#unwind oneshot

[heliads]

the brother of a god - lucas lassiter

Even with Connor taken away by the Juvey-cops, Lucas can't stop himself from wondering about the brother he used to have.

masterlist

Lucas Lassiter wakes up and he doesn’t have a brother. 

He didn’t have one yesterday, either. Or last week. This should stop being a surprise. Is there a point at which the novelty wears off, really? When you stop forgetting that you haven’t always been an only child? That a few weeks ago, Juvey-cops broke into your house and took your brother, and your parents let it happen because they asked for it in the first place?

Lucas won’t forget. He has promised himself this. There was a boy named Connor Lassiter in this very house, and he tormented Lucas all the time except for when he lost interest, and when he was a good brother who taught Lucas how to ride a bicycle and how to run from guys who were bigger than you. They say Connor ran from the Juvey-cops, that he’s still hidden somewhere no one can find him. Lucas wonders if he remembers Connor’s lessons well enough to do the same thing if he ever had to.

He’s supposed to be moving on. His parents have told him that. The special therapist they hired when it became increasingly clear that Lucas couldn’t just up and forget that Connor used to live right down the hall keeps reminding him that the past is the unchangeable past, but it isn’t. Not to Lucas. Memories of his brother refuse to leave him. For that to happen, they’d have to unwind the parts of his brain, too, the ones that still hold Connor, and they’ve assured him that won’t happen again. No more sons lost to the harvest camps. But they might have told that to Connor, too, and look how that worked out.

Privately, Lucas wonders if he can’t let go of his brother because he’s terrified the same thing that happened to Connor will happen to him. Maybe Lucas will not be good enough either. Maybe he will bomb a math test and his parents will start reconsidering. A botched strikeout in a faulty game and they’ll wonder about the forms they signed in triplicate again. It was easy enough the first time. Surely it would be a simple thing to do it again. 

No. No. It won’t happen to him. Lucas is— Lucas is the good one. Yeah, he’s the good one, and Connor wasn’t. Connor got in trouble all the time. Connor stayed out late and picked fights and did everything an under-eighteen shouldn’t. God, it was like—

Like he wanted to be unwound. Like he wanted to die. 

But that’s not true. Connor loved living. That’s why he went about his days like even the rules couldn’t stop him from enjoying his life like he wanted. Connor lived more than Lucas will, even if Lucas never gets unwound, even if he survives to a hundred and one. Lucas could do stupid things like go sky-diving and play chicken on the railroad tracks and he’d still never get that vicarious glint in his eyes that Connor had all the time. Connor knew how to live. He hopes whoever gets that grisly chunk of Connor’s brain gets to live like that, too. 

Lucas thinks it would be incredible. Like flying. Connor felt more than anyone. That’s why Lucas couldn’t do anything but stand, frozen, on the flight of stairs, as the Juvey-cops hauled Connor away into a small car and took him away forever. Connor was so afraid– it wasn’t right. Lucas couldn’t imagine a world in which Connor was that terrified. So he stood there and did nothing and let his brother go get butchered. They say Connor started running later. Once he remembered how, maybe. Or when he realized no one was going to help him anymore. Not even his own brother.

Lucas had not run. He had stayed on that stairwell, looking uncertainly towards the door, watching the lights of the car drive away. His parents had told him to go to bed, but even after he forced his feet back inside his room, Lucas couldn’t sleep. He lay awake hands folded across his stomach like a corpse, wondering if his brother was dead yet. Wondering how a father decides his boy isn’t good enough to live. Wondering how a mom stops wanting two boys and decides just one will be fine.

And the worst part is, with Connor gone, Lucas still isn’t the most important Lassiter brother. He had assumed that he would be. Which is stupid, and mean, but true. He would be the best. He always had been, historically– fewer fights, higher grades, and of course the fact that he hasn’t yet been unwound is a definite plus in his favor– but it’s still not as certain as he would like. If he does not improve his act, if he does not clearly prove that he is the favorite child and not just the one left over, what will stop Connor’s fate from befalling him? The Lassiters have already unwound one child. They can do it again.

And when his family sits around the table, when his father instinctively puts out a glass of water at an empty chair or his mom starts to make a fourth plate to set out late, they start remembering these things too late. That Connor isn’t coming back. Sometimes they call Lucas down for a meal and they say Connor’s name first. Even after he’s gone, Connor is the one that matters. Lucas is just there in the background. Another option once the first one failed.

One time in history class, they were talking about the royal family, how they’d have the first son to inherit the throne and the second just in case. A spare. Lucas thinks he gets how it feels now. He’s the spare parts, the extra set of bones and blood because the first one didn’t pan out as they hoped. He’d better get his stuff together, because there isn’t another one. Just him, and that’s an awful heavy load to bear. Maybe that’s why Connor went crazy. Maybe that’s why he wanted to stay out late and duck curfew. He didn’t want that title, and now Lucas doesn’t, anyway. Only there’s no one left to save him now.

The other kids ask Lucas about Connor in school. They talk about him a lot, actually. They’re not supposed to. Typically, the way of the world is that a student will be unwound, creating a hotbed of heated rumors about what would happen for a parent to love their kid better in pieces, and then even the most intense whispers die down and it’s like nothing ever happened. The theories about their unwinding get attributed to other kids, and soon people start forgetting if their name started with an R or an S, if he was a Harlan or a Humphrey, if he was ever someone who had gone to their school at all. Unwound not just in body, but in name, too. In memory. In every way that matters.

Connor is the exception. Even weeks later, Connor Lassiter is still the most important topic of conversation. Lucas can’t go anywhere without hearing his name. A few of the braver kids have gone up to Lucas directly to ask about him– does he ever hear from his brother, will Connor come back and kill his whole family out of revenge, does he receive secrets about underground Unwind rings? Lucas says no to all of them, but he’s not sure anyone believes him.

Privately, Lucas cannot decide if he is bothered by the absence of news from his brother or not. He did not help Connor escape. He was unable to do anything but stand there, gaping, as the Juvey-cops loaded Connor into a car and drove him away to die. He has wondered, before, if he would have any idea if Connor was still on the lam at all. 

Maybe one day he would walk home after school and meet somebody with Connor’s eyes. He wouldn’t realize the pupils belonged to his brother until one of the eyelids unconsciously winked at him. A last laugh from beyond the knife. Such a Connor thing to do that Lucas can’t believe it hasn’t already happened.

Lucas wants to believe that he’s on Connor’s mind as much as Connor’s on his, but the worst part is, even Lucas can’t believe it’s true. It’s Connor’s world, always has been. Connor Lassiter is in the eye of this world-shattering hurricane, all gusty winds and rushing floods. Everyone around him gets caught up in the current, but there’s no room for anyone else to matter. Even supposedly dead, even on the run, even unwound, they are in Connor’s storm, not the other way around. Even alive, Lucas still isn’t the Lassiter that matters the most.

He should hate it. He does, maybe, but the guilt comes trickling in around the edges of his anger and Lucas starts remembering when he looked up to his brother like a god. On his knees, begging for the effortlessly cool outlaw to glance at him sideways. Just young enough to stop getting on Connor’s radar unless they were right in front of each other. Old enough to know he’d never catch up even if he started running with all his might. Lucas is Lucas. Connor is the Akron AWOL. There’s no beating that.

Lucas goes to bed that night and wonders if any of this will ever be over. There’s no freeing himself from the tidal wave of Connor’s reputation. He’ll die, maybe, or he’ll age out. Lucas wonders if Connor will ever come back to spit in his face or curse him out or just say goodbye for good this time. Maybe Lucas will slam the door. Or he’ll listen. Or they’ll never speak again. Brothers like them aren’t meant to last, and they haven’t by now. Stranded on opposite sides of the country. Feels like they’re on opposite ends of the earth. The Lassiters are gone. Maybe Connor will remain. Lucas is gone already.

He glances at his phone one last time before he closes his eyes and is rewarded with a fresh headline. Akron AWOL seen near Ohio. Lucas can’t even open it. He screams into his pillow, raw and guttural, then snaps his eyes shut and falls asleep like that. When he wakes the next morning, he finds that he’s still cradling his phone as if it were someone real. Someone important. 

Like a brother. 

unwind tag list: @reinekes-fox, @locke-writes, @sirofreak

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[bug-with-rabies]

WHAT AN AMAZING FIC OMG IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH

unwind holiday week day 1: snow day ❄️

risa ward, hayden upchurch, connor lassiter (hayconrisa)

~600 words

a little cabin fever never hurt an AWOL

Risa never liked winter.

When she was in Ohio State Home 23, the cold air was always a reminder of how much she had to fend for herself. The only gifts she and other StaHo kids ever got were scratchy sweaters that felt like wearing dishcloths, and gifts from each other, hand-made, hand-spoken.

Then, she was kicking AWOL, and it was a miracle she didn't die from the unforgiving frigid chill of Ohio’s winters. Frostbite never did anything more than chip away at her fingernails, but bordering on hypothermic every day had done irreparable damage to her nervous system.

She got sick easier, she got sick harder. Forget staying warm and cozy inside a cabin with the fire burning bright and flickering across the wood—Risa stayed inside because she didn't want to catch a winter cold and have it turn much worse.

When she and Connor had their six months of isolation in Marseille, she evaded the cold and basked in the 54 degree winter days. They both found out very quickly that that lifestyle hadn't been sustainable, because they had been missing one very important person.

“You good, Risa?”

She blinked, tearing her attention away from the window. Hayden padded to the couch, sidling up to her on the couch, two mugs of a hot something in his hands.

“Yeah,” she said, relieving the tension in Hayden's furrowed brow. “Just thinking. I guess I'm doing a lot of that these days.”

Hayden hummed and handed her the mug. It was hot chocolate. Of course it was hot chocolate. There was even a snowman shaped marshmallow bobbing in the cocoa, the smile on its face slowly melting off.

“Thanks.”

Hayden abandoned his mug down on their coffee table to let the heat dissipate, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Cabin fever, huh?”

Risa snorted. “Tell me about it.”

“Oh, I have. You're going to get sick of my voice before you get sick of being cooped up here.”

Risa took a sip of her cocoa, and it burnt the roof of her mouth. “I’d never.” She set her mug down next to Hayden’s, leaning into his shoulder. “You’re the one thing that has made this winter actually tolerable for me.”

“Awww. I'm touched.”

Risa shook her head, looking at him. “I mean it, Hayden.”

His smirk dropped a little, turning into one that was more genuine, heartfelt. He always smiled that way when Risa caught him off-guard by being completely unfeigned. Never saccharine—that wasn't her style. But she knew that admitting to him that she wouldn't have her life any other way, her life with him in it, dug so deep into his resolve that he was never quite sure how to handle it.

So he smiled a kind of sheepish smile instead and kissed her forehead. “I can only take half the credit—Connor keeps us in line.”

Connor joined them a little while later, with his own mug of cocoa and a half-melted marshmallow, and they watched the snow pile up around their tiny cabin. Completely detached from the rest of the world—but somehow, for the first time in years, Risa didn't feel that same loneliness that always seemed to creep in when the frost did.

Connor and Hayden were not the entire reason why her outlook had started to change. It helped, though, that they had been there for the past few years. It helped that Hayden kept her distracted and Connor held her during the long nights.

It seemed like winter was something she could start looking forward to. There was snow falling all around her, and for once, it wasn't suffocating.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #61] Jinxing It

warnings: (1) mention of toe socks, chess talk, showers, a lil bit of titty luvin, lots of kisses, oral (f&m), fingering, ass play (m), whimpery koo <3, a lil cum swapping, the starluvrs are v cute!!! lots of lil clues and hints about upcoming chapters!!

a/n: there's an authors note over on a03 so I'll you spare you my nonsense! but hi, welcome back!! sorry for the wait on this one <33 if you're only just discovering bd, hello---this is part of an on-going story and includes an established relationship, to be read in context with the rest of the story, it's not a oneshot ^^. for kofi subs, there'll be a BD 62 teaser in a few hours!

wc: 13.7K

bd total wc: 560k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

Life dissolves with Jeongguk. Days merge into one. 

Like a tablet in water, or stardust into the atmosphere, time melts.

So does Jeongguk, though. He sinks into the bliss with you. Crumbles. Collapses. You’d go as far to say he turns into a supernova, like stars often do when they collapse. 

He lets himself merge into a shared identity that he’s certain isn’t normal of such a fledgling relationship.

Two weeks from the auction, and days have rolled on by without much fuss. Deals have been finalised on winning bids, and Jeongguk’s had meetings with realtors, Yoongi by his side every step of the way. Everything has happened without much thought. Life has just been accepted; new plans and opportunities integrated into the trajectory you’re on. No meteors to throw you off course nor cosmic calamities to falter your future.

Your name is on the interview list for Shinwon’s position, and Jeongguk’s due to be accepting the keys for the building tomorrow. Everything is as it should be.

It’s terrifying, in a way. 

You spent so long fearing the rug being swept from beneath your feet, but with Jeongguk’s help, carpets have been laid. They’re not budging.

And nor is he as he sits across from you, legs crossed, his chessboard keeping you apart. It’s a rarity to be on his bed not wrapped up in one another—but he’s almost as serious about chess as he is about you. Almost .

“You know what to do,” he grins, adamant that his crash course in the game was easy to follow. In reality, he’d moved a few pieces, said a few words, and promised with a smile that you’d be able to beat him. 

His belief in you is sweet, but entirely misplaced. You’ve not made a single move without his gentle encouragement, most times resulting in you giving the match up on a silver platter. 

The correct terminology evades you, and so do the rules. An app sits on your phone unused, a subscription running up a small fortune from a membership never used. It was set up back in the early days of knowing Jeongguk. You swore one day you’d be able to beat him—but life got busy, and quite frankly, chess is not your chosen way to unwind.

But spending time with Jeongguk is, and so you’ll take him in any capacity you can have him.

“Which one should I move?” You pout, utterly transfixed on the chess pieces. There’s a bewildered panic to your expression, brows furrowed over your glittery eyes, hand hovering to and fro over your side of the board.

You single in on the bishop. Look his way with hopeful, wide eyes. He shakes his head.

“Diagonals only,” he reminds you of how bishops move, at which point you realise it’s blocked in by pawns. Your hand moves to one of them, and he shrugs. “I mean… you can .”

“But should I?”

“You wanna capture the king,” he says, reaching across to dictate your movements. He secures your grip on the pawn, and gently pushes it up a single square to free the bishop’s pathway. “Shift this one up, just one space. Clear the diagonal if you want to move the bishop.”

You do as he says, putting the pawn back in its original position so that you can be the one to place it. Slowly, you repeat his instructions, pushing the pawn up the board while Jeongguk nods. 

And then he grins in such a way that you just know you're about to curse him out.

He lifts his strategically placed knight. Knocks your freshly moved pawn. Claims the tile as his own.

“Rule number one,” He smirks, lip ring flipping in the corner of his pretty little mouth. “Never trust your opponent.”

“Dude, what the fuck,” you whine, looking at him with a faux sense of hurt and a very believable pout. “You’re my boyfriend . You’re supposed to help .”

“No moaning,” he dismisses your stropping, knowing he’s lost brownie points for his deception. He also knows he’ll earn your favour back soon enough, so whatever. “Now, what's your next move, baby? Go on.”

You study the board, and assess how different the opposing sides look. 

This time, he’s going easy on you. Kind of. You’ve almost exclusively been guided by him for the last half an hour, over a string of short games, all of which have ended with your very quick and immediate defeat. 

Jeongguk is too competitive for his own good. Jimin never wants to play against him, ‘cause he knows he’ll lose, too.

This is an indulgence for Jeongguk. He ought not to waste the opportunity—or worse yet, convince you never to play against him again.

He likes the idea of chess being an heirloom; the kind of skill he’ll teach his kids in the future. It’s integral to the very depths of his brain—how he works, and how his logical mind can jump and switch sometimes at the flick of a button—yet he rarely shares it with anyone else.

It’s only apt that you’d get an all-access pass.

Hovering over your now-free bishop, you narrow your eyes as you glance towards him. 

He nods. 

And so you move a pawn instead.

“I don’t trust you,” you tell him, because he told you not to. In a way, you are trusting him—just trusting that he’s a bullshitter. 

What you don’t realise is that you’ve just moved the very pawn that’s been protecting your King, and preventing Jeongguk from getting an easy win.

“B,” he sighs, looking helplessly at the move you just made. 

He couldn’t love you any more if he tried, but— fuck —he’ll never understand your brain.

“What?!”

He picks up his queen. Places it diagonally across from your exposed King. There’s nowhere for your King to go, other than in the direct line of his queen. He’s gone and fuckin’ done it again.

Check. 

Mate .

Groaning, you realise what's happening and flop down onto your back. Your brain is fried. There's no way Jeongguk actually enjoys this. 

"Not again," you whine, pretending to sob a little as you look up at Jeongguk's ceiling. It's without birds these days, but there are a few rogue strips of tape that remind you of your history within these four walls.

"B," Jeongguk laughs, clambering around the board to flop down with you. His arm rests over your tummy as his face aligns with yours. Might not have any birds above you, but the way you melt into his touch is just as deadly as it was the first time. You'll scorch a hole through his sheets with even the most innocent of encounters. His lips are a little pouty, smirk prevailing as he teases, "What did I tell you, huh? Protect your king."

"I tried!" You insist, your over-dramatic, distressed expression far too cute for him to care about playing anymore. He enjoys chess, but he enjoys you more.

"You left him wide open for me to take!"

"You could have gone easy on me!"

"I was!" He defends with a laugh, adamant that he could have taken you out in, like, two moves if he really wanted. "I swear you didn't listen to a single thing I told you—"

"I did! Listening to you is how you got that stupid pawn in the first place," you huff, putting your hand against the bottom of his throat to stop him from getting any closer. He doesn't deserve niceties in times like this.

He'd argue that the feeling of your sharp nails against his throat is incredibly nice.

He ignores your moaning. "I'll make you a deal."

"Go on."

"Strip chess."

"Pervert."

"For every move you make, I'll take an item of clothing off," he suggests with a glint in those starry eyes of his, ignoring your remark.

You assess the situation. Mentally make a checklist of his clothes. Sweats, a shirt, a (toe)sock on either foot, and underwear — that's only five moves, but then again, Jeongguk normally has your king trapped by that point.

"I think you're just trying to get me naked."

"I'm always trying to get you naked, B," he shrugs into his sheets, before tearing himself away and getting back into position on the opposite side of the board. "So are you gonna make it a challenge or not?"

"What happens if I take out one of your pieces?"

"If you do that," he hums, as if he's contemplating it. "I'll let you do that goddamn paper plane you wanna try out so bad."

Instantly, you sit up, like a puppy with a treat being teased in front of its snout. Your eyes are wide, smile incredulous. 

It's been a while since Jeongguk made those paper planes in your bedroom. Only one has ever been done, and quite frankly, you think it might have been the catalyst to your friendship's demise, because how you could ever go back to 'just friends' afterwards was beyond you. 

It's not like you didn't try to remain totally neutral about cock warming with him, but the way your heart swells whenever you do it now just goes to show how your bodies were made for one another. Like a turning of tides, or the cyclical rising and falling of the sun to make way for the moon, it's just as nature intended. He was made for you, and you him.

With a glint in your eye, you lean over to the chess board and swipe up one of his pawns at random. With a gasp, and a smile twitching at your lips, you exclaim, "Oh look! I won!"

"B," he laughs, but your expression remains entirely serious despite the light nature of it all.

"Lemme fuck your ass," You grin now, pleading ever so softly. "A deal is a deal."

"You didn't win."

"Says who?"

"Anyone who has ever played chess?"

"I've played, and I think I won. C'mon," you grin, positioning yourself on his lap. The chess piece is still in your hands as you lean down to nudge your nose up against his. "Face down, ass up for me, baby."

"You're in my way," he says.

"You could throw me across the room if you wanted to. I'm not stopping you."

"And I'm not throwing you across the room."

"Please," you pathetically beg.

"You really it want it, don't you?" He grins against your lips. "Huh?"

"Just wanna make you feel good."

"You always make me feel good," Jeongguk whispers, quietly deflecting the real reason why he hasn't let you do it yet. 

Truth be told, Jeongguk is a little scared. 

While yes, he's always been curious about pegging, he's never taken it that far before. Has never had the tools, shall we say, to explore by himself, and none of his exes or flings ever seemed too interested in it.

He wants it. Wants it with you. Just doesn't know how he'll react. Doesn't know what his body will do. Worries that things will take a turn for the worse and that you'll be so repulsed by him that you'll never want to have sex with him again, or that maybe he'll like it too much and that it'll be all he ever wants and it'd ruin just how good things are at the moment. 

His thoughts distract him as your lips press feathery kisses against the thick column of his neck. Something about you, and how delicate you can be, just makes him melt into your touch. His hands come to clutch your hair, a pretty little smile forming on his lips. 

"You don't have to do this," he quietly says, nails lightly scratching at your scalp. Your lips graze against his skin, before he gently pulls you back by the root of your hair. The sensation makes you want him even more than you already do. There's a love-drunk look of lust to your darling eyes, all glittery like they so often are as you look at him. 

Reaching to cup his jaw, you marvel at how a man who looks like him can be as tender as he is. The world would give him permission to break hearts, if he wanted it, but he doesn't. All he seems to want is to adore, and be adored in return—and how lucky you are to be on the receiving end of it.

A slight guilt settles in your stomach. You know he'd give you the world if you asked for it, but he isn't giving you this. 

"I'm only teasing," you tell him, which isn't strictly true. You do wanna do it, but your incessant begging is what you're joking about. It's not like you'll die if you can't fuck his ass (maybe). "I'll respectfully stay out of your ass unless requested otherwise."

He shakes his head. Laughs. Kisses you, 'cause he just can't help himself, then pulls you down into the sheets with him. "I give it a day until you're asking again."

Secretly, he wants you to ask again. It doesn't feel like pressure. Feels like validation; as if you want this even more than he does.

The thing is, you can't say no to a challenge. "Wanna bet?"

No. 

But he can't resist either. "You're on."

Yoongi stands with his shoulders pressed to glass front door, keys looped on his fingers. The streets in this area are always quiet until the evening, minor hustle and bustle from delivery drivers dropping off stock to businesses down the alley disturbing the peace. 

A small hotteok stall sits lopsided, supported by the building's exterior wall, red tarpaulin covering it from the weather and any inquisitive eyes. An elderly man runs it during the weekends, but for the rest of the week, it sits derelict. It's an eyesore, to say the least. Not the kind of thing that screams 'hot new restaurant' to anyone walking by.

It's as Yoongi's contemplating how to solve this problem, figuring the stallhand probably had an agreement with the previous owners, when Jeongguk comes into his line of vision. He tweaks a brow in Jeongguk's direction, almost as if to ask: what time do you call this?

Jeongguk's right on time. It's not a minute past twelve, which is exactly the time Yoongi told him to arrive. 

Sale finalised, paperwork complete, Yoongi got given the keys this morning. It's a done deal. The building is his, and in turn, the restaurant is Jeongguk’s. 

Despite his nonchalance, when Yoongi sees Jeongguk grin, he can't help but smile too.

"Shut up," Yoongi tells him. "We're serious businessmen. Don't get giggly with me."

"I'm not!" Jeongguk laughs, hands up in defence, until Yoongi puts his own hand out for Jeongguk to shake. Naturally, Jeongguk uses Yoongi's hand to pull him in for a hug instead. Patting his back, Jeongguk is almost fighting the urge to cry. He's waited so long for this. Worked so hard. Doesn't think any of it would be possible without Yoongi, but Yoongi would disagree.

"You better make the best fuckin' samgyeopsal this city has ever seen," Yoongi threatens with all the love in the world, breaking from the hug. Passing over the keys, he nods towards the doors. "Do us the honours."

Yoongi is fatherly in the way he never takes the glory for himself. Will be the kind of dad to build a lego castle and let his kid put the flag in place at the end of his labour. 

Jeongguk doesn't mention it, but he's noticed the way Seoyeon has been the designated driver for the past few weeks; how she didn't drink at auction, and how Yoongi's been even more attentive than he usually is. 

Could be nothing at all. Could just be a change in the weather.

But it could mean everything, and Jeongguk knows better than to intrude before being welcomed in on the news. 

Pushing the key into the lock, Jeongguk is quietly enamoured with the fact the premises has a lock and key instead of the typical keypad locks that are usually in place. The metal grates against itself as he twists the lock open, and pushes the door open. 

There's a separate side entrance for access to the upper floors. 

The floors Jeongguk intends to be the restaurant already have a connecting staircase towards the back of the room, which will make it infinitely easier for staying out of Yoongi's hair whenever he's in the workshop.

In the light of day, the furniture from the previous owners now removed, it's so much easier for Jeongguk to envisage how everything will look; where the signage will hang, where the bar will go, and, most importantly, where the disco balls will hang.

"It's really happening," he exhales, as if he hadn't realised it at any earlier stage in the process.

Yoongi doesn't berate him. Instead, he takes a deep breath, too. Nods. "It's really happening."

Though he smiles, Jeongguk wishes he had a hand to hold as tightly as his lips press together. Wishes you were here. Knows you're busy with work, making up hours to account for the fact you'll have some time off at the end of the week for your interview at the Ryu.

Why you need an interview is beyond him. He thinks they're being ridiculous. Thinks that even entertaining the idea of hiring someone else is an insult. Got so wound up about it, ranting to Jimin while he was making dinner, that he burned his sauce a couple of nights ago. Is now on a talking while cooking ban. Jimin says Jeongguk can't be trusted to multitask. Jeongguk says Jimin is a little prick.

The day is lost to making plans; sketches drawn up on Jeongguk's ipad, discussions with Yoongi about how to go about getting liscences for the premises, and back and forth over what should be done with the top two floors.

The idea of Taehyung using the fourth floor as a studio is considered, but both of them know how much he adores his current place. 

"Think he'd live there, if he could," Yoongi muses picking up a slice of napjak mandu with his chopsticks, dipping it into the tteokbokki sauce. They'd ordered from the place near his current workshop, and it makes him lament the idea of leaving it behind. 

Perhaps he can keep them both. Use the smaller space as his own little sanctuary, and the third floor here as his public-facing premises. Might be a bit of a waste, but if he can afford the rent, then why not?

"Tell you what," Yoongi hums as he swallows down his food. "If you don't add something like this to the menu, I'm kicking you out."

"I'll put it on the secret menu," Jeongguk offers, knowing that it definitely won't be what he offers to punters. He makes a mean tteokbokki, but it doesn't fit the vision of what he wants for this place. "Well, what about Jimin? He could start up his own interior place, if he wants. He's got the money for it, and I know the office he's in at the moment has been stifling him. Lost out on, like, three big commissions in the last quarter because the boss went with some other prick's ideas. Jimin's wasted there."

Yoongi hums in agreement as he swallows down his food. "We could always get him to help out with the design of this place. I reckon he knows all the tricks for good energy."

Nodding, Jeongguk laughs. Picks up another rice cake and chows down on it as he adds, "Should have seen him when we moved into our current place. Man had a compass out to align a sofa with the right energy."

"Sounds about right," Yoongi grins, resting his chopsticks back down against the edge of the bowl. "Well, what about your missus, then? Would she want gallery space? Somewhere for curation?"

Jeongguk chokes on his rice cake, and it's not because of the spice. 

"She's not my missus—" he corrects, but then decides he doesn't want to "—at least, not yet. And she's got a big interview with The Ryu this week. I'm not sure opening her own gallery is on her agenda, but I can put the feelers out—and like… I don't know. Wouldn't it be a bit much? We spend so much time together, already. She'd get sick of me if I was working two floors below."

"Would you get sick of her?"

"Don't be stupid. No."

"Exactly," Yoongi says as if it's obvious—which, in all fairness, he thinks it is. "The pair of you are in a perpetual honeymoon phase."

Jeongguk shakes his head, as if he isn't beaming. "Shut up. Just got a good thing going—and hey, you're hardly one to talk. How's Seoyeon?"

"Good, yeah," Yoongi nods, but doesn't divulge any further. As much as Jeongguk is dying to ask, he holds back. "She wants you all round for dinner soon, so expect an invite in the group chat."

"For any reason?" Jeongguk baits Yoongi, cause he just can't help himself.

Unlucky for him, Yoongi is as stoic as can be. "You know Seo. She loves any excuse for a dinner party. Has started making her own pasta and I think she wants tasters."

"B makes a mean pasta," Jeongguk says, because his thoughts so often wind back to you, and he just can't help himself. "I'm sure she'll be buzzing to try Seoyeons."

A sense of pride washes over Yoongi's features. "Gah, when did you grow up, Jeongguk? Practically married, aren't you?"

Dismissive in how he shakes his head, Jeongguk can't help but let a bashful smile grow on his face. The soft lights overhead glimmer down him, putting those stars Jeongguk adores so much right back in his eyes. He'll never get rid of you. Will eternally carry the evidence of how utterly smitten he is.

Should you ever leave him, Jeongguk thinks he'd simply die of a broken heart. Wouldn't know how to walk if it weren't in the direction of you. Would stumble and fall until he inevitably wound up back at your door like a wounded puppy.

So perahps Yoongi is right. Maybe it would make sense to offer you the space—but you've got your own agenda. Your own dreams. Jeongguk can't just entrap you in his.

The thing is, once your shift is up, and you're heading to the restaurant premises to see Jeongguk, you can't help but feel like this is a dream come true for you. 

His ambition and drive have rubbed off on you; encouraged you up a career path you once thought was overgrown with thorns and rubble. Has shown you that all you need is a little bit of elbow grease and a pair of secateurs to go after what you want. 

It's dark by the time you arrive. Lights from the other establishments flood the streets, but the blinds are closed on the restaurant for a little privacy. A handwritten 'under new management' sign is taped to the front door in Jeongguk's signature penstroke. A little smiley face accents it; a show of how he feels, you presume. 

Pulling your phone from your back pocket, you dial through to him, 'cause you've no idea how to get in, nor if he's even actually there. The building is just on the way home from the art cafe, and you'd left Jeongguk's place that morning to a very smiley boyfriend instead of his usual 'don't go' pout, so you figure he's spent all day busy with exciting plans.

"Sorry, not interested," Jeongguk's voice purrs through the speaker, as if you're some kind of cold-calling saleswoman with nothing half-decent to offer him. 

"What if I told you I'm outside the restaurant and that I'm naked under my clothes?"

"Aren't we all naked under our clothes?"

"Just open the door," you grin down the phone as he comes into view through the glass doors. 

He's got the kind of look on his face that you'd expect: pouty lips with heavy-lidded eyes. Softening ever so slightly when he notices the bunch of wildflowers poking out from the tote bag you've got hooked over your shoulder, his eyes are incapable of ever hiding his true feelings. 

Mild confusion ( did someone get you flowers?) dismissed with easy understanding—they're from the stall he always buys you flowers from, so he knows you got them yourself.

It's very conflicting to adore you and to also want to fuck you into next Tuesday, but it garners you a gaze nobody else is ever lucky enough to receive from him. You cherish it. Think about it near-constantly whenever he's not by your side.

"You're a terrible saleswoman," he scolds so softly it feels like praise.

"And yet here you are, answering the door for me," you shrug with a knowing smile, sure that'd he take whatever you sold him. Would buy sand, water, air from you. Would let you swindle him. 

"And yet here I am."

Hanging up, you mouth 'open it' through the door, and he does as he's told—kind of.

Blocking the now half-open door, he childishly asks, "What's the password?"

"I love you?"

"Ew. Gross. Get a room. No."

"Fuck you.”

"Not the password either, but I'm more than willing."

"Ew. Gross," you imitate him, gagging a little for an extra immaturity. "Hmm… Byeol is the best?"

"Ddaeng."

"Jimin sucks?"

"Ddaeng… but I approve. Good guess."

"Gimme a hint."

"It's the name of the restaurant."

The confidence that comes with the restaurant being his now is nothing short of a miracle. He's so certain of everything these days, in a way he never was before—but why shouldn't he? He got the girl. Got the dream. There's nothing he can't do. Statistically, he's two for two. A winner by all counts. A gold medalist in his very own Olympics.

"You've never told me what you want to name it!" You protest with a whine, thinking he's being entirely unfair.

It's not like you haven't asked a million times over. He's just been keeping it underwraps. Was scared that speaking it into existence would jinx it. Would refuse with a coy grin, and assurance that he'd reveal it soon enough.

Truth be told, Jeongguk's gone back and forth over names. It's probably changed ten times since he's known you, but then you said something at the fundraising auction, and everything sort of clicked into place. 

A name was coined and it wouldn't stop embossing itself into Jeongguk's dreams; the branding, the signage, everything. A new vision of what he wanted spawned like lava onto a mountainside. You sparked a volcano he didn't even realise existed, and it's solidified into molten rock. 

"I'll cut you a deal," you offer, knowing that you'll never get it and he'll never ease. Shrugging your shoulder to gesture towards the bag, you begin your enticement. "I've got cold beer and hot burgers from that place you like down the road. They're all yours in you let me in—if not, I'm going home and Danbi will—"

"Say no more," Jeongguk pushes the door open and grabs your hand, pulling you into the vacant restaurant with him. The door clicks close behind you, and Jeongguk spins you around so that you're stood infront of him, facing the large room. Arms wrapping around your waist, Jeongguk rests his chin on your shoulder, gently pressing a kiss to your neck. "Welcome in."

It's a lot to take in all at once. The room stands empty, save for the camping chairs and table Yoongi and Jeongguk had coversed around earlier, Jeongguk's ipad resting on the table with a low battery warning on the dimly lit screen. There's paperwork scattered on the surface—old utilities letters that they were using to sort out the new bills—and a bag of trash tied up on the floor from their lunch.

"I don't smell burgers," Jeongguk mumbles against your neck.

"I was lying."

"You've no shame."

Turning your head, you let him raise his nose to yours, a feathery kiss greeting your lips. 

Whenever your doe-eyed boy greets you like this, you always feel a bit like snow white; as if a dozen tiny creatures will flock to you and bestow their love upon you.

It'd be fruitless, mind you, for none of them could even come close to how deeply Jeongguk adores you. He'd sit in the corner, jealous and bratty as they fawned over you. Would hate not being the object of your affection. Would strop until your focus was back on him.

"I'll order some," you promise, but Jeongguk shakes his head. 

"Won't be here much longer. We can pick some up on the way home."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, baby," he tenderly whispers, punctuating himself with a slightly firmer kiss, before pulling away from you. Walking into the middle of the room, he holds out his arms. Grins. "Welcome."

"It's a pleasure," you grin, freely stepping into the space now, looking around with awestruck eyes knowing that this is his . "Holy shit, Gguk."

"Yeah," he agrees with your sentiment. "Mad, innit?"

"Just a little."

When you think back to the Jeongguk you first met—the one who spent hours upon hours studying for his exams, all the while working at the bar of an admittedly shitty club—you can't help but feel overwhelmed with pride. He worked himself to the bone for his dreams. 

The space is large enough for Jeongguk to go wild with it. There's no end to his possibilities. He's got an arsenal of weapons in his back pocket in the form of his friends—Yoongi can fit the place out, Jimin can help with the design work, Taehyung can make a central art piece, and Namjoon can get it featured in the paper. Of course, he won't take advantage of his access to them, but knowing how willing his friends always are to help out, it's kind of like a no-brainer. He's got all the tools needed for success.

"And right here," he points up, standing in the middle of a square marked out with tape on the floor. It's large and in the centre of the room—the intended space for a central bar and banchan preparation spot, flipping the conventions of traditional barbecue places on their heads. Wants the food to quite literally be at the heart of the restaurant. "Is where the disco balls will be."

For a second, you think you miss-hear him, but the way his smiles grows when confronted with your confusion only proves you heard perfectly fine.

Sitting on one of the camping chairs Yoongi and Jeongguk had set up earlier, you've been watching him talk you through his vision for the place. It sounds incredible—just like him, but in restaurant version. 

"Is that not a health and safety hazard?" You giggle, desperate to get up and stand with him, but feeling the need to maintain distance. He's having his moment. He doesn't need a shared stage—and yet here he is, announcing that the very embodiment of you will be centre stage for the foreseeable. 

Jeongguk shrugs. "Haven't thought that far ahead. There's gonna be disco balls here whether they like it or not, though."

Realistically, if the health and safety inspectors tell him no disco balls, there'll be no disco balls—but he won't be happy about it. Will be pouty. You both know he's just being facetious, and that he'll comply with whatever is asked of him. 

"It's my restaurant, baby," he reminds you, holding out his hands, cause he wants you closer. Naturally, you do ass requested, and join him in his square. His arm slips around your waist, a kiss firmly being pressed to your forehead before your chin leans on his chest. Looking up at him, it's a wonder that you're able to have conversations that last more than a single back and forth. A miracle, even. "I can do what I want."

There's something so incredibly sexy about this cocksure arrogance. He's not the same guy you met back in the confines of Dionysus, and while you adored him back then, you adore him even more now.

"You're sexy when you talk business," you hum, as his hand dip a little further south to squeeze your ass. "Home?"

He nods, a pretty smile hanging off his lips. "Mine or yours?"

"Yours is closer," you tell him, pulling away, linking your fingers with his as you do so, dragging him with you. Hooking your bag up over your shoulder, you're reminded of the flowers. "Oh—these are for you, by the way."

Passing them over, you're not surprised by his confusion.

"For me?"

The bunch of wildflowers looked pretty big in your hands, but remarkably small in his. You have to make a considered effort to not groan. 

"Mhmm," you nod with a sweet smile. "A congratulations."

Jeongguk's head pushes back a little into his neck, shoulders broadening as his smile forms. He quickly tilts his head to the side and then back again in the way he often does whenever his brain is processing something new. 

"Never had flowers before."

"Nice, isn't it?" You grin, knowing that nothing beats fresh flowers when it comes to small pockets of expressed admiration. 

With a bashful nod, Jeongguk feels like he should feel emasculated, but can't quite work out the way he actually does feel. All he knows is that he likes it. And that he wants to get home. And that he wants you in his bed. Naked, preferably. 

His thoughts dart back and forth to the last time you were in his room. Gets him hot. Blushing. 

Thankfully, you don't seem to notice—or if you do, you don't mention it. Why would you? It's cute. 

"What time is your interview tomorrow?" Jeongguk asks as he makes sure the door is locked behind you both. 

"One in the afternoon," you reply with a certain nonchalance, as if you're unphased, which Jeongguk knows is absolute bullshit. "Hobes said he'll work my shift if I buy him a month's supply of Sprite, so I've got, like, 48 cans arriving tomorrow."

He would have done it for free, but he's a tough bargainer and you're just an easy sell when it comes to making the people you care about happy.

"His blood will turn into sprite," Jeongguk laughs, linking his hand with yours once more as you head down the road to the nearest subway entrance. "How are you feeling about it? We can practise interview questions later, if you like."

Shaking your head, you smile. "It'll just make me nervous, and at the moment, I'm pretty calm about things. Thank you, though."

"Well, if you change your mind," Jeongguk reinforces the offer, before you redirect the conversation and get him babbling about the restaurant—projected timelines, contractors, suppliers. There's so much to do, and yet it doesn't feel overwhelming in the slightest. Not yet, at least.

With a pit stop at the burger place as promised, the journey home is effortless. Intrinsic by this point. 

Shoes off by the door, Jimin is out for a company dinner, so it's just the pair of you.

"Has he spoken with you about Nabi, yet?" You ask as you grab some condiments from the kitchen, while Jeongguk fills a vase with water.

"God, no," Jeongguk laughs. "He used to tease me all the time about you, but now he can't even look me in the eyes 'cause he's worried I'll ask about it. Idiot."

"He used to tease you? About me?" You hum, a little smug at this little snippet of information. 

"You know what he's like," Jeongguk reminds you, 'cause it's not like you've ever been spared from Jimin's teasing. "Doesn't know how to not be irritating. Character flaw. Think he was born that way."

Despite his annoying tendencies, Jimin is adored by pretty much everyone he meets. Jeongguk doesn't say such things to be mean, but rather because he views him like a sibling. 

"If anyone knows how to handle him, it's Nabi," you muse, thinking back to Pohang. "He'd have driven me insane organising the Jilympics."

"Don't call it that," Jeongguk smiles at how ridiculous his best friend is. Delicately arranging the flowers, Jeongguk's sense of perfectionism comes out once more. "He's a little narcissist. He'll sense his ego being inflated from miles away, and then his head won't be able to fit through doors." Tweaking a yellow flower to move it more centrally, Jeongguk shakes his head. "And to think the first time you were in this apartment—"

"Shut up," you groan, not wanting to be reminded of it. "Everybody makes mistakes."

"Alright, Hannah Montana," Jeongguk teases you. "It's just kinda wild, isn't it? How everything has just worked itself out?"

"Don't," you say with a glint in your eye. "You'll jinx it."

Perhaps it's foolish—naive, even—but he doesn't think it's possible. Thinks that this is all set in stone. That your names have been etched on a cliffside somewhere, and that's where you'll remain forever more. 

He forgets that cliffs erode. That the weather is unpredictable, and life even more so. 

He's always been cautious. Reluctant of counting eggs.

But he’s hungry. Ravenous. The first at the dinner table, and the last to leave. Bites off more than he can chew. Chokes and splutters in the wake of it all, every single damn time.

It’s a flaw he’ll admit to having, but why can’t vices be virtues? Why can’t he be optimistic? Why shouldn’t he hope for the best? He spent so long living in a perpetual state of fear, and it never did him any good. Wasn’t until he started opening himself to the idea of things working out okay that they actually started heading in that direction.

“I’ll do no such thing,” he assures you, reaching for a pan to start with his second course. Again, he’s hungry in all aspects of the word. Hasn’t even had his burgers yet, but he’s a growing boy, or so he’d have you believe. Better to just get it cooked first, and save him the hassle of getting up again later. “You want some?”

He nods towards the empty saucepan, but doesn’t need to explain what he’s making. You know it’ll be instant bibimyeon.

“A little,” you nod, knowing that this relationship is gonna be terrible for your waistline. Opening up his fridge, you pull a can of soda from the fridge. Jeongguk doesn’t really ever buy soda, unlike you and your minor peach soda addiction, but take-out places always chuck a complimentary can of something in with your orders, so he’s got quite a stockpile now.

“You want a beer or something instead?” He asks, as he begins to prepare the instant noodles in the most embellished way he possibly can. Spices, sauces, you name it, he’s always adding something—and it’s always delicious. 

Cracking the can open, you set it down and swipe the camera of your phone up to snap a picture of him; to document him in his element. “Nah, it’s okay. Want a clear head for tomorrow.”

Jeongguk smiles, hearing the synthetic shutter of your phone clicking. “Obsessed.”

“So?” You grin, immediately swiping across to open up Instagram and preserve the moment on your story. “You love it.”

Though he doesn’t reply, he does look in your direction with a smile that would only confirm your words.

Together, you fall into a casual rhythm, you perched up on a barstool while he cooks. Conversation darts from A to B, Y to Z. There’s no topic of conversation too obscure nor taboo for you to realm into the depths of, but there’s also something comforting about how you can just natter about the weather, how he should get his hair cut, what’s on at the cinema. 

By the time he’s eaten and cleaned up the kitchen, you’re already in the shower. It’ll be an early night. You’ve both been working today, and both have important things to get done the next day. 

There’s no objection from you as he taps on the door and asks to come in. You hadn’t locked it deliberately. Jimin’s out, and even if he’d have come home, he’d have heard the shower going—or Jeongguk would have told him. There’s no real worry there.

“Been looking forward to this all day,” Jeongguk admits as he grabs his shirt by the nape of his neck, pulling it over his head in that boyish way he so often does. Neither of you really care about being naked—it’s a daily occurrence at this point—but seeing him get undressed makes your heart feel all jelly-like and void of structure. The chambers melt, and so do you. 

It’s not just attraction, but affection. Acknowledgement that he doesn’t mind being vulnerable with you. That the things humans do to renew themselves — eat, shower, sleep — are things he wants to do with you. He doesn’t want to be full if you’re hungry, sleep while you’re starved of rest, nor wash away the traces of you. Renewal without you just doesn’t make sense to him. 

“Me too,” you quietly say as he joins you. The water pitter-patters down on you both, his hair wetting before laying flat against his forehead. When his deft hands push it away, it always falls back. 

Instinctively, your arms wrap around his waist, his around your shoulders, the embrace akin to coming home. 

“We should both just quit our jobs and do this forever,” Jeongguk muses, almost sleepy in how he mumbles his words against the top of your head. 

“Someone’s gotta pay the water bill,” you smile against his bare chest.

“That’s why I live with Jimin,” Jeongguk replies, tone cheeky and warm. 

The smile on your face sweetly settles into something a little more neutral as you outwardly consider your own living situation. “Lease is up soon, yanno. Mine and Dans.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, wet hair tangling over itself against his skin. He holds you just as tightly. “Haven’t started looking for new places, yet.”

“I’ve still got a few months left on mine,” Jeongguk says, pulling back to reposition the shower head. Just wants to hear you a little more clearly. “My bed is basically yours anyways.”

It doesn’t take a genius to work out what he’s insinuating—but it also doesn’t take a genius to know that it wouldn’t be the right thing for you both, yet. 

Your eyes are soft as you shake your head. “I’ve a whole apartment's worth of stuff, Gguk. I can’t just move into your room. Need my own space.”

He frowns, reaching for the shampoo. “You can. And I’ll even move my statues.”

“You mean your action figures?”

“Oh my god,” he groans, and then you’re giggling, and any negative thoughts Jeongguk could have about you saying ‘no’ dissolve into nothingness, like water running down the drain. He passes you over the shampoo once he’s gotten himself some, and adds, “People pay good money for a collection like mine.”

“You mean you spent a fuck ton of money on them?”

“We’ve all got our weaknesses,” he protests. “You’ve got so many clothes. I don’t think I’ve ever been into your room when there hasn’t been an avalanche of clothes on the chair, wardrobe and dressers bursting at seams—”

“Exactly,” You laugh. “Now imagine all of that in your room.”

He takes a second. Visualises it as he lathers up the foamy shampoo in his hair and almost hisses. “Yeah. You’re right. I take it back. Get your own place.”

Rolling your eyes, you flick a little water in his direction, as if it makes a difference. 

He grins, teeth on show, lip ring doing the thing that just makes you melt. 

“See,” you grin right back. “I’m always right.”

The rest of your shower is littered with dumb conversations and stolen kisses between shampoo rinses. In fact, it’s how the rest of the evening continues. Some dumb action film plays on the tv, and then Jeongguk finds a dumb youtube quiz, and you giggle into the early hours over some other dumb shit. Dumb, dumb, dumb and oh so totally in love. 

The apartment issue lingers in the back of Jeongguk’s mind, though, and questions dance on the tip of his tongue. He tries to brush them away, but the mint of his toothpaste isn’t enough to erase them. They taste sour, and he knows the only way to rid the sensation is to speak them into existence.

Gone midnight, the city is still alive. His curtains are open, because you’ve started to get used to the way he likes to sleep, and find it far easier to wake up early when the sun is giving you a warm welcome to the day. Funny, how things change. How willing he was to change his habits for you, and how seamlessly yours have changed to fit him. You’re better for knowing one another, or so it feels. 

The light pollution gives his bedroom a soft glow, and with every change of advertisement on the billboards across the street, the hue changes. Like his own personal mood lamp, it’s become a staple of his home. It’s blue, now, and so is he when he considers the fact that you haven’t yet reached the stage of sharing a home.

Your arm is looped over his waist, ‘cause he’d decided that the role of the little spoon would be going to him. Fingers interlocked with yours, he has no interest in ever letting go. 

“B?”

“Mhmm?”

“Is Dan definitely moving in with Tae?”

“Think so.”

Jeongguk doesn’t immediately reply, but you leave space open for him. A question like that didn’t come out of the blue. It’s something he’s been ruminating on, no doubt.

When he finally does speak, the weight of his soft, if not somewhat pouty, words crush down on your chest in a way that you can’t quite explain. Hell, in a way you don’t want to explain, because it would mean admitting that a man has such power over you (even if said man is Jeon Jeongguk).

“They’ve always been one step ahead of us,” he laments.

And then he leaves silence for you. Knows that you always have a response of some kind that will settle his woes. Feels guilty that you’re always cleaning up the messes of his loose lips, but would be a liar if he said he didn’t crave the sweet nothings you soothe him with.

“They’re on an entirely different path, baby,” you gently press a kiss into his shoulder. He’s so warm and powder-fresh from his shower that you can’t help but want to cling to him like a koala bear. Most importantly, though, you don’t want him to move away. Space to talk is fine, but physical space? God, no. “There's no use comparing.”

But Jeongguk is a glutton for punishment. Will continue making himself feel small for the sake of his perceived flaws.

“Loved you before Taehyung even knew who Danbi was,” Jeongguk pouts, ‘cause he’s in his head again, going round in circles when he really needn’t be. You know he does this, though. It doesn’t surprise nor concern you. If anything, it reassures you, because his willingness to share these thoughts just signposts how far you’ve both come. He used to stew and sour over things like this. Now, he shares his burdens “But they’re doing all these big milestones first. They were a couple, went on vacation, and now moving in together. All before us.”

“It’s not a competition,” you sweetly laugh. “Their relationship couldn’t be more different to ours. Plus I hardly consider a weekend in Jeju a big vacation—we can literally do that this weekend, if you want.”

You’re not sure why you’ve never been away together. Busan is always lovely, but it’s a short drive, and is somewhere Jeongguk still considers to be home. It’s not a holiday. Perhaps you should rectify that. It's better spoken about during the daylight hours, but always a little nicer to dream at night. Make silly, fantastical plans that you could always turn into reality, if you really wanted. 

“Gguk,” you softly continue. “As much as I love them both, we’re literally so different from them. Our relationship was never gonna be like theirs.”

“You think?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, lips brushing against the bare skin of his shoulder. “Well, I mean, he lets her peg him for starters—”

Jeongguk turns so quickly it’s a miracle he doesn’t fall out of bed. Even in the darkness of his room at night, the open curtains mean his shock is easy to make out. “Does he actually?!”

Giggling, you roll onto your back, thoroughly enjoying his reaction. Truth is, you’ve no idea. Just said it to be a dick. 

“Probably,” you say, admitting that you don’t know. You just knew it would cause a reaction. Ease the tension, somewhat. “He’s like, obsessed with her. Would let her do anything she wants.”

Sinking back down into the sheets with you, Jeongguk wraps his arm over your body now. Pulls you close. Presses a kiss to your neck, and says, “You lost the bet, y’know? Can’t even go 24 hours without thinking about fucking my ass, can you?”

It sounds like a complaint, but the way his lips seem unable to stop pressing wet kisses against your throat would prove otherwise. Your hand tangles in his hair, scratching his scalp in approval. 

“Cute that you think I haven’t been thinking about it all day,” you tease, biting back the small murmur of a moan that’s just begging to escape from his touch. 

You often have thoughts about him throughout the day, both pure and impure. It’s not like you mean to—it’s just that there’s something about Jeongguk that is impossible to forget. Like a class-A drug, you linger from high to high, using thoughts about him to sustain your comedown until you can see him again. 

He is your boyfriend, though. Would be weirder if you weren’t a little obsessed.

“Liar,” he scolds. “I picked your clothes up after our shower. Your underwear were dry.”

“You were inspecting my underwear? Freak,” you tease, because quite honestly the idea of him studying your underwear in the hopes of finding arousal is kinda hot, even if a little perverted. “And maybe it’s because you don’t get me excited.”

Rolling his eyes, Jeongguk ignores your insult. Instead, his hand creeps down the mound of your pussy, pausing before he sinks his fingers between your thighs. “So you’ll be dry right now, then?”

“I’ll be just like the Gobi,” you assure him with that tone of defiance he's grown to adore. “Try me.”

You don’t know why you’re offering yourself up like this, ‘cause you know it’s only gonna end up one way.

“You’re such a fuckin’ liar,” he smirks—and then is proven correct as his fingers slide between your slick folds with ease. A gasp escapes from your lips as he casually brushes past your clit, paying it no attention whatsoever. “And even if you weren’t, there’s like, five bigger deserts than the Gobi. Sounds like it’s a pretty easy drought to rectify—but fuckin’ hell, B. My pretty girl and her filthy mouth. Full of lies, isn’t it? You’re fuckin’ soaked.”

“No,” you purr, hips languidly rolling to intensify the sensation he’s facilitating. After all, he’s right. There’s nothing dry about the situation between your legs. “Never told a lie in my life.”

His teeth nip at your neck as his body presses up against your side, the thick ridge of his cock letting you know that you most certainly get him excited. 

“You’re so full of shit, B,” he quietly says, lips from a pretty little kiss against the edge of your jaw. “Told so many lies, haven’t you, hm? Like when you used to tell people we were just friends?”

The desperate sigh that escapes your mouth only fuels him on even more.

“You remember the first time I touched you like this, huh?” He husks against your ear. “Those pretty eyes of yours watching us in the mirror. You can see us now, can’t you?”

Nudging his head against yours, he encourages you to look in the direction of his mirror. You always sleep on the side of the bed closest to it, but you rarely pay it any attention these days. The pair of you are obscured—bed sheets and shadows hiding what he’s doing to you—but the eroticism is just as potent as it always was.

“Gguk,” you rasp, back arching when he strokes against your clit just right.

Restraint is something that you wish you had been gifted with, but alas—you are just a girl, and he is just the sexiest man you’ve ever had the pleasure of sharing a bed with. Of course you melt with every little thing he does.

“What is it, baby?” His index finger pushes into the seeping entrance of your cunt, just once, twice, to really get you moaning. “You like it when your boyfriend touches you?”

Something about Jeongguk referring to himself like that always gets you hot, but it’s partially because of the way he almost growls when he does it. You know it’s a turn-on for him. Know that his cock is throbbing. Know he loves calling himself yours.

Tugging on his arm, you encourage him to move on top of you. It’s late, and you should both be getting a good night's rest, but whatever. In half an hour, you’ll both be away with the fairies. If anything, this will help you fall asleep quicker.

“Thought you wanted an early night?” he husks against your lips, finishing his question with a kiss that lasts far longer than any words spoken. His firm lips part yours as your legs wrap around his hips as they grind up against yours.

“And I thought you said whoever speaks about fucking your ass next loses?” You smile against his lips, knowing that he definitely must have a twisted idea of what punishment is. “How is this losing?”

“We never set out terms,” he reminds you, unable to stop himself from kissing you between sentences. “But maybe it's not about losing. Maybe it’s about winning.”

“Okay?” You entertain his flirt, giggling between those kisses he just can’t seem to stop giving you. “So what are you winning?”

He pretends to give it thoughtful consideration. Squints his eyes and looks away as if contemplating one of life's great questions. Why are we here? What is the point of life? How do I want my girlfriend to make me cum tonight?

Jeongguk presses a kiss to your neck, nose nudging against your skin. He’s feline-like. Purry. Pathetic. Just how you like him.

“You haven’t sucked me off in a while,” he whispers, teeth nipping at your earlobe. Your hand laces in his hair, a soft moan humming from your lips. There’s a softness to the slow movements of your bodies. A comfort. A desperation. Unadulterated devotion. “So maybe that?”

You laugh at his shamelessness. Press a kiss to his temple, still scratching at his scalp. “I gave you a blowjob, like, two days ago, baby.”

“I know,” he whines like a wounded puppy, all docile and dejected. “It’s been so long I might die.”

“Hmm?” You hum in response, pushing on his waist ever so slightly until he gets the message to roll onto his back. He does as he's told, because he really is just a puppy dog beneath it all. Well-trained and desperate for a treat.

Following the movements of his body, you naturally ease into position on top of him. Legs straddled either side of his waist, you raise yourself up into a seated position, earning you a grunt of approval from Jeongguk. 

The way his hands immediately reach up to play with your chest is curious, considering he still plays himself off as an ass guy. Strong with his movements, he grips the softness of your tits, his hips gently pulsing up against you.

“These might help prolong my life expectancy,” he says. “Best stress balls known to man.”

He seems quite content like this. Eyes closed, a smile hangs off his lips like he’s in a serene state of bliss. You cock your brow, unable to fight a smile, too.��

“Did you just call my tits… balls?”

One of his eyes cracks open. “No?”

“You definitely did.”

“Didn’t.”

“Did—”

“Byeol,” he reprimands your diversion of the topic. “C’mon. Business, baby.”

“Is that all I am to you, huh?” You say, reaching for his wrist so that you can pull your hairband from it. He lets you do so and looks on with salacious curiosity as you begin to tie your hair up in a ponytail. “Just a transaction?”

“Mhmm,” he nods, his own hair tangling against his pillow as he does so. “A bird for a bird, remember?”

“Are we not past the point of the birds?”

“Well, yeah,” he says as if it’s totally obvious. “Thought we were gonna do a plane?”

Jeongguk’s reference back to the paper planes that he crafted in your bedroom makes your heart seize. You know what he means by that. Knows that it’s permission, in a way. That he wants what you want, even if he doesn’t outwardly say it.

“Are we?”

“Well we’re not gonna do anything if you keep up with the small talk,” he fondly teases you, pulling you back down so your chest is against his. One of his hands wraps itself in your ponytail and tugs ever so gently. A soft moan escapes your lips, much to his enjoyment. “I like your hair like this.”

In all honesty, he just likes being able to pull on it. Loves your hair no matter how it’s done. 

“You’ll like it even more in a few minutes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw before you embark on your journey south. 

It’s intrinsic, how you work his body. A routine so well learned it’s not even given a second thought anymore. You know how to make him tick. The way he groans when you press pretty kisses down his collarbones and the way his hips roll when you drag the pink of your tongue over his pebbled nipples.

His hand clutches in your hair, keeping you in that position, encouraging you to pay a little extra attention to his nipples for a change. It’s not often that he wants too much focus on his chest, but he’s so turned on that even the slightest touch is making him go feral. 

“Shit,” he hisses when your teeth gently press down around his nipple before you suck it ever so gently. “You’re so fuckin’ good at that.”

He’s never cared for it before. In all honestly, he actively didn’t like it when previous partners did it. There’s something about you that subverts all his desires. You’ve changed him. Altered his understanding of his body. Opened him up to so much more than he’d ever considered before.

Still, you’ve got an agenda, and unfortunately for him, it doesn’t involve his chest. He lets you move down, one hand lazily hanging by your head, the other resting over his chest. His thumb strokes over his pebbled nipple, still wet from your tongue, the pleasure of your touch sending him into a state of ecstasy.

Your body shuffles down, and you both reposition yourselves. No longer are you straddling, but rather you’re between his legs. His thighs are dappled in kisses from you, before your palms rest flat to his inner thighs, spreading him just right.

Alternating between slow kisses and languid drags of your tongue, you teeter ever so close to his thick, solid cock, but never quite touch it. Every time you get close, he whines, cock twitching.

There’s a satisfaction to be found in the way his body responds to your touch. His desperation is painful. Visceral. All he wants is you. 

And because you can’t bear to see him in pain (whether or not because he’s so turned on he might just die), you concede. Give him what he wants. 

Hands on his thighs, you let a little spit pool on your tongue before slowly dragging the tip of your tongue up his shaft.

“Fucking hell,” he curses, writhing from the contact.

You smile, and the lightness of your breath against the wet streak of your tongue makes him shiver. 

The tip of his cock is already leaky with precum, his eagerness to be inside you so pathetically obvious. You avoid it, instead opting to repeat your previous moves. Slowly, you lick up his fat length, tongue flat as can be. You want him to feel as much of you as he can. Want him whining— begging —for your pussy.

If the precum seeping from his tip is a sign of desperation, then heaven only knows what the fuckin’ mess between your legs is. Every stroke of your tongue against him only serves to make you want him just as badly as he wants you.

Your hand reaches to wrap around his shaft, gently stroking his foreskin. Your tongue flicks against the base of his tip, right where you know he’s the most sensitive. 

It’s no surprise when his grip on your ponytail tightens. 

But it is a surprise when he lets go. 

“Hm?” You chirp, looking up, just to make sure he’s all good.

He is—he just isn’t looking at you to confirm it. Instead, his upper body twists ever so slightly as he reaches for his bedside drawer. 

You know it’s got a host of indecent artifacts—his sex toys, condoms, polaroids of you that are for his eyes only—but don’t give it much thought. Figure maybe he’s after a condom to make himself last longer, until you feel him tapping at your shoulder with the side of a small plastic bottle. 

He doesn’t say anything. 

Not immediately, at least. 

What he wants is something he can’t really bring himself to ask for. Hopes that you’ll work it out for yourself. 

As you take the bottle from him, a small chirp echoes from your throat, as if you’re asking for clarification. Again, Jeongguk hopes you’ll work it out. That he won’t have to shamelessly tell you what he desperately wants, cock twitching and leaking precum on his stomach.

The way you pause as you study the bottle, trying to read the text in the dim light of Jeongguk’s room, only adds to his apprehension—until he hears a soft smile exhaling from your lips when you realise exactly what it is: lube .

Never usually required, thanks to the fact Jeongguk makes you resemble a waterfall from just a look in your direction, you know the lube isn’t for you. It’s for him. 

And given the state of conversations around sex over the past week or so, you know what he’s asking for.

After all, he’s the one who wrote that damn airplane in the first place. Told you straight up that he liked ass play way back in the days of the sticky notes (some of which remain on his wall, yet to be conquered).

His drawer only really has his things in it, though. You’ve not got any of your toys at his place. This is a preliminary. A follow-up, almost, to the night spent in the Min’s garden, doing things that probably scared a few dozen nocturnal animals.

“Yeah?” You encourage, lips pressing to his upper thigh. His body adjusts ever so slightly, as if he’s shy. Your hand wraps around his shaft, slowly rolling his foreskin up and down his length in just the right way to get his hands gripping his sheets. 

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” he rasps through the pleasure of having you touch him. “Just want you to do it.”

“Talk about what?” You tease, ‘cause there’s no way he’ll actually enjoy what he’s asking for if he keeps being this uptight about it all. Relaxation is key.

“B,” he groans, this time out of frustration—and so you know you need to be the one to take the lead.

It just doesn’t feel right to take the lead, knowing he’s a little bit tense. You’ve always been so clear and consistent with each other when it comes to consent, and while you know what he wants, you wanna hear him say it first. 

So you leave the bottle of lube next to his thigh and clamber up his body. Legs straddling his waist, you’re pleased that his hands come to stroke your thighs without a second thought. Conversely, your hands softly hold his cheeks, bringing him in for half a dozen pretty little kisses.

“Words are important. I’m not gonna be crude about it,” you tell him, ‘cause it makes a change to the way you joke around with one another. “I just love you, and I want to make you feel good.”

Jeongguks nose nudges back up against yours, as if to plead for more kisses (of which you give him, willingly).

“I love you more,” he argues into your lips, earning a giggle from you that somehow melts all of his worries away. 

“Chess is always an option,” you remind him, but he shakes his head.

“Just… Fucking hell,” he groans as if it’s some sort of laborious task he really can’t be bothered to see through, which couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s just embarrassed. It’s all rather cute. Or at least it is until he continues. “Just finger my ass.” 

He bashfully half whimpers, half laughs, and then adds a pouty, “Please.”

A smile sinks into your lips, and the way he seems almost shy makes your tummy feel all funny. He’s disastrously cute like this. 

“I’ll make you feel so good,” you promise, lips brushing against his ear.

He nods. Knows you will. Lets his hands stroke up and down your back, bringing them around to cup your boobs. Squeezes. Smiles. Can’t resist himself when he questions, “Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” You nod, pulling back to sit upright just for his viewing pleasure. His hands are still holding your tits, gently caressing. He’ll never not love the sight of this. Of you. Of the way you respond to his touch. 

“C’mere,” he grunts, pulling you back down, ‘cause he can’t let you go just yet. Your hands grip onto his bedframe as his lips eagerly latch onto one of your nipples. One of your hands drops to tangle in his smooth hair, a pretty little moan escaping your lips.

He takes it as a sign he’s doing something right. Switches up his sucking motion to flick his tongue against your hardened bud. Get you moaning all over again, the position of your legs spread over his waist, letting him know just how pleased you are to have him like this.

And while Jeongguk might have been asking you for favours, all he can think about is returning them.

Tapping on your ass, he’s a little breathless as he lets go of his latch on your nipple, and husks, “Up, baby. On my face. You before me.”

“Hm?” you languidly hum—not because you don’t know what he means, but because it goes against what he was asking for just minutes earlier.

Still, Jeongguk doesn’t care to explain his thought process (mainly because he doesn’t have one (he just likes having you in his mouth in any and all capacities)). Instead, he just continues tapping your ass until you get the message.

“You’re so impatient,” you lightly scold him while you do as he requests, but barely have time to position yourself before his arms are hooking over your legs, pulling your pussy to his mouth. “Oh fuck.”

He wastes no time suctioning his lips around your clit. He doesn’t care to be quiet about it. Eats you like it’s his last fuckin’ supper. Laps up against you. 

It’s not just his tongue, though. It’s like he wants his whole fuckin’ face in your cunt. His nose rubs up against your clit, while his tongue greedily licks your entrance. There’s no such thing as perfect, but the way he’s proportioned is as close as it gets, you think. Your hips grind, a hand tangled in his hair, the way you both move entirely primal. 

Hands squeezing at your ass, he encourages your movements. Wants you all over his face. Loves nothing more than being coated in you. 

His tongue begins to focus now, though. He positions himself just right. Flicks against your clit at such a speed it’s hard to comprehend—and then he’s moaning. Vibrating against you. Delivering a sensation that could never be replicated.

“I’m close,” you rasp. Whine. Moan. “Don’t wanna cum. Not yet.”

And while he wants you to, Jeongguk knows why. Knows you wanna fuck him. Knows you wanna cum around his cock instead of on his face. Multiple orgasms have never been an issue, but it is late. You do need a somewhat early night. 

He nods, easing up his tongue, slowly sucking on your clit. The movements of his head as he sucks only serve to make you feel like you might cum regardless, so you shakily (and regretfully) pull away. 

When you reposition yourself, he pulls you against his lips for the messiest, most obscene kiss possible. It’s all tongue, and little else. The taste of your cunt. The sweetness of his whines. The filth of how much he loves sinning with you. 

There's nobody else he could be like this with. Only you. Only ever you.

Straddled over his hips, you grind gently, his thick cock perfectly snug between your lips. Wet and swollen, they feel like silk against him. Jeongguk knows, given the chance, that he’d be able to cum like this. Easy.

That’s not what he wants, though, so you retrace your steps. Sink back down. Don’t fuck around this time. Instead, you take him in your mouth without hesitation. Return the favour he’s just bestowed upon you.

Head bobbing up and down his fat length, your hand wraps around the base of his cock. Pulling back, you spit against him, using your hand to spread it, gaining momentum. Loose with your grip, you focus on the tip of his sensitive cock, jerking him until he’s whining. Whimpering.

And then, you let your tongue stroke against his balls. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whines, his hips pulsing beneath you.

It’s all the approval you need for your hand to get a little tighter, and for your lips to take one of his balls in your mouth. It’s a sensation Jeongguk fuckin’ loves, if done right—and of course, you know how to do it perfectly for him. 

You take his ecstasy as a chance to move things along. Know he’s feeling good. Know he wants more. 

Pulling back, you sit on your heels. Neither of you speak, but Jeongguk does slowly nod when he sees you reaching for the bottle of lube next to his body. Trepidation hangs in the air. This territory is uncharted, and it’s been a little while since you last ventured so far south—but you’ve got a roadmap. Know the way. Even if you didn’t, you like to think intuition would guide you, regardless.

Warming it a little bit in your hands, you’re slow. Cautious. Careful, knowing that he’s probably feeling a little more vulnerable than usual.

Hands slick with the gel, you wrap a palm around his shaft. Ease him into the feeling. It’s not like it’s a new sensation, but the pair of you rarely ever use lube. You’re always wet enough. He nods. Lets his eyes close as your other hand gently massages against his balls.

A little further south, you venture. He’s not a stranger to your tongue against his taint, but your fingers are less frequent. He's not as well acquainted with the sensation, but he likes it. Legs spreading a little further, Jeongguk makes himself available for you. 

Smiling at just how cute he looks, you’re a curious mix of enamoured and outrageously turned on. Just like nobody could ever make him feel the way you do, nobody could ever make you feel the way he does. 

“You’re so hot,” you tell him, gently wanking his cock as two of your fingers stroke up and down his taint. You apply a little more pressure. Replace his bashful smile with a wanting gasp.

Slick with lube, you let your middle finger go lower. Slowly, you press against his rim. Watch him closely as his brows furrow. There’s that look of desperation once more, and the assurance that yes, he wants this. Wants you. 

You count in your head. 1, 2, 3… make sure he doesn’t stop moving his hips. If anything, he’s edging himself down. Encouraging you to apply more pressure. 

And so you do. Slowly, eyes trained on his pretty, pathetic face, you push your middle finger against his tight hole, until the muscle eases.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, the penetration of a single finger overwhelmingly pleasurable for him. His eyes flicker open, landing on yours as your finger begins to curl ever so gently. Just a little. Just enough.

Chest heaving, Jeongguk looks beautiful in a way that’s hard to put into words—and when you slowly pull out, he looks ruined in a way that’s also hard to comprehend.

His lips hang slack, chest heaving as his eyes burn into you like the heat of a thousand stars. Face dewy with sweat, hair sticks to his forehead, the storminess of his gaze quickly triggers a whirlpool within your stomach. There’s a neediness to him as he swallows back a breath, lips coming together so that he can lick them, before his pout forms that pretty little o-shape once more.

Breathless as he speaks, Jeongguk rasps, “Again.”

The corner of your lips twitch into a smirk. “Yeah, babe?”

“Yeah,” he pathetically nods, fucked out but somehow still painfully desperate for more. Of course he is, though. It’s you. No one gets him like this. No one ever will. His brows furrow together, his tongue flicking against the silver hoops in the corner of his mouth, as his eyes drop to his pathetically weeping cock. He’s so hard. So keen. So needy—and what he needs right now is you. “Please, B. More.”

You tease against his entrance, applying just enough pressure to make him gasp. It’s like a reward, to hear him like this. As if you’ve done something truly remarkable.

Your other hand wraps around the base of his cock, adding to the electricity surging through him. He reaches down. Wraps his hand around yours. Encourages you. Wants more. Needs more. And so you give him more.

Finger pushing into his tight entrance, you’re slow. Painfully so, though you aren’t causing any actual pain. Jeongguk just wants you to hit that spot. 

“Yeah?” You check in.

Breathless, nodding his head even though his eyes are closed, he says, “Yeah.”

Your finger curls. Strokes. Searches. Finds.

And Jeongguk moans in a way you don’t think you’ve ever heard before. It’s a whimper, almost. A plea. Or rather, a confession, maybe.

Your hands work in tandem, your finger stroking right against the spot that makes him whine, while your other hand strokes him in tempo. He’s stimulated in a way he isn’t used to. In a way he never really thought was possible. 

There’s a vulnerability that comes with penetration. Far easier to fuck someone than it is to get fucked.

When he looks down towards you, it's like looking through a telescope; galaxies in his big brown eyes. Wide and wanting, he'll give you all the stars in his eyes, no questions asked, no fee charged.

It’s when your head dips to press wet kisses against his taint that his whines really begin to get desperate. Has always loved your mouth. Loves it when it does things it shouldn’t. 

A girl like you shouldn’t have your nose pressed to a ballsack or her tongue mere millimetres away from an asshole, but the way you focus on delivering him pleasure would suggest otherwise. You’re made for this. Made for him. 

It’s when you whine, though, obsessed with his body's response to you, that he really begins to get twitchy. His hips pulse ever so gently, encouraging the movements of both hands.

“Yeah?” you breathlessly whisper, smirking at how a man so strong is just absolute putty in your hands. “You fucking yourself with my hands, huh?”

Jeongguk is beyond the point of pride. Has no need for dignity. Just wants to feel good.

“Yeah,” he admits between desperate breaths. “Gonna make me cum so fuckin’ hard.” 

Everything is moving in the same chaotic rhythm: his chest, his beating heart, his pulsing hips. Jeongguk’s cock is twitching, the sensation of you massaging his prostate taking him closer and closer to the point of release. He isn’t gonna last, and you don't want him to. 

Your hand grips even tighter around the base of his cock, the stimulation impossible to fight against. There’s only so much he can take.

“B,” he whines. “Oh, fuck.”

“Cum for me,” you tell him, not even caring for your lost orgasm from earlier. He can make it up to you later. You keep the pace of your finger consistent, but wank him off faster. He whimpers and he writhes, but he doesn’t ease up. “C’mon, baby. Show me how good I make you feel, yeah?”

If there’s one thing that drives him wild, it’s when you call him sweet little names. 

“Please, baby,” you beg, because you know just the right buttons to press. His hands grip his bed sheets, eyes struggling to stay open. He’s seconds away from death, or so it feels. A little death, at least. His legs begin to twitch. The onslaught of what is about to happen is unmistakable. “That’s it, baby,” you coo. “Show me how good it feels.”

“B,” he tries to speak, but can’t. All he can do it succumb to the pleasure. Whine. Mewl. Moan.

And then it’s happening; the evidence of how fucking good you are for him painting his abdomen. His cock is pathetic as it spurts ropes of thick, hot cum onto his belly. White and wet, it’s never-ending. He cums and he cums; gasps and gasps. 

It’s not until he begins to twitch, chest heaving, cock spent, that you withdraw from him. Immediately, you gently begin to trail your tongue across his hard abs, cleaning up the evidence of how much he likes having you in his ass. You're keeping his secrets. Promising you'll never tell a soul.

“Shit,” he curses, all breathless and fucked out, one arm over his chest, while his other hand reaches down to stroke the side of your head. “Fuck.”

Giggling now, you clamber up to join him, and Jeongguk cares not for the fact your cum is still on your tongue. In fact, he deliberately stokes his against yours, swapping the evidence of his pleasure between you both. Moaning into your lips, he’s spent in a way he never has been before. 

“God, I love you,” he whines into your mouth. Gets needy all over again. “You know that, huh? You know how much I love you?”

With a bashful nod, you find yourself giggling. “You know I know.”

“Good,” he nods, pulling away to face the ceiling, eyes closed, trying to get a little breath back. You snuggle into him, all rather sweetly considering what you’ve just done. “‘Cause I do. And I mean it. You’re literally, like, the love of my life.”

“Who knew all it would take was a little ass play to get your saying such soppy shit,” you tease him, pressing a kiss against his chest. “Should have done this months ago.”

He laughs now, too. “Just cause I didn’t say it back then doesn’t mean I didn’t think it.”

The pair of you descend into a comfortable warmth, giggling and joking, until you get up to wash yourself up a little. Jeongguk protests. Says he needs to return the favour—but ultimately agrees to wait until the morning. 

“Need to sleep at some point, babe,” you tell him as you both meander to the bathroom. Jeongguk makes a mental note to get a place with an en-suite when he moves out. In a pair of boxers, he watches you fondly as you wash your hands in the bathroom sink, all love drunk and bleary-eyed.

You’re in one of his shirts, and it drapes over your body in a way that it would never drape over him. He likes it better on you. In fact, he likes most things in his life better with the addition of you.  Thinks life would be impossible, if he were ever to lose you. 

“I think I’d die, yanno,” he mindlessly says, watching you plait your hair to stop it from tangling in the night. “If we ever broke up or weren’t together, I’d think I’d just die.”

You laugh, because it’s absurd. Both the concept of dying of a broken heart, and the idea that you would ever break up. 

“Don’t speak it into existence, then,” you tease. “It’s a full moon, Gguk. Can’t be manifesting things like that on a night like this.”

“I’m not,” he assures you, because if anything, he’s trying to do the opposite. Not once does he think to tell you that the full moon has nothing to do with it, or some other belittling remark about believing in the stars, like you know most guys would. Why would he though? A star is the closest thing he knows to religion, and he’s looking at it right now.

“Well, good,” you hum, turning to face him, hair now secure. “Let's just agree to not break up, and that way you won’t die.”

“Sounds good,” he sleepily smiles, tugging on your hand, guiding you back to his bedroom. 

It’s a ridiculous conversation for a ridiculous concept. 

Or at least, in the warmth of lust-drunk night, it is.

In the cold light of day, stark and sterile, everything has the potential to change. 

After all, bad decisions are your forte, are they not?

[girlokwhatever]

learn about palestine and how you can help

MY MASTERLIST

༉‧₊˚.✧˚ · .˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆.ೃ࿐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

→ PAIGE BUECKERS

↳ oneshots/mini-series:

ׂ╰┈➤ late nights (summary): you and paige can’t seem to fall asleep

ׂ╰┈➤ you belong to me (1) (2) (summary): another guy at a party is dancing with you and paige gets jealous (18+)

ׂ╰┈➤ awakening (summary): paige realizes she’s in love with you, but she’s never liked a girl before

ׂ╰┈➤ nice surprise (1) (2) (summary): paige takes an interest in you on kk’s live and asks you out on a date

ׂ╰┈➤ early morning (summary): paige craves you in the morning (18+)

ׂ╰┈➤ are you done yet? (summary): paige doesn’t like your attitude and decides she needs to do something about it (18+)

ׂ╰┈➤ focus on me (summary): paige is jealous of how close you and kk are

ׂ╰┈➤ taking care of you (summary): you come home drunk and paige takes care of you

ׂ╰┈➤ gentle loving (summary): you help paige unwind after a game night

ׂ╰┈➤ marks of my love (summary): you give paige hickeys and the team teases her about it. (18+)

ׂ╰┈➤ that should be me (summary): you get jealous watching another girl flirt with paige, even if she’s not your girlfriend

ׂ╰┈➤ on the phone (summary): during an away game, paige misses you a little too much (18+)

ׂ╰┈➤ you can take it (summary): you make paige mad and she reminds you why you shouldn’t. (18+)

ׂ╰┈➤ battle of the blondes (summary): paige, kate, and emily all like you, but who will get you?

↳ series:

ׂ╰┈➤ she loves me, she loves me not (summary): to make your toxic ex regret her choices, you let her believe you’ve moved on with paige. it starts out innocent, but what happens when it gets more complicated?

→ part one (beginning of the end)

→ part two (discover me and reality)

→ part three (back and forth)

ׂ╰┈➤ big baller (paige and nika x reader)

↳ headcannons & blurbs:

ׂ╰┈➤ paige with a sleepy gf

ׂ╰┈➤ paige with a famous gf

ׂ╰┈➤ paige with a hockey gf

ׂ╰┈➤ paige with a swifite gf

ׂ╰┈➤ paige with a short basketball player gf

ׂ╰┈➤ paige with a figure skater gf

ׂ╰┈➤ golden retriever paige with a black cat gf

ׂ╰┈➤ paige and her gf playing roblox

ׂ╰┈➤ paige and her gf arguing

ׂ╰┈➤ paige making out with her gf

༉‧₊˚.✧˚ · .˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆.ೃ࿐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

→ KATE MARTIN

↳ oneshots/mini-series:

ׂ╰┈➤ all mine (summary): kate gets jealous when another girl dances with you at the bar

ׂ╰┈➤ uh oh! (summary): you and kate can’t seem to keep away from each other, even after saying you will.

ׂ╰┈➤ my pretty lady (summary): kate does your makeup routine voiceover.

ׂ╰┈➤ battle of the blondes (summary): paige, kate, and emily all like you, but who will get you?

ׂ╰┈➤ illicit affairs (summary): kate has to be your secret.

↳ series:

ׂ╰┈➤ meet the martins (MASTERLIST)

↳ headcannons & blurbs:

ׂ╰┈➤ kate with a makeup loving gf

ׂ╰┈➤ kate martin making out with her gf

ׂ╰┈➤ kate martin and her gf arguing

ׂ╰┈➤ kate messing up her gf’s makeup (blurb)

༉‧₊˚.✧˚ · .˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆.ೃ࿐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

→ EMILY ENGSTLER (discontinued)

↳ oneshots/mini-series:

ׂ╰┈➤ late night needs (summary): it’s late a night and emily is needy for you (18+)

ׂ╰┈➤ make you feel good (summary): emily uses the strap on you for the first time (18+)

ׂ╰┈➤ end of beginning (1) (2) (summary): you and emily reunite on the washington mystics after being broken up for two years.

ׂ╰┈➤ battle of the blondes (summary): paige, kate, and emily all like you, but who will get you?

↳ series:

ׂ╰┈➤ N/A (requests always open)

↳ headcannons & blurbs:

ׂ╰┈➤ overprotective emily

ׂ╰┈➤ emily with a short gf

ׂ╰┈➤ you and emily find a stray cat (blurb)

ׂ╰┈➤ emily and her passenger princess gf on a road trip

[moonxknightx]

 ♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : SERENITY : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Hugh Jackman x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: RPF

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You finally convince Hugh into doing a spa at home day. A short oneshot filled with fluff!

YOU FINALLY CONVINCED HUGH TO HAVE A SPA DAY AT HOME. He had been reluctant at first, but your enthusiasm and promises of relaxation won him over. Now, you were both lounging in the living room, surrounded by an array of spa supplies. The smell of lavender and eucalyptus filled the air, creating a serene atmosphere.

"Okay, first things first," you said, opening a jar of a creamy, green face mask. Hugh watched you with a mix of amusement and curiosity. "We're starting with the face masks."

He leaned forward, and you began to apply the cool, smooth substance to his face. He flinched at first, then relaxed, his eyes closing as you worked. "This feels... interesting," he murmured.

"Interesting good or interesting bad?" you teased.

"Good," he conceded with a smile. "Surprisingly good."

Once both your faces were covered in the green mask, you handed Hugh a fluffy robe and guided him to sit beside you on the couch. You picked up a couple of magazines and handed him one. "Now, we just relax and let the masks do their magic."

He took the magazine, flipping through the pages with a bemused expression. "I can't remember the last time I read one of these."

"That's the point," you said, snuggling into the cushions. "It's all about unwinding and doing something different."

You both settled into a comfortable silence, the occasional rustling of pages the only sound. After a while, Hugh began to chuckle softly. "Did you know avocado is good for everything? According to this, we should be bathing in it."

You laughed, peeking over at the article he was reading. "I'll make a note for next time."

As the masks dried and tightened on your skin, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. The simple act of being together, doing something silly and lighthearted, was refreshing. You glanced at Hugh, his face comically frozen in a green cast, and couldn't help but smile.

After the allotted time, you both headed to the bathroom to wash off the masks. Hugh splashed water on his face, laughing as he tried to get every bit of the mask off. "This is more work than I thought," he joked.

Once clean and refreshed, you returned to the living room. Hugh sank back onto the couch, looking more relaxed than you had seen him in a while. "Alright, what's next on the spa agenda?"

"Foot massages," you announced, holding up a bottle of lotion. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest as you sat down at his feet.

You took your time, kneading the tension out of his feet, feeling the muscles relax under your touch. He sighed contentedly, closing his eyes. "I could get used to this," he murmured.

"That's the idea," you said with a smile. "Everyone needs a little pampering now and then."

When you finished, Hugh pulled you up onto the couch beside him. "Your turn," he said, taking the lotion. His hands were strong but gentle as he returned the favor, and you felt the last of your own stress melt away.

As the day came to a close, you both sat entwined, basking in the shared sense of tranquility. "You know," Hugh said softly, "you were right. This was fun.

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. "Told you so."

🏷️: @khxna

If you want to be added to the Hugh Jackman taglist, let me know! 💙

[xobunni0]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 ⏦ﾟ♡︎

ℳ𝓔𝓝𝓤

➵ 2/01/25 𝒾𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈 — hurt/comfort

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡.. shadow reminds you that even though he struggles to show it, his feelings for you aren’t going anywhere.

➵ 2/04/25 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃’ 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝓅𝒾𝒹 — fluff

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡.. shadow begins to realize his actions may never be enough if he doesn’t say what’s in his heart.

➵ 2/07/25 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝒾ñ𝑜 — suggestive

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡.. you help shadow unwind with a warm meal, gentle touches, and with a special request from him.

➵ 2/09/25 𝒷𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎 — fluff

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡.. shadow has always been difficult to read, making it hard to tell if he feels the same way about you. little do you know, he’s been struggling with how to ask you a question he’s never dared to ask anyone before.

➵ 2/11/25 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝓇𝑜𝒸𝓀 — fluff

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡.. one fateful night you meet shadow; by chance or by destiny you find yourself drawn to him.

➵ 2/12/25 𝒸𝒶𝓃’𝓉 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝑒𝓎𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 — smut

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡.. shadow is too shy to voice his needs, when you begin to notice the little signs; his lingering gazes, half-finished sentences, and the way his hands fidget when he’s near you.. you decide to help him out.

➵ 2/14/25 𝓂𝓎 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 — fluff/ suggestive

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡.. shadow never imagined himself in a relationship, let alone with someone as affectionate and needy as you.

can’t wait to write this little series of oneshots 🪽& thank u sm for 100 💝💝

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ⏦ﾟᢉ𐭩 - 𓊆ྀི𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𓊇ྀི

[sundrop-writes]

Sundrop's Criminal Minds Masterlist

Lessons For A Genius - Capsule Series (Temporarily Complete)

Note: This is a Capsule Series, so each fic can be read as an individual oneshot. There is no overarching story, and no specific ending.

Lesson One: Slick Silicone - Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Friends With Benefits. Smut. Despite being a genius, Reid still has a lot left to learn about life. (Mostly sex related.) And he definitely wants to learn from you. His first lesson? Well, a linguistics lesson turns into a hands-on demonstration with a very special toy. (17,200 words.)

Lesson Two: Magic Metacarpals - Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. (Pining) Friends With Benefits. Smut. After receiving his first lesson, Spencer is eager to learn more for you. So you teach him the next logical thing - how to pleasure you in return. (26,300 words.)

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes - Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Fake Dating. Hurt and Comfort. While undercover inside the Separatarian Sect, you and Spencer realize something important: you can’t live without each other. (8,200 words.)

Push and Pull - Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader - Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut, Sexual Tension. When investigating Viper, Emily doesn't fall for his tricks, and in fact - spends the night teasing him by showing more interest in you. Little did she know, she was driving you insane in the process. (2,800 words.)

The Perfect Brat - Dom!Elle Greenaway x Dom!Fem!Reader x Sub!Spencer Reid. Co-Workers with Benefits. Smut/PWP. Spencer acts up, so you and Elle put him in his place. (2,900 words.)

Loverboy - Bratty!Virgin!Spencer Reid x (Dom)Fem!Reader. Co-Workers with Benefits. Smut/PWP. You try your hardest to make Spencer's first time a good one. (3,100 words.)

Black Suit - Dom!Emily Prentiss x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. After a particularly hard case, Emily takes you home and helps you unwind by showing you exactly where you belong. (2,900 words.)

From Your Lips - Jennifer Jareau x GN!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut, Hurt and Comfort. After JJ is attacked on the Hankle farm, you take the time to check on her and distract her flustered mind. (3,000 words.)

Figure It Out - A Criminal Minds Casefic. Fem!Reader x Gen!BAU Team (Platonic). General Casefic, modelled after a Criminal Minds episode. Angst, Mystery, Hurt and Comfort. When the team takes a case in your hometown - a secret that you have been trying to hide for years comes to be known with a vengeance. (18,000 words.)

Meddle About - Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Morgan calls you Reid's 'Mommy', and you don't think much of it - but Reid can't get it out of his head. It accidentally slips out of his lips, and you like how it sounds coming from him. (6,300 words.)

Pathetic - Dom!Elle Greenaway x Switch!GN!Reader x Sub!Spencer Reid. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP. Spencer gets punished again - in a very creative way. (2,600 words.)

She Keeps Me Up - Dom!Jennifer Jareau x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP. JJ is very protective of you - and very possessive of you. When an UnSub leaves a tiny scratch on you, she feels the need to remind you exactly who you belong to. (3,100 words.)

Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Autistic!Reader Headcanons

Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss Kink Headcanons

Random Spencer Reid Headcanons

JJ Being Protective Of You (Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Autistic Reader)

The Scale of Dominance and Submissiveness in The Criminal Minds Characters (Headcanons)

How would Spencer react to you teasing him with a lollipop?

How would Spencer react to you fainting around him?

How would Spencer, Emily, and Elle react to getting proposed to?

How would Derek, Emily, and Spencer react to your daughter being clingy with them?

Note: This last fic links off to AO3. I'm probably not going to edit it and post it on Tumblr - it's going to live on AO3. So if you want to read it, you can do so at this link.

Burn The Witch - Spencer Reid x (BAU)Fem!Reader. Mutual Pining Co-Workers. Heavy Angst, Smut, Casefic. (Series - Complete.) You weren’t sure which you regretted more: acting on your feelings for Spencer, or writing them down first. But there wasn't much room for regrets when a psychopath was waving a gas can in front of your face and telling you he intended to turn you to ashes. (69,900 words.)

[cosmicalily]

"heaven is a bedroom" a minho oneshot by @cosmicalily

author's note: okay so even though this wasn't on my publish schedule, i really loved it and wanted to put it out anyways! whilst the lyrics of this song don't totally fit with the theme, i thought the whole idea of the bedroom being like a safe space was really beautiful and based it off the title! my mum and i bond over drinking rosé, eating dark chocolate and doing puzzles together late at night (often with skz code in the bg lol) and i need a man who matches this niche comfort activity of mine, and i feel like lee minho would really fw puzzles. warnings: alcohol consumption, making out

The bedroom you and Minho had built for yourselves was less of a room for sleeping, and more of a nest for the two of you to comfortably exist alongside each other within. Minimal furniture, soft, freshly washed bed linen and a huge window with long navy curtains; simple, calming and easy on the eyes. A place to unwind.

After one of your first dates, Minho had invited you over to his apartment.

“I’m not expecting you to let me hit, I promise.” he assured you. “It’s too early for that. But I’d like to spend the evening with you.”

So you’d gone back to his, hands warm in each other’s. And when he’d let you in through the door, he had opened a bottle of wine, pulled out a puzzle, and lit a single lamp in the corner of his living room. It felt intimate, in a way that wasn’t lustful or desperate. It was cosy and familiar.

And as the two of you sat beside each other on the rug, placing pieces and chatting about anything and everything, one of his three cats on your lap, you’d felt something in your stomach settle. A sense of calm that hadn’t washed over your body in this kind of way for too long.

It had always been that way with Minho. The things that would have normally sent you into a spiral were settled into mere dust. Irrelevant when you had a person that simply got you, a person who loved and knew you through and through, in ways that you hadn’t thought were possible.

There was something permanent about Minho, a feeling you were thankful for.

Now, four years later, you sat on your shared bed, glass of red wine in hand, head resting against his shoulder as you worked on the large-scale Monet puzzle laid out on a tray in front of you. It had been a while since you’d had a pocket of peace like this together; you’d both been busy with work and had spent most nights falling asleep wordlessly, bodies entwined. But this evening, there was a power outage in your apartment block. There wasn’t any WiFi to answer work emails with, so you’d put your laptops to the side and moved into your bedroom. 

Whilst the candlelight was a little difficult to work with, the two of you had a knack for puzzles, identifying dips and curves in the pieces, knowing exactly where the next would go.

“Missed you,” you mumbled into Minho’s shoulder, slotting a piece into your growing patch of ocean.

“Mm? I’ve been around,” he replied, but pressed a light kiss to your cheek anyway, knowing you didn’t mean it physically. He set his wine glass down and moved his hand to your waist, gently squeezing and running his fingers along the soft skin. “It’s nice like this. Slower. Less to worry about.”

“I never worry when I’m with you, my love.”

Minho’s face stretched into a soft smile at that, and he moved the puzzle tray to the end of the bed, pulling you into his arms and kissing your forehead. “Good. You’re stuck with me, you know that, right?”

“I’m happy to be.”

Oh, drunk kisses with Minho were some of your favourite. There was a different side to him when he was like this; although he was never rough or cold with you, he was gentler and at times, sappy. Wanting you all over him, wanting to breathe in nothing but you.

But before his tongue slipped between your lips, he pulled away suddenly, head turning to glance at the rustling sound beside you.

Soonie, rather proudly, rolled through the sections of completed puzzle, purring gently.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” you smiled in amusement, cupping Minho’s cheek with your hand and pulling his face back towards yours.

Red wine had most likely trickled out of your tilted glass and onto the white sheets, but that was the least of your worries. Minho’s fingers were in your hair, his burgundy stained lips warm against yours. Somehow, it tasted better on his tongue; sweeter, softer, more fragrant. His kisses were desperate yet measured, taking time to trace his tongue around your mouth, savouring you, downing you slowly and intentionally.

You managed to set your glass down on the wooden table beside your bed, using your now free hand to hold his cheeks. His skin was soft and smooth, a little flushed and warm under your fingertips.

And the way the two of you slotted together, your legs wrapped around his waist and his chest against yours, you knew for sure that amongst the thousands of pieces in your world,

He’d always be the perfect fit.

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx @ashtxrie @pigeonseatmayo @modesttiger - comment, dm or send an ask to be added

[madamechrissy]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ SatoSugu x Reader Oneshots ˚୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

All the oneshots/drabbles so far and WIPs <3

Long One Shots

Two for One -Your bosses, Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto want to make sure you feel appreciated, so they decide to help you unwind with their dicks -nsfw- 4.6k wc

Risky Business - Satoru Gojo is your boyfriend, and he decides to share you with his best friend Suguru - nsfw - 4.8k WC

Mini Series

Gojo can't stop thinking about Geto's Girl - Six parts of Gojo and Geto being yandere and freaky ASF (part one has links!)

Drabbles

I'll Win - request for slim reader, SatoSugu being freaks lol - nsfw

Gojo and Geto eat you out together - Gojo being yandere AGAIN, they fight over who eats you out then join forces- nsfw

Pervert Gojo - turns into pervert SatoSugu bc YES

[fresitasmoribund]

frame by frame

-`♡´- pairing: Poly!Wolfstar x Fem!Reader

-`♡´- summary: Your first time working with Sirius and Remus - of course you're going to be nervous.

-`♡´- contains: model!sirius, model!reader, photographer!remus, modern au

-`♡´- masterlist

-`♡´- word count: 1.3k

-`♡´- a.n: this was the oneshot that made me have a two-month writer’s block… this was gonna be so much longer but I literally cannot LOL

You narrowly miss a huge puddle as you speed-walk as fast as you can to the location of the photoshoot. You haven’t checked your phone, afraid of it slowing you down, but you can feel you’re late.

Holding the handle of your umbrella tighter, you mutter curses under your breath. What a great first impression, you think to yourself. My first time working with a high-profile model and photographer, and I’m late. You’re sure your agent is going to murder you.

The hotel exuded chic sophistication: polished wood surfaces gleamed under the soft glow of amber pendant lights, and an energetic buzz fills the air as the team flits between tables. Your shoes click against the floor as you slip through the entrance, heart pounding. The strap of your bag was slipping off of your shoulder for the third time since you’d stepped out of the taxi. A quick glance at your phone confirms it – late. Not disastrously, but enough to have you inwardly groan.

“Brilliant start,” you murmur, tugging your bag back into place and folding your umbrella.

Before you spiral too far into self-recrimination, a voice cuts through the muted din of clinking glasses and conversations.

“There she is!” The rich, velvety voice carries across the room, instantly turning heads. Your cheeks warm as you hurry toward him, your steps a mix of soft clicks and light bounces. He leans casually against the bar, his grin as radiant as the spotlight he so clearly deserved. “We were starting to think you’d been kidnapped by a rival agency.”

Your shoulders sag with relief, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. You hope your voice doesn’t sound as unsteady as you feel. “Wouldn’t that have been a story?”

Sirius pushes off the bar and strolls over for proper introductions. His charm is practically tangible. Just as he reaches you, another figure merges from the cluster of crew members setting up. Remus approaches with a clipboard in hand – the perfect calm counterpoint to Sirius’ vibrant energy. His smile is soft and reassuring as his eyes meet yours.

“No worries,” he says, his voice lower and smoother than Sirius’ but no less welcoming. “You’re right on time for the fun part.”

You nod, the tension in your frame slowly unwinding. “Thanks. I was worried I’d throw everything off.”

Sirius let out a laugh, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. “Our world revolves around pretty girls like you. You could’ve arrived an hour late, and we’d still be waiting.”

Remus gives him a sideways glance, his lips twitching in barely concealed amusement.

“We’ve only just finished setting up,” he clarifies, his eyes crinkling ever so slightly.

“Come on then.” Sirius throws an arm out to gesture toward a corner of the restaurant where the stylist is. “Let’s get you sorted. Big day ahead, yeah?”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat as you allow them to guide you deeper into the space.

The stylist ushered you to a corner sectioned off with screens. The team works like a well-oiled machine in the background, and you see the occasional test flash of a camera. You can feel the liveliness, and it’s only heightened by the nervous flutter in your chest.

“This is yours,” the stylist says, holding up a dress with reverence. It was breathtaking: a sleek black silk that shimmers faintly under the soft lights, with delicate lace accents that hint at sophistication without overstating. The smooth fabric is cool against your fingertips.  

Slipping behind the screen, you take a deep breath as you begin to change. The silk whispers against your skin, a perfect fit that clings to your frame in all the right places. Once dressed, you turn to face the full-length mirror propped against the wall, smoothing out any wrinkles in the fabric. Your heart races.

“I can do this.” You stare at your reflection like you can will the confidence into existence. “It’s just a shoot. With two very hot guys.” You bit your lip, rolling your eyes at yourself. “We’re professionals.”

The makeup artists gives you a final sweep of powder, a quick touch of a frosty gloss, and then steps back with a satisfied nod.

“You’re all set,” she smiles brightly, and the stylist chimed in with an agreement as she adjusts the strap on the dress.

You stand up and step out from behind the screen just as Sirius saunters over, his grin lighting up the space around him. He gives you a once-over, his eyes glittering with unmistakable appreciation.

“Feeling alright, love?” he asks, voice playful but with a sincerity that softened the edges. “You look so good; I fear I might get distracted.”

Your cheeks warm, but you manage a small smile. “High praise coming from you.”

“It’s only the truth,” he says with a wink, hands tucked casually into his pockets as if he hasn’t just made your heart skip a beat.

Remus, who has been adjusting the lighting nearby, glances up and chimes in. “He’s right. You’ll warm up as you go, I’m sure.”

You inhale deeply, letting their easy confidence in you take root. Your nerves don’t vanish completely, but they shift into something more bearable – a nervous excitement that sparked rather than suffocated.

“Ready?” Sirius asks, extending a hand toward the bar.

The first shoot begins just as you settle in front of the lights pointing toward the bar. Sirius is already in position, leaning against the counter with effortless poise. His tie is loosened just enough to seem rakish; his hair is tucked behind his ear to expose the left side of his face.

You step into your mark opposite of him, and every muscle in your body suddenly becomes hyperaware. His smile is maddening, his pose causal yet commanding. Meanwhile, you feel like a bundle of awkward limbs trying not to fall over.

“Alright, darling,” Sirius drawls. “Just pretend I said something devastatingly charming.”

You laugh nervously, trying to match his energy. But as the camera clicks, you realize how rigid you are. Your arms are still, shoulders tight, fingers curling like they don’t know where to go. It was like it was your first time all over again. You’re not usually this nervous. How does he make it look so easy?

“Relax.” Sirius clearly read your mind. He straightens slightly, rotating his shoulders in a slow, exaggerated roll. “We’re not mannequins. We breathe, we stretch.”

He demonstrates again, the movements so fluid it makes you want to sigh with envy. “Come on, try it with me.”

You hesitate, then mimic his shoulder roll. It feels ridiculous at first, but Sirius gives you an approving nod. “There we go. Much better already.”

From behind the camera, Remus steps forward, his gaze calm and steady as he considers you.

“Think about it like this.” His voice is thoughtful and deliberate. “If you were having a secret conversation with him,” he gestures to Sirius, “what would it look like?”

Heat rises to your cheeks at the thought. The idea makes you feel like you are being examined, and more like you were part of something intimate – something shared. You angle your head just a tad, letting the thought play out in your mind. And almost without meaning to, your lips part and the sides curve into a small smirk.

“Now you’re getting it.” Sirius smiles. He leans in, raising a brow as if he can hear the imaginary exchange you conjured,

The camera clicks rapidly as Remus’ voice cuts through occasionally. “Yes, that’s in. Hold that for me, love.” His praise felt sincere and grounding – a subtle tether keeping you steady.

“Perfect,” Sirius adds, his grin widening. “And just think – we’ve only just started.”

Bit by bit, you feel the tension eases out of you, and your movements become more natural. They keep the energy light, Sirius throwing in the occasional quip, and Remus’ steady voice offering praise like, “That’s gorgeous, stay there.”

[heliads]

don't ask too many questions - hayconroland

Hayden wants Connor. Connor clearly doesn't want Hayden, but he does want Hayden to stop hanging around Roland. Or maybe he just doesn't want them to be together when he's not there.

masterlist

Hayden Upchurch is seventeen years old and sick of himself when he realizes he’s in love with his best friend. The one who’s dating his other best friend, that is. The one who would never, ever, fall for someone like Hayden. 

He’s had a problem with daydreaming, always has. Feels like the worst part of his heritage– two actor parents, of course he’d come up with a fantasy, everyone around him with a part to play to secure his happy ending. Hayden wants to believe that the world revolves around him and so he does. Even when his parents split. Even when they give him up to be dismembered. Even when he comes in contact with the one boy who finally might put him first, and then doesn’t.

But then again, who hasn’t wanted to be in love with Connor Lassiter? Hayden hasn’t met a single soul in the Graveyard who hasn’t contemplated it at some point. Sure, some make a point of pretending they’d never go there, but they would. They all would. Even Hayden. That’s kind of why this aches so bad. Connor has his pick of anyone in the world, even if he hasn’t put that together yet. He could have anyone, and he doesn’t want Hayden.

The worst part is, Hayden’s pretty sure he could have made it happen were it not for the fact that the good story has already started to play out. Connor chose Risa. Of course he would. It’s a match made in heaven, if there’s any bit of heaven reserved for the bits-and-pieces Unwinds even a mother couldn’t love. Pretty people fall in love with pretty people. Risa’s smart and Connor’s brave. Hayden knew it was over for him the second they showed up together, and with a baby no less. God, it’s like they’re already jumpstarting their iconic unwind celebrity family.

It makes him want to gag, and he probably would, if it weren’t for the fact that he feels more like sobbing instead. Technically, Connor and Risa haven’t announced anything, or done anything for that matter, but they don’t have to. Hayden’s seen enough lovesick glances to know a crush when it’s right in front of his face.

It was one thing when he could hide from the truth of it, tucked away in the darkness of the antique store basement. In the shadows, Hayden could convince himself of anything, even that the Akron Awol might find him hot. And– it’s stupid, right? Hayden knows he’s hot. The PR agent his parents hired for him since the age of five has made sure of that. Yet all it takes is one (honestly, average) teenage outlaw and Hayden’s wondering if his hair has somehow lost its luster or if his eyes are starting to bleach out their blue. Maybe his jokes are falling flat. Maybe he was never funny in the first place. Maybe that’s why Connor wouldn’t look at him unless his feet were on fire or something.

Trapped in the Graveyard, there’s no hiding from the truth. Stuck labeling boxes and unpacking crates, Hayden has the perfect view as Connor and Risa make more excuses to find each other. He’s organizing canned food now, slamming each box down with unnecessary force so he doesn’t punch somebody instead. He has the perfect view through the bars of the storage caddy as Connor benefits from another excuse to visit the medical wing.

Connor has just emerged from the med bay, grinning ear to ear. He shakes his head foolishly as he heads back into the sunlight, as if unable to believe himself. Hayden can’t believe it, either. He certainly can’t believe that he’s still letting himself feel so terrible over the proud smirk on Connor’s face, the pride that certainly means he’s not holding himself back the way Hayden is.

He can’t do this anymore. Slumped against a wall of crates, Hayden’s eye catches a flicker of pink amongst the scores of labels. It’s a heart, part of a logo of some company. Filled with a sudden, irrational burst of anger, he lunges forward and tears the heart away, piece by piece, until blood wells up underneath the edges of his fingertips. He sucks on his index finger to take the sharp prick of pain away, cursing both the can and himself. He could go to medical to get it cleaned up, of course, but then he’d have to see Risa, and that’s out of the question.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

A sudden voice nearly makes Hayden jump out of his skin. He bangs his head against one of the shelves, and straightens up, swearing, to get a good look at whoever’s just surprised him. Oddly enough, it’s Roland. He doesn’t usually bother Hayden, opting instead to save himself the nuisance of Hayden’s endless barbs and digs at his expense, but apparently Hayden’s done something today to warrant the visit. Lovely.

“Jesus,” Hayden mutters under his breath, rubbing the sore spot on his head, “Where’d you come from? Don’t tell me you’ve taken to spawning out of the shadows now.”

Roland just chuckles, face completely deadpan. “I’ll consider it. Why do you look like you just got hit by a bus? I want to know who beat me to it.”

Hayden rolls his eyes. He barely has the strength to deal with his own thoughts. Roland is so far from what Hayden can deal with, it’s not even funny. “Can you just– just fuck off, will you? Go bother one of the little kids and leave me alone.”

He tries to storm off, but there isn’t much room tucked in amongst the crates, so Hayden is only able to stomp a few feet away and stand with his back to Roland, glowering at the jars of green olives in front of him. He can just make out Roland’s reflection behind him in the watery sheen of the glass, the confused furrow of his brow.

“What’s gotten into you?” Roland asks, genuinely curious.

Hayden doesn’t even bother to answer. He reaches out, uselessly straightening the rows of olives in the hopes that Roland will get bored and leave him alone. Strangely enough, Roland doesn’t, and walks closer to Hayden until they’re shoulder to shoulder again.

“Seriously,” Roland says. “I’ve never known anything that could make you shut up. I’m kind of jealous.”

Against his will, Hayden’s gaze betrays him and flits through the gaps in the crates to where Connor still idles near the medical bay. Roland turns his head to follow Hayden’s line of breath and he sucks in a breath as he puts the pieces together far too quickly.

“Oh,” Roland says, voice strangely deep. “Oh, shit.”

Hayden feels as if all the blood in his body has suddenly rushed to his feet. His face must be like bone, stripped of any sign of light. “You shut the fuck up,” he says unsteadily, “You shut the fuck up, I swear to God, I’ll kill you, I swear it. I’ll fucking kill you. I’ll hit you so bad you won’t even walk. Don’t you say a damn thing.”

They both know it’s bullshit, Roland could kick Hayden’s ass in a second. This close, practically breathing down each other’s throats, Hayden can sense all that muscle, vibrating with nerves. Everything in Roland is electric, ready to pounce, but instead, he says raggedly, “I can help with that.”

Hayden blinks in surprise. “You want to help me kill you?”

Roland shakes his head disgustedly. “No, dumbass. I can help you with Connor.”

Hayden just stares. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

Something like a muscle twitch pulls the corner of Roland’s lips up into a half-smirk. “I like getting under his skin. Maybe under his shirt, at least.”

A flash of white-hot courses through Hayden in an instant. He waits for Roland to start laughing, or start swinging, to tell him that he’d been joking, or messing with him, or something, anything, for this situation to make sense. Instead, Roland leans a little closer, expectant, and Hayden realizes that he’s not joking around at all.

“Alright,” Hayden says at last. “What did you have in mind?”

Roland’s teeth bare in a full grin. “I was hoping you’d ask. See, I’ve noticed something about our mutual friend. Connor doesn’t do very well with jealousy.”

Hayden laughs derisively before he can stop himself. “Problem with that one, Roland. Connor isn’t jealous of either of us.”

Roland doesn’t look remotely fazed by this. “Want to bet?”

They both turn as one again to look over at Connor. Stupid, reckless Connor, who’s straightened up to look back at them, who may be seeing two silhouettes behind the storage crates where there should just be one. Connor doesn’t look quite so carefree anymore. In fact, although it may be reaching, Hayden would go so far as to say that he looks quite worried indeed.

Hayden lets out a low whistle. “You actually might be right about that one.”

Roland scoffs. “I’m usually right. You just don’t pay attention.”

Hayden fights the urge to roll his eyes again and only mostly succeeds. “How’d you know?”

Roland initiates an elaborate shrug. “I know what to do when a boy doesn’t give me what I want.”

He’s really close right now, Hayden realizes. He’s not sure when Roland got that close, but Hayden can either stay here or back up, and this closed in surrender doesn’t really seem like an option, so he stays. Roland’s breath is hot on his mouth. They’re still so damn close. This might be what heatstroke feels like. Insanity may set in soon, if it hasn’t already.

“Alright,” Hayden stumbles. “Let’s make him jealous, then.”

Roland’s grin really is sharklike, Hayden decides, but he can’t tell if he’s the prey or Connor. Maybe both. “Great choice.”

Before Hayden can do or say something stupid, Connor appears around the stack of crates, peering at both of them dubiously. “What are you two doing?”

Roland reacts immediately, like he was waiting for it. Probably salivating over their moment of discovery, too, like a dog with the premise of a bone. “Talking, Connor. You’re familiar with it?”

He claps his hand down on Hayden’s shoulder, and Hayden does his best not to startle. He feels like he’s hyper aware of everything going on with his bicep, down to the slightest shuffle of Roland’s fingers against the fabric of Hayden’s shirt, or the heaviness of Roland’s breathing despite doing his best to pretend as if nothing were the matter.

Connor seems to notice it too. His eyes are glued to Roland’s hand on Hayden, and it seems to take him considerable effort to swallow harshly and say, “That true, Hayden?”

Hayden can practically feel Roland’s gaze boring down on him, demanding that he play along. Well, Hayden’s perfectly fine with playing along. It’s supposed to be in his genes, isn’t it? “All good, Connor. Just fucking around on duty. You going to report us to the Admiral?”

He manages to force a chuckle as he says it, and Roland nods along, clearly pleased. Connor swallows again. “Just– get back to work, will you?”

“So bossy, isn’t he?” Roland muses, and it seems like an inside joke between him and Hayden. Hayden laughs because he can, because he should. Connor looks like he’s stopped being able to understand the language they’re speaking.

Roland lets the moment sit a second longer, then tears his hand from Hayden at last and sweeps away, purposely bumping into Connor as he goes. Both Hayden and Connor watch him disappear. Connor turns back to Hayden once Roland is out of view, and says hoarsely, “What was that?”

Hayden can’t answer.

Everything feels different, and does for hours after. Days, even. At meals, Roland appears to drag Hayden away by the arm, and they eat alone together, tucked in a corner of the room where no one else can reach them. They’re always touching, somehow– a shin against a shin, a hand on an arm, fingers grasping the back of Hayden’s neck like the scruff of a dog. He’s going to explode with the force of something great and terrible, but Connor first, because Connor has to see all this happen and not feel it, too, not like Hayden. Hayden gets to feel it all, because Roland asked him, not Connor. It feels fucking fantastic.

It all comes to a head about a week later. Connor’s been strumming with the rage of not being the first choice for several days now. Hayden wants to tell him that he’s being really selfish– how long had Hayden put up with the same thing, anyway, several weeks? Months? Longer than this, at least. Hayden could take it if their situations were reversed. Probably.

Connor’s been trying to talk to Hayden all day, but Hayden keeps dodging him, claiming to be busy or something. At last, when night falls, Connor tracks him down and Hayden runs out of excuses.

“It’s dark,” he tries to claim, Connor’s hand thick and strong on the sleeve of his jacket, “People are trying to sleep, Connor. We can’t disturb them.”

“Fine,” Connor says icily, and all but drags him to one of the grounded planes. 

Roland meets them halfway there. Maybe the scent of Hayden’s fear carries across the whole damn Graveyard. Sure feels that way, at least. He says not a word but walks with them, opens the door of the plane. Locks it behind them.

Then they’re all standing in a rough circle, Connor’s hand still stuck on Hayden’s jacket sleeve. “I want to know what this is about,” he says roughly. “And don’t try to bullshit me. You’re doing something.”

Roland folds his arms across his chest, all casual. “We’re doing something, alright.”

Connor almost growls with irritation. “You’re trying to bother me. I get it, I’ve been snapping at everybody. Fine. It’s dangerous out there, I wanted to keep us safe. Sue me, but talk to me, instead of doing this.”

Roland grins. Sharklike again. Like he doesn’t know how to smile any other way. “What are we doing, Connor? You tell us.”

“Us,” Connor seethes. “There’s never been an us. This is what I’m talking about. You keep playing up this– this thing between the two of you. You’re trying to get to me, I don’t know why, but I’m sick of it. Can’t you be normal for once in your lives?”

Hayden can sense the power thrumming through the room, turning the air thick and hot with imbalance, but for once, it’s not on Connor’s side. It feels good to be the one in charge, he has to say. Hayden doesn’t usually like it, but he does now.

“Why would us talking bother you, Connor?” He says, relaxed as anything. “I don’t see what could possibly be the problem. We’re just talking.”

Connor rounds on him. “You’re not just talking, though. I know you aren’t. Maybe you’re trying to get me out or something. I don’t know what you’re doing.”

Roland stalks closer. “It bothers you, doesn’t it? Not knowing what we’re up to.”

“That’s what I just said,” Connor spits out, but he doesn’t sound as self-righteous as he did before. In fact, his voice wobbles slightly on the last syllable, just like it had when he’d caught them the first time.

“I don’t know why it would bother you,” Hayden says matter-of-factly. “To be honest, if you’ve got anything wrong with it, I think you should prove it. Otherwise, I mean, how would we know what you want?”

It’s a good move, Hayden’s proud of it. Even Roland’s grinning, the two of them in on another joke. Connor chafes against that exclusion like a dog at a bit, foaming at the mouth at the thought of them having anything without him.

“What I want,” Connor says slowly, voice thick with it, “is for you two to stop fucking around like this. Stop looking at me like I’m the odd one out. You two hate each other, anyway.”

Roland stalks closer. The way he’s eying Connor is downright predatory. “I think I’m confused. Do you want us to stop, or do you want to be a part of it?”

“I don’t even know what it is,” Connor tries to say, but his voice drops away into nothingness the closer Roland gets to him. Hayden can understand the feeling. He still feels like the floor of the plane isn’t all too steady anymore.

“I think you do,” Roland says. He looms over them both now, less in stature and more in spirit. The span of him could last forever. Enough for Connor and Hayden to share, and a little left over too.

Hayden’s jacket is on the floor, and he only knows it happens at all because of the quick flash of Connor’s hands ripping it off of him in the corner of Hayden’s vision. Roland doesn’t even react to the motion. He just keeps staring at the two of them, grinning, waiting. Then he moves, is on them in an instant, and there’s nothing any of them could have done after that.

Hayden honestly doesn’t know if Connor was there to stop them or join. In the end, it doesn’t matter. Hayden knows how that would-be intervention ended, and it didn’t really seem like Connor was that keen on any of them stopping, for that matter.

He has no idea what’s going to happen after this. Roland’s plan really only went so far as getting Connor to snap, no continuity for the fallout. For once, though, Hayden doesn’t think he needs a plan for how to act, what to do. Maybe he can just make it up as he goes along. Roland and Connor would be down, and nothing else really matters. Everything is business as usual and he feels good. Really good, actually, and if Hayden’s voice is oddly hoarse the next morning, most people have the good sense not to ask why.

Most people, that is. Risa sidles up to Hayden later that day. He’s pretending to organize some cans of food, although he starts pretending extra hard when he notices the suspicious look on her face. 

“The windows on one of the planes were quite fogged up this morning,” Risa remarks. 

“Planes do that sometimes,” Hayden replies calmly. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Risa casts him a sidelong glance, but when Hayden refuses to extrapolate on that absolute failure of a sentence, she sighs so deeply he’s pretty sure the Admiral could hear it from his office. She looks like she’s going to call him out on this obvious bit of bullshit, but then she spots something across the tarmac and straightens up a little. 

“Never mind,” she says, “I think I’ve answered my own question.”

Risa starts to walk away, then pauses as if she’s just thought of something important and turns back to him. “Don’t do anything stupid, Hayden. Or anything else stupid.”

With those inspiring words of wisdom, Risa heads back the way she’d come. Hayden frowns, confused, then tries to figure out what she’d been looking at to change her mind so quickly. 

It doesn’t take long to figure it out. Shaded by the metal underbelly of one of the Graveyard’s many planes, two figures stand close together, their shoulders brushing as they whisper. Roland and Connor. Two people who supposedly hate each other, who did hate each other or were at least good at pretending until last night. Now, instead of trying to kill each other, they’re muttering back and forth, all the while both eyeing Hayden with identical, bloodthirsty grins. Like they knew exactly what prey they wanted. Like they already knew it was twitching under their claws. 

Oh, Hayden is so fucked. But hasn’t that always been true?

unwind tag list: @reinekes-fox, @sirofreak, @locke-writes

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[bryan-writes]

Hey! I don't know if you take requests but I like collecting headcanons of people

so do you have some Obey me headcanons?

Have a wonderful day<3. (if you don't take requests then feel free to ignore)

Hello anon, I hope this is what you were asking for! Thank you sm for the request, I hope you have a wonderful day as well lovely<3!

Obey me headcannons— the seven brothers

Just a bunch of cute head cannons I have about the brothers :)

No warnings!

Lovely dividers by @cafekitsune <3

Lucifer

A total plant dad in secret! He has a small collection of rare plants in his office (hidden away from Mammon ofc). He enjoys their low-maintenance nature and often has a calming ritual of watering them and reflecting after a long day. You found out by accident once, and gift him small plants whenever you visit the human realm (a spider plant, dracaena, snake plant).

He's a classical vinyl collector. I feel like this one’s pretty popular, but he has an extensive vinyl collection (mainly of classical or jazz) and insists they sound better than any digital recording he’s heard. He prefers to listen to them alone, insisting his brothers will only ruin the experience, but he’ll never deny or turn you away if you ask to join him.

He’s a total fancy sleepwear enthusiast. You’d think it’d be an Asmo thing, but Lucifer has a collection of luxurious silk and satin pajamas. He believes that “even in sleep, one must uphold dignity” (he gave you that speech the first week when you wobbled through the kitchen in an old, stained band shirt).

Mammon

He’s absolutely adored by stray animals in the Devildom, but especially by cats. They tend to follow him around (much to Satan’s dismay), and he’s always a bit flustered about it but secretly loves it. Sometimes he’ll even sneak treats and treasures to them (things like fancy ribbons and long necklace chains).

He’s a total hoarder too, keeping a collection of things that remind him of you specifically— small trinkets, wrapped, tickets/receipts, photos (I wrote a oneshot for this if you want more!). He keeps them hidden, safe from his brother’s prying eyes and questions.

He also has a ton of good luck charms. A little ceramic ladybug, a pressed four-leaf clover, crystals, a horseshoe, etc. He’s convinced they’ll bring him good luck and fortune in his schemes, even if he doesn’t quite remember where they all came from. His favorite good luck charm is you though. He refuses to leave the house in the mornings without a good luck kiss.

Levi

It’s no secret that Levi loves the ocean, keeping a fish tank that he’s decorated to look like the real deal. He’ll watch Henry swim around in the rare moments he’s unwinding, taking the quiet time to find inspiration for his gaming and anime stories.

He totally has an otaku daily planner that he’s decorated with anime stickers and fan art. He tracks everything from game release dates to plans with you— which he surrounds with little hearts. He’ll doodle in free spaces and will bring it with him everywhere.

He’s a total random trivia buff, with a surprising amount of knowledge for most obscure topics. He’s like the caps of Snapple bottles, popping off with a random fact that relates to the conversation every now and then.

Satan

Satan is an avid audiobook listener. He likes to experience different narrations of the classics he loves, often falling asleep to them. There have been countless times where he’s recorded you reading to him just to later listen to your voice when he naps.

Over the years, he’s secretly given each of his brothers a nickname of a cat breed based on their personalities. He calls Mammon a Bengal (for their boldness) and Lucifer a Maine Coon (dignified and regal) for example. Nobody knows he does this, and would rather die than tell anyone.

Satan is a tea connoisseur. He loves to experiment with different tea blends based on his current read. He’ll make a “Wuthering Heights” blend on stormy days or a “Sherlock Holmes” blend when he’s feeling particularly investigative.

Asmo

Asmo has a vast collection of rare perfumes and fragrances from both the human and demon realm and can identify perfumes by smell alone. He’ll often make blends for you that he thinks “capture your essence”, and makes you wear them on date nights.

He creates outfits based on moods, and very rarely based on occasions or weather (although whatever he wears is beyond beautiful anyway). If he’s feeling even slightly out of sorts, he’ll wear a specific scarf to “help align his vibes”, insisting you wear a matching one with him.

Asmo has an elaborate manicure routine, and he offers special “spa nights” just for you (it’s become a weekly routine). He does all of his brother's nails, but never treats them to full nights of face and hair care that he does with you.

Beel

He loves to experiment with recipes, trying to come up with “the ultimate snack” with a variety of unique flavors. He has a small notebook filled with random snack ideas he wants to try with you, including “infernal honey nachos” and “fiery chocolate popcorn”.

He will occasionally build the most elaborate and beautiful blanket forts in his room, to hide from his brothers for quiet time and snacks. He’ll sometimes invite you to join him for late-night snack chats.

Beel loves trying to combine Devildom foods with human foods, attempting to make hybrids like “hellberry pizza” or “demonic takoyaki.” He gets super excited when you introduce him to new human-realm foods and suggest new fashion ideas.

Belphie

He has curated playlists for every possible sleeping scenario ever. He has a “nap in a meadow” playlist and an “underwater dream”, which he’ll share with you if you ever want the “perfect sleep/nap vibes.”

Belphie has a habit of sketching while sleepy. He doesn’t remember half of what he draws, but he’s done some surprisingly good doodles of you, the brothers, and his dreams. You’ve started keeping them to collect in a sketchbook for him.

He actually puts some thought into his “lazy look.” He has favorite clothes that he feels make him look effortlessly comfortable and will proudly say, “Fashion is all about making it look like you didn't try.” (You’ve seen him get mad when his hair won’t look ‘the right amount of disheveled’, whatever that means).

[yoongikapi]

nights with him || levi || oneshot

fluff

aot masterlist

late at night, long after the sun has set was always your favorite time of day. after all the paperwork, after a long, tiring day of expeditions and strategic talk, you loved to just unwind with your boyfriend. of course being humanity’s strongest comes with a lot of responsibilities. he’s away longer, has more paperwork, and as a result you don’t get to see him as much as you’d like. but at the end of the day after all the work, he always comes home to you. just like now.

you wrap your arms around him as the front door closes; the cold air from outside still whirling around the entryway. he wraps an arm around your waist while the other hangs his cloak on the hook. he smiles at you and you’re grateful he’s home safe.

after eating and showering, he joins you in bed. both sets of hands go to their designated spots. his grab around your waist and pull you close, yours cup his face; thumb stroking his cheek. this is your favorite part of your nights. watching and holding him close; holding him like he’d never go anywhere again. you were so proud and thankful for this man and by looking into his eyes you could tell he thought the same about you.

smiling, you ask him to tell you about his day and he does. you start to doze to his sweet voice, and cuddle up closer to his chest,

“your voice is making me fall asleep” you sigh.

“are you saying i’m boring you, brat?”

you chuckle, “no i’m saying i feel safe with you”

he shifts and pulls you on top of his chest, reaching an arm under your shirt and scratching your back. he doesn’t respond, but he places kisses on top of your head and tightly hugs you, knowing he doesn’t want to let you go.

<3

[itendtothinkalot]

a little secret romance trope

Summary: reader and beomgyu try their very best to keep their relationship under the wraps...but it doesnt help their friends have no boundaries

Genre: fluffy

Characters: beomgyu x f!reader

Words: 6360

Completed (oneshot)

Beomgyu and you had been secretly dating for six months, a fact you managed to keep hidden from your friend group with surprising success. On the outside, you seemed like a duo that would have never made sense—a bubbly, outgoing, dashing young man and an introverted homebody who only left her house when food was offered.

Your covert glances and stolen moments of affection added a thrilling layer to your otherwise routine meetups. As Beomgyu cracked jokes and you rolled your eyes in mock annoyance, in truth, you were a little surprised that none of your friends suspected the lingering touches.

You both had to admit, sneaking around was getting exhausting, especially when your friends were the nosiest group of people. Though, you weren’t going to lie, you did enjoy the thrill of a swift kiss when no one’s looking or a quick sneaky squeeze of the thigh.

—-

"Just some coffee. To go. Thanks," you ordered.

Yeonjun smiled, "Got it."

The six of you were always at the café Yeonjun had opened. It was a little unconventional for  your friends to consistently hang out at the café, but it was a place to unwind if nothing else. The warm, rustic atmosphere, with its wooden beams and soft lighting, created a cozy backdrop for your gatherings. 

"Where’s Kai? I thought he started working here?" you asked, looking around for your tall, goofy friend.

"I don’t know." Yeonjun sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It’s fine. We’re technically fully staffed anyway. Tsk, didn’t need him one bit."

"Right," you nodded weirdly, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"Where ya going? You’re not gonna stay around a little longer? Soobin and Taehyun are supposed to get off work soon. They’re coming right over."

"Not today. I kind of have to visit my mom," you lied, shifting on your feet.

"Isn’t your mom on a cruise with your dad?"

"No. No. Sorry, I’m a bit muddle headed today. Not my mom, my aunt. I’m visiting my aunt."

"Okay…?" Yeonjun looked at you slightly suspiciously, his eyes narrowing.

Just as you were about to respond, the café door chimed, and Beomgyu walked in, his presence instantly lighting up the room. His eyes met yours briefly, a flicker of warmth passing between you. He made his way to the counter, leaning casually against it as he ordered his usual drink. You couldn't help but steal glances at him, your heart racing with the thrill of your secret.

Yeonjun handed you your coffee, still eyeing you with mild curiosity. "Well, say hi to your aunt for me," he said, a hint of teasing in his voice.

"Will do," you replied, forcing a smile.

"Well, I gotta go too," Beomgyu cleared his throat and stood up, his movements a bit too hurried to seem casual.

"But, you just got here," Yeonjun tilted his head, confused.

"Yeah, I forgot, I have stuff to do. Y’know how uni is," Beomgyu chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Alright, see you later then."

Beomgyu flashed a quick smile before making his way to the door, and you followed a few moments later, making sure not to draw any more attention to yourselves. Outside, the bustling city sounds provided a stark contrast to the café's cozy ambiance. The evening sun cast a warm glow over the streets, making the pavement shimmer.

Beomgyu waited for you around the corner, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. When you approached, he grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief before pulling you in for a tight bear hug. "Nice save back there."

"It was, until you showed up. I told you to wait outside," you chided playfully, pulling away from his embrace.

"It was hot!" Beomgyu whined, pouting slightly.

"You're an idiot," you rolled your eyes and placed your hands in his. "C'mon. Let's go."

"My place? The boys are all out so we get the whole place to ourselves, if you know what I mean," Beomgyu suggested, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

You laughed, shaking your head at his antics. "Sure thing, handsome, lead the way."

Beomgyu's apartment was just a short walk away, nestled in a cozy neighborhood filled with tree-lined streets and charming old buildings. When you arrived at his place, Beomgyu unlocked the door and ushered you inside. The apartment was comfortably messy, filled with the signs of everyday life—a guitar propped against the wall, books and magazines scattered on the coffee table, and a few jackets thrown over the back of the couch. 

"Beomgyu?" Kai's voice interrupted your thoughts.

"Kai? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the café?" Beomgyu asked, surprise evident in his voice.

"Yeah, but like…it’s a Saturday and I just…I’m tired, man." Kai sighed, plopping down onto the couch with a sigh.

"You started yesterday," you said, raising an eyebrow.

"I’ll have you kn—wait a minute, what the hell are you doing here?" Kai questioned, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"I... came to help Beomgyu with his thesis?" you replied, trying to sound convincing.

"You took a 30 minute train ride just to help Beomgyu with his thesis? That’s some kind of weird dedication you have," Kai said, though his tone suggested he wasn't entirely convinced. "Whatever. Just don’t tell Yeonjun that I’m here."

"Your secret's safe with us," Beomgyu said, giving Kai a reassuring pat on the back. "But you owe me one for covering for you."

Kai rolled his eyes but smiled. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Thanks, man."

As Kai settled in, Beomgyu glanced at you with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. The unexpected interruption had thrown a wrench into your plans, but you couldn't help but laugh at the situation. Beomgyu shrugged.

"You want something to drink?" Beomgyu offered, heading to the kitchen.

"Sure," you replied, sinking into the couch next to Kai. "So, what's your plan for the rest of the day?"

"Honestly? Just chilling," Kai said, stretching his arms over his head. "Might as well enjoy my day off, right?"

"Right," you agreed, glancing towards the kitchen where Beomgyu was rummaging through the fridge.

“So should we head upstairs?” Beomgyu asked, his voice carrying a hint of suggestion.

“Upstairs? Why can’t the two of you just do it here? I’m bored. Maybe I can help!” Kai interjected enthusiastically, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“If you’re bored, go to work.” Beomgyu deadpanned.

“I’m bored but not that bored.” 

“Oh... uh...besides, it’s more of a...” You stuttered, trying to think of an excuse while shooting a panicked glance at Beomgyu.

Beomgyu grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief as he decided to play along. "Actually, Kai, it’s about my thesis on the history of plumbing regulations in pre-modern Europe. Pretty dry stuff, you know?”

Kai’s grin faded instantly, replaced by a look of confusion mixed with disbelief. “Plumbing regulations? Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Beomgyu nodded seriously, his expression deadpan. “I have to analyze the impact of sanitation policies on urban development during the Middle Ages. It’s actually pretty interesting. If you want, you can help me read some of th-”

“Blah blah blah. Y’know what, I’ll go and find Taehyun at work. Maybe ruin his lunch time. That’ll teach him to work on a Saturday.” Kai blinked, clearly taken aback by the unexpected subject matter.

“Sure.” Beomgyu cleared his throat, opening the door for Kai.

As soon as Kai left, you looked over to Beomgyu. 

“Plumbing regulations?” you managed to say between giggles.

“It was the first thing I thought of,” Beomgyu chuckled, shaking his head.

“Plumbing regulations,” you repeated, still laughing. “I can’t believe he bought that.”

“Hey, it worked,” Beomgyu grinned, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “Sometimes you just gotta improvise.”

 The two of you looked at each other, sharing one last chuckle before Beomgyu stepped closer to you.

“Alright, so about that alone time,” Beomgyu winked, “What should we do now?”

“Maybe we can actually get some work done on that thesis you were complaining to me about last night,” you suggested teasingly, earning a groan from Beomgyu.

“Baby, I was joking.” Beomgyu sighed.

“The reminders on your phone screen say otherwise. You have like 10 things on your to-do list. I’m here to finish at least some of them with you.”

“You’re on my to-do list,” he teased, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

“I’ll drop kick you,” you retorted, playfully rolling your eyes.

Beomgyu laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “Alright, alright. Let’s see what we can knock off the list then.”

—-

“Who the fuck are you texting? You’ve been giggling and kicking your feet like a little girl,” Soobin nudged Beomgyu, who had an idiotic grin on his face.

The two of you had been texting cute, lovey-dovey messages to each other all evening, unknowingly irritating Soobin.

“Yeah, who are you texting?” you chimed in, trying to ease his suspicions.

“Your goofy smile is making me lose my focus,” Soobin muttered, his eyes darting between his laptop and Beomgyu.

“No one. It’s just Yeonjun,” Beomgyu lied, trying to maintain a straight face.

Soobin squinted suspiciously. “Yeonjun? He’s not that funny.”

“That’s because you don’t know his hilarious side,” Beomgyu retorted, trying to sound convincing.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Yeah! Maybe Yeonjun's just gotten funnier without us realizing it. He made a joke once about pickles. I laughed.”

Soobin raised an eyebrow but decided to drop the subject, returning his attention to his work. “Oh, yeah, sure, and Beomgyu got less annoying. Some things aren’t meant to be.”

The atmosphere in the room lightened as the conversation shifted. You and Beomgyu exchanged a quick, knowing glance, both of you relieved that Soobin hadn’t caught on. Beomgyu’s phone buzzed again, and he quickly typed a reply, a small smile playing on his lips.

—

“Does anyone think Beomgyu has been super weird recently?” Taehyun brought up, voicing a concern that had been quietly nagging at him.

“What d’ya mean?” you asked, feeling a knot of worry forming in your stomach.

Beomgyu had excused himself to the toilet, leaving the five of you to speculate on what might be going on with your secret boyfriend. Soobin glanced around the table, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Yeah, now that you mention it,” Soobin mused, leaning back in his chair. “He’s been more distracted lately. And secretive. It’s like he’s hiding something from us.”

“Which is weird, since he’s usually an open book,” Kai chimed in, fidgeting with his phone. 

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, his expression thoughtful. “Y’know what, I noticed he’s been on his phone a lot more, too. And he’s been disappearing randomly. He’d go out at weird timings like at 2am.”

“He’s probably just stressed with uni stuff,” you offered, trying to brush off your own concerns. 

“Maybe,” Taehyun nodded slowly, but the worry in his eyes was evident. “I just hope everything’s okay with him.”

“What about you? Have you noticed anything?” Taehyun nudged you, sensing your unease.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Uh, not that I know of. We haven’t been hanging out lately.” It was a lie, a really bad one. You felt almost guilty lying this much to your closest friends. 

“Well... this is just between us, but…” Yeonjun whispered, leaning closer. “Last night, I heard him on the phone. I wasn’t eavesdropping, but he was kinda loud about it so I just listened.”

“So you were eavesdropping,” Soobin teased, narrowing his eyes playfully.

“Eh,” Yeonjun smirked. “I heard him on the phone, talking to someone. A girl. I couldn’t hear her voice very clearly, but it was a girl. They were giggling and Beomgyu was saying stuff like ‘I’ll see you tomorrow’ or ‘Wear that dress I like.’”

The revelation hit the group like a bombshell. Soobin's eyes widened as he exchanged glances with the others. “A girl?” he echoed, clearly perplexed. “But... why would Beomgyu hide something like that from us?”

“It could be nothing,” you interjected quickly, trying to ease the tension. “Maybe it’s just a friend or something.”

Kai crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Would you say something like that to any of us?” he asked, matter-of-factly.

You shrugged, shaking your head.

The room fell silent as everyone pondered Kai’s question. The revelation seemed to hang in the air, creating an unspoken pressure that made your heart race even faster. You could feel the weight of their gazes as they waited for someone to break the silence.

“Who do you think it is?” Soobin asked, his curiosity piqued.

“I don’t know,” Yeonjun admitted with a shrug.

“Oh, oh, oh!” Kai snapped his fingers suddenly. “It could be the girl from his uni. The pretty one he brought home a few weeks back to do their group project? Do you think it’s her?”

“He brought a girl home?” you asked, feeling a mix of jealousy and curiosity.

“Yeah,” Kai nodded eagerly. “Remember? He said they were working on some big project together. She’s cute, too. Maybe things went beyond just studying.”

Soobin raised an eyebrow. “And he didn’t tell us?”

“Maybe he didn’t want to jinx it,” Kai suggested with a grin.

Taehyun shook his head, looking concerned. “But why hide it? We’re his friends.”

“Well, maybe it’s still early days,” you reasoned, trying to make sense of the situation. 

“So what do we do?” Soobin asked, glancing around the table.

“We wait,” Yeonjun said, leaning back in his chair. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. If there’s something going on, Beomgyu will tell us when he’s ready.”

“Hey, whatchu guys yapping about today?” Beomgyu said, returning to his seat.

“Football.” The gang says in unison.

—-

“The guys think you’re dating your uni friend,” you blurted out.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“They heard you on the phone with me,” you continued, trying to explain quickly. “Yeonjun overheard you talking to someone and they jumped to conclusions.”

Beomgyu’s expression shifted from surprise to a mixture of confusion and concern. “Oh shit! Do they know it’s you?”

“They think it's the girl from your group project,” you added, feeling a pang of uncertainty. “They think... maybe something’s going on between you two.”

“Well, that should give us enough cover.” Beomgyu shrugged, chuckling.

“Yeah but…they’re picturing you with another girl and there’s something unsettling about that.” You sighed.

“W-wait a minute. Are you jealous?” Beomgyu sang teasingly, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You blinked, caught off guard by his teasing tone. “Maybe a little,” you admitted, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Should we break the news to them so my baby doesn’t get any more jealous than she already is?” Beomgyu teased.

“I don’t know,” you replied honestly, weighing your thoughts. “I considered telling them on the spot so they’d stop thinking it was someone else, but I also like keeping our relationship a little secret. It’s been fun sneaking around and hiding, but it’s also been really tiring to keep it from them.”

Beomgyu’s expression softened, his teasing demeanour giving way to a more serious look. “I get it. It hasn’t been easy for either of us. Look, we'll give it another month. Another month of it just being us. And then we’ll tell the guys.” 

—-

Taehyun sighed, throwing his bags on the floor. Another shitty day at work. He plopped down on the couch, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle into his bones. Grabbing the TV remote, he turned on a podcast he had subscribed to, hoping to unwind and distract himself.

As the podcast played, Taehyun's mood lightened slightly. The hosts were discussing a recent viral video, and the laughter in their voices was infectious. Curious, Taehyun searched for the video on his phone. 

Still grinning, Taehyun picked up the home phone to call Huening Kai, knowing his friend would appreciate the video. As he dialled the number, he heard a soft click on the line, indicating someone was already on the phone.

Pausing, Taehyun listened and quickly realized it was Beomgyu and you talking. His curiosity piqued, he couldn't help but eavesdrop.

“I missed you today,” Beomgyu’s voice came through, warm and affectionate.

“I missed you too,” you replied softly. “I just wanna say you looked good tonight.”

“Baby, you looked even better. I swear I almost tore your dre-”

“OH MY GOD.” Taehyun’s voice echoed through the phone, cutting off Beomgyu mid-sentence.

Beomgyu and you went silent on the other end, realizing Taehyun had overheard. Taehyun’s eyes widened in surprise, a mix of shock washing over him. He hastily put the phone off his ear, as if trying to physically distance himself from what he had just heard.

“OH MY GOD,” Taehyun repeated aloud, pacing nervously around the room.

Above, Beomgyu had been in the process of heading downstairs when he heard Taehyun's exclamation. Curiosity and concern drove him to rush down, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached his friend.

Before Taehyun could react further, Beomgyu leaped onto his back, surprising him completely. “Hey, give me that!” Beomgyu exclaimed, snatching the phone from Taehyun's hand.

Taehyun stumbled forward slightly under Beomgyu's sudden weight, but then turned to face him, wide-eyed. "THE TWO OF YOU…THE TWO OF YOU…"

Beomgyu's expression was a mix of panic and amusement as he glanced at the phone, then back at Taehyun. "I-I, uh, I…" he stammered, trying to come up with a plausible explanation.

Taehyun’s mind raced with questions and realization. “So, uh, are you two... like... a thing?” he asked cautiously, trying to process everything.

Beomgyu hesitated. Taking a deep breath, he nodded slowly. “Yeah, we are.”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Beomgyu pleaded urgently, his eyes pleading with Taehyun to understand. “Taehyun, you don’t understand. It’s been going so well, but we’re not ready to go public. The six of us have been friends for almost a decade. It’ll be weird to let you in on our private lives as a couple so soon. We promise we’ll work things out and announce it when the time is right.”

Taehyun furrowed his brow, processing the sudden revelation and Beomgyu’s earnest plea. He glanced at Beomgyu, sensing the gravity of the situation. “Okay,” he said finally, nodding slowly. “I get it. It’s your call.”

—-

It was supposed to be a simple weekend getaway, a secret escape from the hectic schedules and prying eyes of your friends. Beomgyu had suggested it, claiming a need for some alone time to recharge, and you eagerly agreed, relishing the idea of a romantic adventure away from the usual hangouts.

The plan was meticulous—or so you thought. You and Beomgyu would pretend to attend different school events in the same area, using it as a cover for your getaway. The rest of your friends believed the story, never suspecting a thing as you both slipped away for a few days of blissful anonymity.

The weekend had been perfect—long walks on the beach, lazy mornings in cozy cafes, and evenings spent stargazing under a blanket of twinkling lights. But as all good things do, it came to an end, and you found yourselves back at the guys’ apartment, trying to blend back into your usual routine.

On the way up to the guys’ apartment, you met Kai, who was juggling several bags of groceries. His face lit up when he saw you, and he adjusted the bags to free up a hand for a quick wave.

“How was your school trip?” Kai asked, a genuine curiosity in his eyes.

“It was fun. The strangest thing happened,” you said, your voice tinged with excitement.

“What?” Kai tilted his head, intrigued.

“On the trip, I met our old friend, y’know, Jungwon? Yeah. He looks so different now.”

“Oh, shit, the one who fell into the pond? That Jungwon?” Kai laughed, the memory clearly vivid in his mind.

“Yeah!” You chuckled, sharing in the nostalgia. “Did you get his number?”

“Yeah, I did! I’ll text it to you later.”

The two of you walked over to the door, Kai fumbled with his keys for a moment, the bags making the task slightly challenging. Once inside, the warmth and familiar scent of the apartment greeted you.

“Hey, guys! Look who I found,” Kai called out, his voice echoing through the apartment as he set the groceries down on the kitchen counter.

Soobin glanced up from his laptop, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Oh, hey! How was the trip?”

“Great!” You grinned. “I had like three workshops and all, but I wouldn’t wanna bore you with it.”

“What are the chances? You and Beomgyu having school trips at the same time? He just got home too,” Yeonjun chuckled.

“Hey, by the way, I saw your stories on Insta. Did you lose your sunglasses? The ones we just bought together?” Kai whined. “Bro, we were supposed to go to the beach with them next week.”

You nodded, sighing. “You don’t think I’m bummed? I’m the one who lost them!”

“Must suck to be you though,” Taehyun said with a smirk.

You glared at him. “Don’t be an ass.”

Soobin served you a plate of pancakes, the sweet aroma filling the room. “Here.”

You grinned, taking the plate. “Thanks!”

As you settled in, Beomgyu descended the stairs, making eye contact with you before smiling widely. “You look pretty,” he mouthed.

You smiled sweetly, quickly turning away to avoid any further suspicion. “Hey! You just got back from your trip?” Beomgyu asked, joining the conversation with a friendly smile.

You nodded. “Yep.”

“Anyway, now that you’re back, Beomgyu, can I please have my Switch back?” Kai begged, his tone light but earnest.

Beomgyu chuckled, reaching into his bag and pulling out the game console. “Yeah, yeah, here you go. I didn’t scratch it, promise.”

Kai snatched it up, relief evident on his face. “Thanks, man. I’ve been dying to play the new game I got.”

“So, how was your trip?” Soobin asked.

Beomgyu shrugged nonchalantly. “Pretty good. Lots of sightseeing and some downtime. Oh right! You wouldn’t guess who I saw!”

“Who?” Yeonjun asked.

“Jungwon!” Beomgyu exclaimed.

“The kid who fell in the pond?”

You shook your head, mouthing to Beomgyu to keep his mouth shut. Kai looked at the two of you, his eyes widening in realization.

“YOU!” he yelled, pointing at you.

“I HAVE SOUVENIRS FOR EVERYBODY! You first, Kai!” Beomgyu yelled, quickly pulling Kai upstairs. You followed suit, running after the two of them.

“What’s up with them?” Soobin said, his eyes still glued to his laptop.

“Beomgyu probably broke his Switch or something,” Yeonjun chuckled.

Upstairs, you caught up with Beomgyu and Kai in Beomgyu's room.

“Well, well, well… so the two of you have been playing us all this time…” Kai sneered, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

You and Beomgyu exchanged nervous glances. “What are you talking about?” Beomgyu asked, trying to play it cool.

Kai's eyes narrowed. “Don't play dumb. I saw the way you two were acting. You've been sneaking around behind our backs, haven’t you? How’s it possible the two of you met Jungwon then? Two different school events, with supposedly, two different locations.”

You sighed, realizing the jig was up. “Okay, fine. We were on a trip together, and we’ve been dating for a while now.”

“And you didn’t care to tell any of us!” Kai interrupted, his voice rising in frustration.

Beomgyu stepped forward, his expression earnest. “We weren’t sure how everyone would react. We wanted some time alone to figure things out.”

Kai's stern expression softened slightly before being replaced by a look of disgust. “I get it. We’ve been friends for almost ten years. It’ll be kind of weird to see the two of you kiss.”

You nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “We wanted to. We really did but… I don’t know, we just got scared.”

Kai sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You do know we’ll be happy for you either way, right?”

Beomgyu sighed, “We know. We’ll tell everyone soon enough.”

“Promise?”

“Well, technically, it’s just Soobin and Yeonjun. Tae already knows.”

“BEFORE ME?!” Kai exclaimed, his voice a mix of shock and mock indignation.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. “Yeah, it kind of just happened that way. We told him by accident. It’s a long story.”

Kai crossed his arms, pouting. “Fine, but you both owe me big time. And I better not find out anyone else knows before me.”

Beomgyu chuckled, relieved. “It’s just the two of you. We promise.”

“Also about that souvenir…” Kai started, his expression teasing.

“We actually didn’t get you anything,” Beomgyu admitted sheepishly.

“You need a little more than ‘please’ and ‘thank yous’ to keep my mouth shut,” Kai deadpanned, though a hint of amusement danced in his eyes.

With the tension eased, the three of you headed back downstairs. Kai proudly held up a new game console Beomgyu had originally bought for himself, showing it off to the others. “Look what Beomgyu got me!”

Beomgyu sighed, faking a smile. “Thanks for being such a great friend, man.”

“You’re very welcome,” Kai chuckled, a playful edge to his tone.

—

“Hey. I heard you know something I do.” Huening Kai grinned at Taehyun.

“What?” 

“C’mon. We both know tweedle dee and tweedle dum are dating, don’t we?” 

Taehyun nodded, “It’s been a little tiring to keep this secret. I wish they’d just tell the others already.”

“Well, that’s what I wanted to speak with you about. A little plan.”

Taehyun and Kai exchanged mischievous glances, a silent understanding passing between them as they hatched a plan.

“I’ve got an idea,” Kai whispered, leaning in closer to Taehyun. 

—

"Why am I doing this again?" Yeonjun muttered into his tiny earpiece, looking slightly perplexed as he adjusted his stance discreetly.

Yeonjun stood at the edge of the cafe, adjusting his earpiece nervously while keeping an eye on you and Beomgyu at a corner table. Taehyun and Kai sat nearby, exchanging secretive glances as they awaited the cue to set their plan in motion.

“You’re doing this because we need to get Beomgyu to admit he’s dating her,” Taehyun’s voice crackled through Yeonjun’s earpiece.

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, though a small grin played on his lips. “And why do I have to be the one flirting with her?”

“Because you’re the smoothest talker we’ve got,” Kai chimed in.

“And because Soobin’s at work.” Taehyun added with a hint of mischief.

Yeonjun sighed. “Fine, but if this backfires, I’m blaming both of you.”

As he approached your table, Yeonjun put on his most charming smile, a plan forming in his mind. He casually leaned against the back of an empty chair beside you, catching your attention with a friendly nod.

“Hey,” Yeonjun greeted smoothly, his eyes flickering mischievously towards Beomgyu. "What's up?"

Meanwhile, Taehyun and Kai watched from their table, barely containing their excitement as they waited.

“Hey?” You scratched your head, “What do you want?” 

Yeonjun chuckled softly, his demeanour relaxed yet subtly teasing. "Just thought I'd join the party," he replied casually, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he glanced at Beomgyu.

Taehyun and Kai exchanged quick glances, trying to suppress their grins as they observed the unfolding scene.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you looked in pink?” He nodded in your direction and gestured to your dress.

“No?” You frowned, “Are you okay? A-are you drunk? At 12? In the afternoon?”

Yeonjun chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, just appreciating the finer things in life, like you, uh, fashion sense." He leaned casually against the table, his smile widening as he saw Beomgyu's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“My fashion sense?” You asked, an eyebrow raised.

Yeonjun's comment made you chuckle nervously, unsure of where this playful banter was leading. Meanwhile, Beomgyu's eyebrows furrowed slightly, a subtle flicker of jealousy crossing his features as he glanced between Yeonjun and you.

"Yeah, well, fashion appreciation aside," Beomgyu interjected casually, trying to mask his unease with a nonchalant tone, "aren’t you supposed to be working right now?"

Taehyun and Kai exchanged a knowing glance, detecting the hint of tension in Beomgyu's voice. They exchanged silent cues, silently egging Yeonjun on while watching Beomgyu's reaction with barely contained amusement.

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, playing along with a teasing grin. "Of course, I am. I just had to make my way over to compliment her style! You can't blame a guy for noticing good style especially on a pretty girl, can you?"

You glanced nervously at Beomgyu, sensing his slight discomfort but unsure how to defuse the situation. "Are you okay? Are you being threatened right now? Are there cameras?"

Taehyun leaned closer to Kai, whispering under his breath, " This might just work."

Kai nodded with a mischievous grin, fully enjoying the unfolding drama. He kept his eyes on Beomgyu, waiting to see how he would handle the unexpected attention directed at you by Yeonjun.

Yeonjun leaned in slightly closer, his smile widening as he maintained eye contact with you. "Maybe I should take some fashion tips from you sometime. You seem to have a knack for making even the simplest things look good."

Beomgyu's jaw tensed, his gaze narrowing at Yeonjun's playful flirting. He shifted in his seat, a subtle sign of his growing discomfort with the situation.

"You're laying it on pretty thick there, buddy," Beomgyu remarked, his voice betraying a hint of irritation beneath the playful tone.

Taehyun and Kai exchanged excited glances, barely containing their amusement as they watched Beomgyu's jealousy simmering just below the surface. They were about to witness the culmination of their plan when suddenly, the cafe door swung open.

"Soobin!" Kai blurted out, disappointment evident in his voice.

Soobin strode into the cafe, his gaze sweeping over the scene with a quizzical expression. "What's going on here? Why hasn’t anyone ordered anything?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he approached the table.

Soobin glanced between them, sensing the underlying tension but deciding not to press further. "Right, well, I'm starving. Anyone up to share some muffins with me?”

Kai and Taehyun sighed, their plan to coax Beomgyu into admitting his relationship with you temporarily thwarted by Soobin's timely interruption. 

—

“He was so flirting with you.” Beomgyu sighed.

"I think he was just teasing me," you tried to defend Yeonjun, although it did seem kind of weird that he acted like that out of nowhere..

Beomgyu shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his brows furrowing slightly. "Teasing, huh?" He muttered, his tone betraying a hint of disbelief. "Sure seemed like more than that."

You glanced at him, noting the tension in his expression. "I’m sure it’s not like that," you reassured him gently, reaching out to touch his arm. "Yeonjun's just being Yeonjun."

"I know, I know," Beomgyu replied, trying to mask his unease with a forced smile. "It's just... weird, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it," you nodded sympathetically, withdrawing your hand. 

"Unless, they know about us and are just teasing us about it.”

"I doubt Taehyun and Kai would tell Yeonjun. Right?" you said, voicing your uncertainty.

Beomgyu's expression softened slightly as he considered your words. "Yeah, you're probably right. They wouldn't do that."

"So, let's not overthink it," you suggested, hoping to ease his worries. "We've been doing fine keeping it a little secret."

Beomgyu nodded, a small smile returning to his face. "I guess."

“Just a little while longer together. And we’ll tell them.” You said.

“As long as I have you all to myself.”

—-

"This is getting sort of ridiculous, no?" Beomgyu sighed, taking deep breaths. His brows furrowed in frustration, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Weren't you the one who suggested this?" You rolled your eyes, your grip on Beomgyu's shoulders tightening. You straddled his thighs, your body pressed intimately close in the cramped photobooth.

All you wanted was a little bit of light intimacy—a cute photoshoot session without being interrupted by your unsuspecting friends. Unfortunately, your friends, who were usually late, arrived earlier than expected.

"You said they'd be like 20 minutes late. They're 10 minutes early!" You whispered angrily, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

"I wasn't the one giving flirty glances, so technically this is your fault." Beomgyu turned to face you, a frown on his face. God, he was handsome. You couldn't even stay mad. He was perfect. Little did you know, Beomgyu was thinking the exact same thing.

The two of you spent a moment just looking at each other with loving eyes, the tension melting away. He placed a chaste kiss on your lips, his touch tender and reassuring. "We do need to figure out how we're gonna explain to them why we're in here."

"We could just say we were taking pictures while waiting for them."

"Yeonjun’s gonna ask for the photos. Should we show the ones where I have my tongue shoved down your throat or the one where you kiss my cheek?" Beomgyu spoke sarcastically, a playful glint in his eyes.

"I'm trying my best!" you huffed, frustration mixed with affection as you stared at him.

Beomgyu chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. "I know you are," he said, his tone gentle and understanding. He shifted slightly, causing the photobooth to creak under your combined weight. "Maybe we should just sneak out and pretend like nothing happened."

You nodded, the idea sounding more appealing by the second. But just as you were about to suggest it, you heard the unmistakable sound of Kai's voice, loud and clear right outside the booth.

"Hey, didn’t Beomgyu say they’ve both arrived?" Kai's voice was tinged with curiosity and confusion. You froze, your heart pounding even harder. 

“Maybe he’s over here!” Taehyun’s voice bellowed through the empty arcade.

Beomgyu quickly brought a finger to his lips, signalling you to stay quiet. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Stay calm. We'll figure this out."

You nodded again, trying to steady your breathing. The photobooth felt even smaller now, the walls pressing in on you as you listened to the conversation outside.

"They told me they were here a minute ago," another voice chimed in. Taehyun, always the observant one. "Maybe they went to get some snacks or something."

"Or maybe they're in the photo booth," Kai suggested, his tone teasing. 

You exchanged a panicked glance with Beomgyu, both of you realizing that your hiding spot was about to be discovered. Without thinking, you pressed your lips to his, muffling the surprised sound he made. It was a desperate attempt to distract both of you from the impending confrontation.

The curtain to the photobooth suddenly flew open, and there stood Kai, the look of amusement on his face. "Well, well, well," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "What do we have here?"

Just then, Yeonjun grinned and slipped his arm across your shoulders, adding to the chaos. 

“Uh, just taking some photos.” You tried explaining.

"Can I have a picture with you next?" he teased.

Beomgyu shoved Yeonjun's arm off, a glare in his eyes. "In your dreams, grandpa."

Soobin, standing behind Kai, grinned as well. "So… what’s this all about?"

"It’s... uh…" Beomgyu stammered, clearly at a loss for words.

"We’re not dating," you managed to blurt out, your voice shaky with panic.

Kai raised an eyebrow, "Okay, and we’re supposed to believe you because... you’re straddled on his legs and when we opened the curtain, you were making out?" 

Taehyun added, teasing the two of you, "You’re not making any sense."

Kai was the first to break the silence, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Guys, cut the surprised looks, it’s as obvious as daylight. Taehyun and I can’t keep up with this anymore.”

Soobin gasped, “The two of you knew?!”

“Well, I do too.” Yeonjun smirked. 

“What?!”

“Did you really think I’d flirt with you so brazenly? That’s so not me.” Yeonjun explained.

“Wait. So I’m the only one who didn’t know?” Soobin sighed, “Sure, keep me in the dark. The only person who can keep secrets.”

“You told everyone I had a binky till 11. I told you that in confidence!” Kai retaliated.

Soobin chuckled, “Sorry, dude. I just had to tell someone.”

Beomgyu sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. We’re dating. We’ve been dating for like... six months now."

"Six months?!" the four exclaimed in unison, their eyes wide with shock.

"Right under our noses?" Kai whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

"Don’t tell me... all those times you were up in Gyu’s room helping him with his ‘thesis’," Yeonjun said, his face scrunching up in mock disgust.

The two of you nodded slowly. "Sometimes I was," you admitted, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Wait, so all those times Beomgyu was on the phone saying ‘I love you, pretty princess,’ that wasn’t for his mom?" Soobin gasped, his eyes wide with realization.

"You heard that?" Beomgyu's cheeks turned a deep shade of pink, embarrassment clear on his face.

Soobin nodded vigorously. "Yeah, I thought it was weird, but I didn’t want to say anything."

“Well, I’m happy for you guys-ish. I still hate that I was the last to find out.” Soobin sighed.

Beomgyu interjected with a sympathetic smile, patting Soobin's shoulder gently. "It wasn't intentional. We wanted to tell you guys, but we just wanted to make sure we were solid before making it public. We didn’t really want to risk messing up the dynamics of our friendship. And besides, Kai and Taehyun found out by accident."

“We get it. It’s fine," Soobin reassured them, his tone lighter. "If anything, we’re really glad it’s the two of you."

"Yeah and if it makes you feel better," you added, trying to lighten the mood. "You were the last to find out, but now you're first in line to grill us with questions about our relationship!"

Soobin chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Fair enough. So, spill it—how did this all start? And don't leave out any details!"

“This is…gonna take awhile, isn’t it?” Taehyun sighed, “I’ll go order the food.” 

[aaagustd]

after hours | jjk (coming soon)

"Do you always drive this fast?"

pairing: jeon jungkook x (f)reader genre/rating: smut; oneshot; 18+ teaser warnings: just language, lusting, and jimin... oh boy lol, unedited bc i literally just copied and pasted from the rough draft sorry (i hope it's good); wc: 0.3k

**more details will be revealed randomly and/or during fic release. divider credit.

🩵to join the taglist just comment or send an ask🩵

“So let me get this straight…”

Jimin’s mouth hasn’t stopped moving since his ass dropped on the VIP section’s leather couch. His antics only amply Jungkook’s stress levels. 

He sits on the edge of his seat, staying ready so he doesn’t have to get ready. In this setting, you never know when things will get active. It’s important to be attentive, staying focused keeps you alive out here, but it’s nearly impossible when there are so many…

Distractions.

“She's almost on her knees begging to fuck and you're over here drooling with the rest of us? The fuck is wrong with you-”

“Can you shut the fuck up?” Jungkook snaps.

Jimin jolts out of his seat, finally giving Jungkook some room to breathe. The loud music and humidity in the overcapacitated nightclub already have him suffocating. How the fuck is he supposed to unwind when he’s got a nuisance in his ear and a boner in his pants.

This is his spot—has been since it opened. He’s seen women come and go. There’s never been a connection, no thoughts or interest; on his part. His lifestyle leaves him little time for himself. Wasting his downtime chasing pussy seems like stupidity the way he sees it. 

So you can look over here a million times—roll your hips, twirl your hair, bite those pretty lips… Trace the hem of that tiny fucking dress. No matter how fun you are to look at you’ll never get what you’re looking for out of him. In a minute, it’ll all be over; as the end of the night is near. He’ll do what he came here to do, and you’ll make a dash for the exit. That’s the end of this story.

Jungkook has 99 things on his mind, and you’ll never be one of them.

[drgnflyteabox]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ masterlist ‧₊˚✩彡

-> general writing tag

-> general disclaimer: i usually write fem readers, neutral (please hmu if i ever miss!) in everything outside of usually being fem

simon "ghost" riley

can't get much better [oneshot]

↪ simon is forced to take some time off - he makes the most of it

the lusty cabin-dweller [oneshot]

↪ your life gets wider when you find an injured man outside of your cabin

johnny "soap" mactavish

something to remember you by [oneshot]

↪ your boyfriend wants some memorabilia of you to take on his deployments. only, he wants his superior officer to take the photos

kyle "gaz" garrick

postcards from the coast [[series] ongoing]

↪ or, kyle garrick is prescribed a year by the sea to cure his melancholia

john price

lament [[series] ongoing]

↪ as you recover from prolonged illness, you meet a man on a hike in the woods just as strange things begin happening around you

kate laswell

happy wife happy life

↪ kate comes home: you help her unwind

141 x reader

red ochre [[series] ongoing]

↪ you become the unlikely treasure of two vikings who raid your convent looking for gold

drabbles (various);

gaz comes home desperate for this mean office siren gf<3↪ or, a drabble about coy reader making gaz work for it a little ;)

dirty ruffian western!ghost↪ i need dirty farmhand simon so bad

cashier!reader 1 | 2 |

best friends younger brother johnny corners you in her living room↪ he's nasty

laswell comforts gn!reader <3 ↪ you suffer from OCD