#yes this is both hiccups and omo

[doginasillyhat]

if i had a nickel for every time i got into a franchise that becomes a deep part of my identity and my comfort because of fan creations to do with kink i’d have two nickels. which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice

[mrs-han]

Hello!!! It’s Lea!!! I like to do weekly self ship questions and I’d like to include you if you’d like! If not please ignore this 😃 Happy Monday!!! Hope you’re week started well?? It’s that time again!!! What was your first kiss with Jumin like?? Enjoy!!! ♥️

Hey, Lea!! You’re so sweet, the week is starting off wonderfully! How is yours!

....

Omo... my first real kiss with Jumin...

I imagine the moments proceeding it being... drawn out. In a beautiful way.

I imagine him... trying to convince me to go out with him that day, but I insist our date be indoors... and he obliges by saying, “Your place or mine, little vixen?”

I say my place; a place of familiarity and comfort. A place where he, too, can feel at home. And he agrees to meet me in exactly thirty-three minutes. Where I frantically rush to make sure things are... relatively clean.

I imagine opening the door five seconds before he’s able to knock... and he smiles at me. Entirely serious, he would say, “You couldn’t wait for me, could you?”

And entirely serious, I would reply, “No. No, I couldn’t.”

I imagine him blushing over the contrast of our clothes. While he’s ever the dapper gentleman, pressed suit and tie... there I am. High-waisted leggings, an overly large t-shirt, and bare feet. He takes off his shoes and places them politely by the door. I, afraid he’s feeling stiff and awkward, grab his hand. To soothe him, to calm him. To welcome him into my world.

I joke, “I warned you this would be an indoor date!” And he raises a brow, shrugging off his jacket and unbuttoning the first three buttons from his shirt

“Better?” His voice lifts.

“Much!” I chirp.

I imagine me, awkwardly suggesting what we should do. Movies, take-out, casual conversation... and he can tell I’m nervous. He can tell that dates aren’t a normal occurrence for me. So he takes my hand and guides me to the couch — an action he does so elegantly and with so much familiarity, you would think the place belonged to him.

I imagine him speaking to me softly about how he’s been looking forward to spending this time with me. But he doesn’t want to make me uncomfortable, nor does he want me to shy away from him. So, he looks around the room, examining from my pictures on the walls what my interests are.

He spots a portrait of Marie Antoinette... and he huffs. “Can you believe Zen referred to Elizabeth the Third as Marie Antoinette?”

And from there, I imagine myself rambling endlessly about the last Queen of France. He listens intently, a finger on his chin, as I rant and rave about how dear the Queen has become to me over the years. And he contributes with a few snippets of knowledge that are his own.

I imagine him promising to take me to Marie’s Hamaeu one day, while I go about setting out glasses of wine and Oreo cookies. He scolds me with a tsk of his tongue, saying, “We need food before we stuff ourselves with cookies.”

My uncultured pallet suggests KFC, or loaves from Moonbucks. He stares at me incredulously before whipping his phone out to call his chef.

While we wait, I imagine us talking more. His curiosities are rooted in what I’m interested in, while my curiosities are rooted in his emotions. How is he feeling in this moment? Is he bored? Is he tired? What does he want? What does he need?

I imagine his chef showing up with top-notch ingredients in his hands, and Jumin and I greet him briefly before going back to our conversation, which has now shifted to places we have yet to travel to. I notice Jumin soften and see that he is more at ease, which then allows me to show more of silly, exuberant self.

As soon as dinner is ready, the chef quickly and quietly disappears, as Jumin informs him that we will be eating cookies for dessert. The meal consists of a light pho, the heat from the broth steaming up my glasses. Jumin reaches over, chuckling as he removes and wipes my glasses with his handkerchief, as I joke that he looks like a “magnificent blob.”

He reaches over to put my glasses back on, and for a moment, we lock eyes. Jumin’s soft expression suddenly turns determined, and after he places my glasses over my eyes, his thumb lightly brushes my cheek.

I imagine myself shiver, not out disgust or disdain... but out of yearning. Yearning to feel his touch again. For never had I felt a sensation so electrifying, so addicting, by one touch alone.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Jumin speaks softly, a grin on his lips as his thumb trails down my chin.

I imagine myself grabbing his hand in an eager attempt to keep it where it is. This elicits a chuckle from him. “Do you like my hand on your face? My palm fits your cheek perfectly.”

I imagine him subconsciously moving closer to me and I to him. Words escape me, but he makes up for it with his warm, kind movements. His thumb strokes my heated skin and I grab his wrist and forearm, pressing my face against his hand.

“Thank you for coming over,” I imagine myself uttering, pupils dilating.

Jumin presses himself closer to me... and whispers, “May I... kiss you?”

“Yes,” I hiccup, my zest making my voice tremble and jolt.

Without hesitation, I imagine Jumin leaning in and pressing his soft, supple lips against my own. I imagine myself responding to his kiss with a slight moan, inviting him to possess my lips and make them his own. I imagine... hehe. I imagine him grabbing the back of my head, curling his fingers around my hair to deepen the already wild and crazed emotions. I imagine placing my hands on his cheeks, pulling him close to my inviting body. I imagine Jumin responding by pressing himself closer, closer to me, in an effort to make our bodies become one... not through sexual means.

I imagine both of us eventually pulling away, breathless, smiles on both our lips... the pho no longer the only steaming thing in the room.

OuO

[nepitamnunmurl]

yoonseok bit #2

Hey guys! Another bit for you! This one is completely unrelated to the first one. Summary:  It took Hoseok five minutes alone in his room for him to know it wasn't gonna happen. He wasn't sleeping alone. Not today.

Read it also on AO3

Enjoy!

00:12am

Hoseok hovers on the hotel corridor, pacing out of nervousness and so the lights won't go out. In his back and forth he passes the members' doors. Stops. Looks. Sighs. Resumes pacing.

He shouldnt have let his date talk him into watching that scary movie. Why had he broken the promise he'd made to himself over 10 years ago when his noona made him watch 'The Ring' and he'd peed his pants during the night? No scary movies ever again.

Why did he betray himself like this? Sure, Ji Sung was incredibly attracrive and Hobi was super excited when the boy he'd been eyeing since last award season showed interest in him, especially considering it's really hard to find other gay men who are actually willing to act upon their sexualities in the Korean idol world.

But this was no excuse! He was supposed to have learned how to use the word "no" by now right?

I spent all that time teaching you when we were rookies and because of one pretty boy you forget everything you've learned? Yoongi hyung's voice says in his mind.

The light suddenly goes out in the corridor and Hoseok jumps, letting out a small noise. A mixture of fear and guilt spread through the back of his neck and he can feel the hairs in his arms standing up one by one. He moves quickly to remind the light he's still there.

I'm so stupid. Damn. If he was back in the dorm, it would be alright. He wouldn't even have to ask for company to distract from memories of bloody faces and lost limbs and all those jump scares. Back in the dorm, besides having the company of his lively dongsaengs, Jimin and Taehyungie, Jungkook would end up climbing in his bed at some point before he fell asleep anyway.

Things are different when they're on tour. On tour is when they get precious time off from the constant company of each other. And it's good. Necessary, even. He doesn't mind it at all. Except for now. Now he's regretting all of his life choices.

It took Hoseok five minutes alone in his room for him to know it wasn't gonna happen. He wasn't sleeping alone. Not today.

Except, it'd been probably about twenty minutes since he gathered up the courage to leave his room to go knock on somebody's door. He just hadn't had the guts to actually knock yet. It's not that he was ashamed of being scared. It's just that he knew there'd be questions. And he was just as afraid of the questions as he was of the dead lady in the movie.

He wasn't in the mood for explaining where he'd been and who he'd been with. Sejin-hyung had come along, discreetly, so that there wouldn't be any talk in the media. So that it'd be like just an outing with a friend who happened to be in the same country during their schedules. It was kind of the truth. He also knew that the members didn't mind. In fact, he could talk openly about boys and being gay with them - it wasn't a big deal. It wasn't the problem at all.

The problem was that today Hoseok felt silly. He hated feeling silly. Unless it was for fun, in front of ARMYs and on purpose, because he decided to act like it. Not when a situation made him feel like it was beyond his control. He felt kind of humiliated. He'd always thought of himself as strongminded person. Ever since he'd debuted he knew exactly who he was and who he wanted to be.

He'd just compromised his intergrity for a boy. And now he couldn't sleep. He couldn't face anyone.

So he was stuck. Stuck in a long corridor that was terrifying in and of itself and he couldn't go back to his room where a much more terrifying thing awaited. Silence.

Get your shit together, Seok-ah. His inner Yoongi-hyung voice said. Yoongi-hyung. Why was his voice inside Hoseok's mind like the voice of reason? And why hadn't that voice spoken up when he needed it to?

Actually, he knows why. Suga was being extra prickly during a group interview they had earlier. But only towards him. Hoseok got mad. Yoongi-hyung almost never acted prickly towards him. To everybody else, yes. Hoseok was special. Or he thought he was. He seeked him out to confront him about it after their schedule, but hyung had ridden a different van from his and when they got to the hotel he was nowhere to be seen.

So Hoseok decided to forget about him. And shut his voice out. He had a date with a cute guy! Yoongi-hyung shouldn't matter at a time like that! So he put on his tightest pants and his best perfume and happily set out to the theater and, unknowingly, to one of the worst nights of his life.

Now, though, the boy thinks Yoongi-hyung was probably mad at him in advance. Like he'd somehow predicted Hoseok was going to be an idiot.

The light goes out again. This time Hoseok screams. Right after he moves to get the light, however, a door opens. He screams again.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Yoongi-hyung. Great. The last person he wanted to encounter.

"Are you crying?"

Damn. Was he? Probably. He was paralyzed from fear.

Blink.

Blink.

"Seok-ah. Did that guy do anything to you?"

What?

"What are you talking about, hyung?" Hoseok hiccups.

"Didn't you have a date tonight? Why are you crying?"

Blink.

Blink again.

"Hyung!" Hoseok bursts out in loud sobs.

Yoongi looks alarmed for one second, then steps out into the corridor and proceeds to thoughtfully steer Hoseok into his room so the other members don't wake up and a pandemonium starts. He shuts the door, goes to the minifridge, grabs a bottle of water, pours it into a glass, gives it to Hoseok and says with a serious and low voice:

"What did he do to you?"

The tone of Yoongi's voice takes Hoseok out of his crying attack and he starts babbling.

"Oh my god, hyung. No. He didn't do anything bad to me. He just insisted we see a horror movie. And I told him I didn't like it, but he asked me like two more times. And I don't know why I couldn't say no. Then all of a sudden I was sitting in that dark room watching a bloody ghost lady go around scaring people and I came back and Sejin-hyung left me at my room but I couldn't stay there because I was so afraid and I wanted to sleep in somebody else's room, but I was too embarrassed because I couldn't say no to him and I know that you're going to say I'm stupid and give me a lecture, I'll accept and I'll agree, but can you please let me sleep here tonight?"

Blink.

Yoongi walks into the bathroom and comes back with a toilet paper roll in his hand. Goes to his suitcase and grabs his long black shirt from Heich Bleide that Hoseok likes and then hands both items to the younger boy.

"Dry your tears, wash up and then come to bed"

Hoseok's heart feels a little bit warmer. He does what Yoongi tells him, although he has to wash with the door open because what if a water ghost comes to kill him? After he's done, he treads softly back to the room to find Yoongi resting on top of the covers with his eyes closed. He looks soft and cuddly. Hoseok gets the impulse to dive into bed and press his nose into his hyung's neckline.

Huh.

"Aren't you coming?" Hoseok jumps. Yoongi keeps his eyes closed.

"Hyung! Don't scare me!"

Yoongi chooses to ignore him and lifts the bedsheets to get under them. He folds the comforter on the side next to him and taps the bed, motioning for Hoseok to climb on.

"Get the lights"

The younger shuts off the lights, momentarily forgetting about his fear and yelps when he becomes aware of the darkness. He rushes to get in bed, but miscalculates the shape of it and falls half on top of Yoongi.

"Oof"

"Omo! Sorry, hyung!"

Hoseok rushes to get off, but Yoongi's arms tighten around him to keep him in place. He adjusts their limbs into a comfortable position and Hoseok can't see anything, but he thinks his nose might be close to his hyung's neck. He can smell soap and the detergent they use back at the dorm. The thought of being so close makes him blush.

"Hyung"

"Hmm?" Yoongi murmurs sleepily.

"How did you know I was on a date?"

His hyung stays silent for so long Hoseok thinks he might've fallen asleep. Then:

"I overead one of your texts earlier when we were doing makeup. By accident. Sorry"

"Oh. That's ok, I guess"

"Sorry" Soft breathing. "Hyung. Why were you mad at me today?"

A beat of silence longer than the last overcomes them and Hoseok's sure Yoongi's asleep now. But

"Seok-ah. Next time you want to go see a movie, hyung'll take you. We'll watch a very stupid romantic comedy"

Hoseok's heart skips a beat. He's sure that it's because Yoongi spoke out of nowhere when he was supposed to already be asleep. It starts beating faster when his hyung surprises him by softly caressing the back of his head and his hair.

"Alright?"

Hoseok's heart is beating madly now. He relaxes under Yoongi's touch and his nose touches the elder's skin. His neck is warm and the scent calms him. He feels like nothing could ever scare him right here and now. He sighs softly.

"Alright, hyung"