looked like that? i’d be proud. proud to have an eggplant child

bj: alright everybody let’s get the fuf out of here!! i said fuf not f- it’s safe. f u f starts and ends with soft letters no one gets hurt. any word that starts with a soft letter and ends with a hard letter is bad news… i feel like every time i come in here i annoy you guys. casey’s one dumbass comment away from killing me. “hey so what are your thoughts on grass?” “that’s it” *mimics shooting a gun*

ilia: -and the dogs gonna get diabetes- katherine, indignantly: i cleaned it really well!

mickey: i’ll tell you one thing. crack is good. 

sam: some lady just rolled up to the bar, no bra, nipples beamin through the shirt- LETS GET IT!!!!

caldo: *speed walks into kitchen and shotguns a beer over the trash* ok i’m back. i should not have smoked this morning

dom: little kid just picked up a knife and went “oh cool i can stab someone” me, katherine, and sam in unison: good dom: yeah the dad took it away 

sam: my friend was like “why is your go to dance move just to snap” and i was like “i don’t know, i’m white” *shrugs*

bj: someone just asked me if i’m having fun. am i having fun? i don’t know if i’m having fun. there are certainly other things i’d rather be doing right now, but i don’t know if i can definitively say that i’m Not having fun. 

bj: some jobs require Only a ladle bj, thirty seconds later, after walking away and coming back: sometimes, also a funnel

bj, @ laura who’s eating cornbread: you cornbread eating chef!!!  laura: bj: laura: bj: i’m just saying facts in a weird way. you know like you’re in trouble. 

sam: *war cry* *spits out gum* *walks away*

bj: what kind of smoothie? Soup Smoothie!!

katherine: so this woman ordered some hot water so i gave it to her and her husband says you know what that’s for right and i’m like ….to drink? and he says nope! and doesn’t explain so i’m just like ………..okay! and walk away bc i don’t even want to know 

bj: there’s no shame in it! A Grown Man Can Bathe In Yogurt!!!

bj, leaning down very close to to-go box: i love you

bob: anyone want a drink? brian: whatever’s your strongest bob: milk it is

guy at bar: sUE HIM?!?!??? oh i’d sue him yeah

sam: who orders something extra cold?? like, you need to Die now thanks. 

sam: do you dare me to drink this buffalo sauce me: yes laura, walking by: snort it

sam: one more day. just one more day laura: of what sam: waking up

bob: *is trying to explain easter to jewish laura* laura: wait so he died… then he came back to life?? then he died Again??? bob: he died. then he came back just to tell people he was alive. then he said SEE YA and ascended to heaven

sam: i HATE margaritas. i don’t know why i just made myself one. 

bob: wow. i have this overpowering urge to just go home. 

bj, putting back a slotted spoon: this is a bad choice for dressing. a bad choice. 

me: *catches a plate about to fall* bj: woah! smooth moves!! spider-man? maybe. 

danny: so you know how at my other job everyone calls me daddy?

sam: *dumps out two full wine glasses* i fucked up. tell no one. 

me: remember when we used to be able to leave early? bob: no. i think we imagined it. 

danny: i didn’t realize we served DICK here -a few min later- danny: sorry i just got out of work and i’m all fired up

sam: my moms drunk and she won’t go home

bob: hey wasn’t that slang for mari- bj: cocaine. 

bj: *kicks kitchen door open* YEE-HAW!!!!

danny: sorry casey  me: what for  danny: for having to deal with me me: yeah *shrugs* danny: they should pay you more me: yeah

didi: i kill you ilia: do it now didi: no ilia: do it i wanna die

danny, about a burger: we’ve got ourselves a squirter!!

sam: is that a chicken patty  sydney: it’s my dog

sam, on my last night with her: lets get casey TRASHED tonight

sam: are you gonna go dancing in new york didi: yes laura: whore it up

[4lix]

restless nights; lee minho

[listening to] .... babybaby; suran 

Hi bubs, may I request a college au with Minho where the reader works at the coffee shop on campus (saving money because college is expensive af) and Minho having no sleep needs coffee, bus is awakened by the beauty of the reader?

can you do coffee shop minho but he’s like, totally not coffee shop material haha like he’s a dancer or something and school isn’t his thing and hes just really flirty?? if that makes sense????? thank you!!!! <3 

okay so these two were a bit similar

so me and my third eye decided to combine them 

bc coffee au x college au WITH MINHO? bitch its an experience 

so basically as the struggling college student you are who is living off of ramen noodles and the potato chips you found in the back of your cabinet last semester, you decided to get a job

but lets get real who the hell wants to work 

luckily the sweet old lady who owns the cafe down the block from your campus recently decided to go 24 hours

which meant more shifts available 

and meant you could maybe eat something besides ramen noodles and god was that a blessing. 

luckily you had afternoon classes, so working the night shift wasn’t an issue, plus it was only ever just you and a few customers, so the shift was quiet, peaceful, and you could get extra studying in when customers weren’t bothering you. 

for months working there it was peaceful, almost too peaceful, on the verge of being mind-numbingly boring

the only people who ever came in were miserable college students and old men who played bingo in the back 

until a week before finals, a boy who looked like he hasn’t slept in a billion years came stumbling inside, making all types of noise and heavy rap music blasting through his headphones, ruining the previously peaceful atmosphere

he doesn’t look like the type of boy to be in a coffee shop

he had this rugged look about him, hair an absolute mess and shoved inside of a beanie messily, his clothing a bit oversized and hanging off his body, and an adidas duffel bag alongside his backpack hanging off his shoulders 

probably an athlete of some sort 

he was your only customer you had all night 

the boy clearly lacked sleep, after he threw all his shit on a random table in the corner of the cafe, he stumbled over towards the counter eyes lazily meeting yours

as cliche as it is, the moment his eyes landed on your face, it’s like a surge of energy ran through his body 

he immediately straightened his figure, clearing his throat before trying to smile nicely, his previously pale face warming up to a shade of pretty pink

“h-hi..” he mutters nervously, and you greet him nicely with what you’ve been trained to say to everyone that walks in.

“hello! what can i get for you tonight? we’re doing a promotion for our night owls, free refills on all lattes after midnight!” you say with a bright smile and you swear you see him melt right then and there before he shakes his head and lets out of small laugh

“honestly, i don’t even really like coffee.” he admits and you turn your head in a bit of confusion

“so what exactly are you doing at a coffee shop?” you ask amusedly, and the boy with eye bags deeper than oceans looks up to meet eyes with you and maybe it was you melted that this time

he was... cute, dare you say the cutest boy you’ve ever seen, although you know most people wouldn’t consider this look he was sporting to be too attractive... i mean the boy had a hole in his shirt and his hair looks like it hasn’t been brushed in days

“well there’s one thing i hate more than coffee.” he says simply, taking off his beanie briefly and running his fingers through his hair 

and just fuck it killed you 

“it’s getting kicked off the dance team because i’m failing organic chemistry. also now that i’m here, a pretty face like yours is definitely a reason to stick around” he says with a wink. 

god where the hell did this boy come from 

it was ass o clock and he clearly hadn’t slept in what looked like days but the flirtatious parts of his brain were working harder than the u.s marines.  

you stammered on your next words, cheeks dusting a slight pink, “u-uh-””

“i just need something that will wake me up, i have a quiz at noon tomorrow and i haven’t studied at all, whip me up something real good yeah?”

in with that he drops a bill on the table, saying a quick keep the change babe before he winks one last time, turns around and heads back to his seat

well its safe to say your kidney imploded 

why was he so ridiculously attractive? 

you couldn’t even move for a few moments after he walked away, and you swore you heard chuckles coming from his corner of the cafe, the little shit was amused by it all wasn’t he?

shaking your head, you start queueing up an order for your favorite latte on the menu with the most amount of caffeine possible. the boy looked dead, he’d need lots of it.

how exactly were you going to even give the boy his damn drink

even pushing the buttons for placing his order had your face burning red 

nonetheless you make the drink to the best of your ability, never bothering to care about measurements but fuck when its a customer that beautiful? suddenly you love your job, call you the world’s finest barista. 

while the coffee brewed, you couldn’t help but gaze dazedly at the boy across the room. 

he came here to study but it looked like he was already knocked out cold, head resting in his arms, his face completely exposed and you just abashedly admired his charms and beauty from afar. 

when the drink was finally done, you almost didn’t want to move his figure, but if the mountain of papers next to his body was anything to go by, he needed to be up and working.

you nudge him slightly, “white chocolate mocha with five shots of espresso.” you state simply, proud of yourself for not stuttering

his eyes slowly open, falling onto you and the cup in your hands 

he smiles kindly at you, thanking you before taking the drink out of your hands 

“let me know if you like it, if there’s any changes you want made I can fix it no problem!” thank goodness for all the training and practice you’ve had saying your directed lines, if it wasn’t for the training you’d probably be stumbling over every syllable. 

he takes a sip, and instantly his eyes widen.

“woah, i don’t even like coffee, but this is fucking amazing.” he compliments and you smile at him gratefully before taking your leave back behind the counter

the rest of the night is slow, just the sound of the boy typing away at his computer and the occasional turn of a page as you try to cram through reading a literature essay. 

“ahem”

you look up, it’s the boy again, a mischiveous smile on his face 

“could i get that refill?” he asks but there’s a lilt to his voice, something that makes you feel like he’s onto something, but you just nod regardless, turning around and whipping it up for him

he takes it thankfully and winks again

you go back to your essay 

fifteen minutes pass, and you hear footsteps walking towards the front counter again

“refill?” he says with a grin and you tilt your head slightly, “i just gave you one?” 

“i already finished it, it’s free refills after midnight right?” 

“well yeah but-”

“okay so i’d like a refill on my white chocolate mocha latte with five shots of espresso.” he says with a stupid grin and you find yourself getting slightly annoyed with the boy and his antics but nonetheless you turn around and prepare another drink for him

this goes on for another hour

you’ve made him like eight drinks

and god knows how he hasn’t exploded from all the liquid in his system

it isn’t until 4am, just an hour before your shift ends that the boy finally rises out of his seat, nine drinks later, stretching 

he begins packing up his stuff and you can’t tell if you’re relieved or kind of upset that he’s leaving. 

he stops by the counter one last time before he goes, sliding a paper your way 

“y’know i ordered all those drinks in hopes that you’d write your number down on one of them, but, seems like you didn’t get my drama reference.” that dumb smirk is back on his face and your face is burning up again, a laugh slipping past your lips

“instead of abusing me at work like this, you could’ve just asked for my number, you know that right? i went through like a pound of coffee beans and a carton of creamer because of you.” 

“and to think every cup was delicious to the last drop... you need a raise, really.” he slides a piece of paper toward you, “text me and maybe i can make you coffee next time?”

“you dont even like coffee, do you even know how to make it?” 

“i’ll learn.” 

“just for me? wow what a charmer you are.” 

“i get that a lot.” he winks 

“is your eye okay? you’ve winked like fifty times tonight.” you tease

“technically it’s morning.”

“technically you’re irritating.” 

he chuckles at your sassiness.

“you’re cute. ... y/n?” he reads your nametag 

“hate to say it but you’re kind of cute too.....” you hesitate for a moment, realizing you dont know his name

“minho, lee minho, i gotta get going, but text me, or else i’m coming back here tomorrow and i’m gonna order a hundred cups this time.” 

“i’m going to ban you from ever coming back to this cafe.”

“you’d never.”

“what makes you so sure of that?”

“well, if you did, who would you stare at all night if i wasn’t here?” for fucks sake he winks again and even makes a kissy face before throwing his backpack over his shoulder

“text me!” is all he shouts before leaving and you cup your face trying to calm the heat in your cheeks

you do text him, in fact you talk for hours, but he still decides to come to bother you for another night and it seemingly never ends as minho becomes a regular at the cafe.

you aren’t complaining though, the night shift isn’t so lonely with him here. 

let’s talk! („ᵕᴗᵕ„) [cc] https://curiouscat.me/chansmaid

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