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#i am very well aware i do *not* have the capability to do much else *besides* read

simpjaes · 2 months

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hi i just stalked the crap our of your page and HOLY CRAPTHIS IS MY NEW GUILTY PLEASURE

can i req seeing how enha hyung line would take care of you after railing you soooooo hard????

hyung line + aftercare after very intense sex

warning: uh....painful sex, fainting, dissociation, anal, implied squirting, degradation, idk just a lot of intense sex stuff ig

note: it's a lil messy, i've been running errands all day and am using this to push myself back into the writing brain :D

★ heeseung:

what i wanna say is that depending on the circumstances, he'd probably throw a towel at your head and walk away to shower alone but we all know heeseung is so much more than a careless fuck boy for the most part. in my opinion, if he's got you where he wants you and he's allowed to fuck you as hard as he can, rendering you faint, dizzy, and almost dissociated, he either has some sort of feelings for you, you're someone else's girlfriend and he wants you to like him more, or you're already in a committed relationship lmfao

and you know, you thought that after he managed to pull three orgasms out of you, fucked all three of your holes, and managed to get you all twisted up for him to cum in places he definitely isn't supposed to, you really thought he was done.

but then he chuckles, taking one look at you once his own mind clears from his orgasm and it's like...how could he not just continue to fuck you? you look so pretty already fucked open, lying there with tears in your eyes and shaking?

you'd hear something akin to "you're gonna take a bit more, open those eyes back up for me," and "i can tell you can take it, just keep your eyes on me."

it's kind of pathetic, actually, how you really do just lay there and take it until he says you're finished.

so, yeah, when you're with someone like heeseung, there's always a thought in your head about if he'll even take care of you at all after the fact. at least, the thought is there before he breaks your brain. even if every time before this where he's needed to bring you back, he has without question and with a voice from him that is always so rare to hear.

just kinda hard to imagine someone who fucks you near to the brink of passing out, sometimes actually passing out, finding it within themselves to take care of you as deeply as they fuck you, yknow?

but, time and time again he has to remind you that he's not only capable but willing to make sure you're well taken care of. after all, you do your part in taking it, so he'll do his part in giving you what you need too. only after scooping half the mess with his fingers and feeding it to you, of course.

after that though? he's very much hauling you off for a warm shower and tenderly washing you. very very gentle with his hands, knowing how sensitive your holes are. he'd compliment you, he'd praise you for letting him absolutely destroy that ass, and ultimately, lay you to sleep next to him regardless of what the relationship status is, making sure you're well aware that he's not just using you for pleasure. he's very much appreciative of what you bring to his bedroom, and there's no reason to pretend he isn't.

☆ jay:

i like to think that jay would have you in fucking pain and barely able to stand on your own two feet by the time he allows you to close your legs with deep groans as you try to catch your breath.

honestly, the stamina this man has and actively spends on you could render anyone immobile for at least a week with the way he snaps his hips and holds you down from wiggling away in sensitivity. and man, the things he'd fucking say to you through it. so degrading, so controlling and dismissive, entirely fucking insulting. you're shocked time and time again that even while knowing it's just sex talk, it still hurts your feelings every single time.

then again, he's aware of that. but you're so goddamn pretty when you're crying and moaning, it drives him insane to know you endure it for his pleasure.

you're soaked by the time it's over and done with, he's soaked, and honestly the swollen marks against your ass still burn intensely when he rolls you over on your belly to get a good look at his work.

always with a breathy "aw, baby, i really fucked you up this time, huh?" or a little "took it so well, you still can't even focus your eyes on me, can you?" before rubbing any and every pained mark he left on you.

after his own brain clears of the sex-fog, he'd wrap you up, really warm and tightly in his arms as if his hug would wipe away any of the spit and cum drying between your bodies, as if it could mask all of those insults he flung at you. still, he'd be fluttering hundreds of kisses against your neck and ears, whispering little compliments about how pretty you are when you're barely able to keep your eyes open, about how much he adores you, and how often he wishes you'd believe these words over the silly orgasm-fueled insults.

still whispering, throughout the entire session of his care after the fact. always loving that you let him harm you as long as he's healing you just as good. and he does, truly, with the back rubs and the showers, tons upon tons of sweet kisses. constant praise. he'd put your lotion on you and rub it in thoughtfully, occasionally some medicated cream if his fingernails dug in a little too deep.

always always always holds you against his chest when you drift off to sleep, making sure any pain in your body feels more like love than anything else, and promising time and time again that he'll make sure you always fall asleep knowing he loves you, and that he doesn't at all think you're a fuck-doll, that he wouldn't let his friends have their turn way you.

(i am madly in love with him, pls look away and stop thinking of him now thank u)

★sunghoon:

ah, sunghoon. yeah. sunghoon. this man would leave you a fucking mess of tears and drool, edging you for hours. hell, he edges you for fucking days just because he can. not at all because you've been bad, or a brat, or have managed to make him jealous.

this is one of those days. you could tell he came home with that look in his eye, grabbing your face and practically forcing you to lift on your toes just so he could whisper the planned torture against your tongue.

so, after the second day with you whining, fucking begging to be released from your prison of sensitivity and lust, maybe he gives it to you. maybe he wakes you up from a deep and much needed sleep with fingers harshly pinching your clit.

ah, the pain. that alone was enough to make you cum, and you did. unfortunately, he didn't like that very much so your new torture was to get off as many times as he expected you to.

after about, what, the seventh orgasm? you stopped counting, it was closer to eleven in the afternoon and he'd been giving it to you for hours, all over that little mishap.

an eight orgasm knocked your ass out, exhausted, spread out, fucked senseless. you could barely hold your head up, but he does it for you. first by your hair, but noting the look in your eye indicating that he really needs to stop by this point.

and sunghoon is the type that would stop at that point. something in his brain clicking and forcing him back into that perfect boyfriend persona, where the only thing in the world he wants to do is make you happy.

and he knows it's not that you're not happy right now, it's mostly just the fact that he thinks he broke you're brain and you forgot how to feel anything other than his cock ramming inside of you.

so, he'd remind you time and time again. how his hands can do so much more than choke you, and how his lips can be sweet and less bruising against your temple when you really need it. you'd feel entirely loved when he's taking care of the mess he caused. both physically and mentally for you. needing to bring you back to reality with soft touches and tight holds.

it worked every time, because by the next morning, you'd just be moaning and groaning about how if he hadn't of make you breakfast in bed, you may have very well slashed his tires for the amount of suffering he put you through.

☆ jake:

bro is taking care of you not only after sex, but the entire time during sex. there's not a single moment where he's intentionally trying to hurt you, or forcing you to take more than you can handle.

it just....kind of happens on nights like these. where his hands are clinging, and his throat is begging, and your body can't say no. with his pretty puppy dog eyes asking if he can try anal, with his fingers slamming too deep, with his grip on you so tight you know it'll bruise, with his ability to knock the breath out of you and not give it back until you're nearly blue in the face.

yeah, most of the intense shit is accidental, but god is he taking care of you. always apologizing but continuing, always promising to make it up to you, always feeding into your ego more than his own, reminding you that the pain his body lends only comes from the immense amount of need he has to practically crawl inside of you and live there forever.

it's kind of amazing actually, that someone who starts so gentle can also end with blood in his mouth from bitten lips and swelling bruises all over your body.

he tends to you hand and foot. carrying you where ever you need to go even if just to your closet three feet from the bed, dresses you, undresses you, fixes your hair, does your skin care, all while kissing the bruises and ignoring the fact that he knows he'll never have enough of you, and you're probably always gonna be in pain when he loses his control like that.

#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #heeseung smut #jake smut #jay smut #sunghoon smut #jaeyun smut #jongseong smut #hardthots

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jiyascepter · 4 days

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Kitchen Confessions | 18+ Only

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Loki x f!reader

Words: 2179

Warnings/Content: fluff followed by smut, reader and Loki are roommates, argument (almost like a banter), mutual pining, idiots who won't confess their love to each other, frustrated love confessing??, p in v, creampie, kissing, nicknames (love, sweetheart, darling), oral (fem receiving), loki gives soft dom vibes??

Summary: You give Loki some silent treatment.

"Fine, I don't care about you," he says casually, with that same challenging face he always carries whenever he talks to you, asking you to react to him, argue with him. But this time, his words actually gashed.

Did he really not care? Did he actually just see you as his roommate and nothing else all this time?

There was always some chemistry and some spark between you two, and you were aware it was always more than that. That understanding between you two, that flirting, being protective of each other, you were no stranger to it that you two used to behave like couples most of the time.

But today, in this heated argument you two just had, when he said those words, it did feel as if he meant that.

You frown slightly and look him in the eyes before turning around and heading to the kitchen, not wanting to talk to him in the slightest.

He watches you leave in front of him and head to the kitchen while he stands in the living room. He can't believe you actually fell for his act of not caring. He sits down on the couch with an agitated expression on his face. You will go back to normal after a while, he knew that, as you always did after every banter.

It had been hours now, you had not even spoken a word to him. Leave that, not even glanced at him. You were ignoring his presence. And he was hating that. You were going around the house doing your business, making yourself some food, and keeping your bedroom clean.

Gosh, you didn't even come to lay on the couch beside him to watch some television today.

Now you were in the kitchen again, and he could make out you were trying to find yourself an evening snack. He decides to join you in the kitchen, his annoyance at your avoidance was growing, and he was getting very tempted to go over and pull you back beside him and keep you there.

Your back was turned to him as you were facing the kitchen counter. You felt his presence near you but decided not to look at him and continued making your light sandwich.

He walks over to you and speaks in a slightly irritated tone, forcing it, as a part of him wanted to just wrap his arms around you and pull you close. "What's the issue? Why are you avoiding me?"

You don't look at him.

"Oh for the sake of-" he grabs your arm and turns you to face him. "Why have you been avoiding me?"

As if he doesn't know. The heights of this man.

To his relief, you finally look up at him and speak in a low tone, "I don't want to talk to you." He leans in pretty much face to face and speaks softly, his words carrying a bit of irritation. "I am starting to get annoyed."

"You're always annoyed. Nothing new." you reply.

A small smile forms on his face as you say this and he sighs as he can't stay serious anymore. The way you argue and complain is almost endearing to him and he cannot help it. His irritation finally gives it's way and his eyes lock on you.

"You are quite perceptive aren't you?" he says trying to hide his smile.

"Yes I am." you say, giving him a challenging look.

He stares at your lips then back at your eyes. "I have other emotions as well, you know that right?"

"Hmm…doesn't look like it."

He tries to suppress a small smirk as he speaks. "You think all I'm capable of is being annoyed and angry?"

"Yeah."

His smirk grows as he speaks softly, getting a bit closer. "Guess you are gonna have to see more of my emotions then…"

You slightly gulp as he gets closer but keep your guard. "Which…is probably not possible…"

He chuckles softly, "Who said it's not possible?"

"I did." you say and before he could get even closer, you turn around to face the kitchen counter again. Loki rolls his eyes and grabs your waist and pulls you back as he speaks in a more firm tone now as if he's trying to get his point across.

"You can't tell me what I'll do or how I feel, sweetheart." He grabs your wrist with other hand and pulls your body more tightly into his as he pushes his chest into yours.

"Yeah, but I can guess…" You say looking at him but regretting it a second later when you notice how close his face is, making your heart beat faster.

Meanwhile Loki cannot deny that you have a point. He starts to get flustered as he notices you breathing heavily and that you both are in an intimate stance that he cannot ignore. He looks at you with longing eyes and you can see that his body language was getting quite comfortable with yours. You look at his lips then shyly look away, rolling your eyes a bit to show you're still in the argument.

Getting frustrated with your avoidance, he does the only thing he knows how to do that might provoke a reaction from you: he grabs your jaw and turns your face to him, pulling you close. He leans close so that his lips are just a few inches away from you. He breaths softly on your face and looks at your lips before speaking in a soft and quiet tone."If you are avoiding me because you want me, then it's working."

Staring at him a bit surprised he figured you out, you say nothing.

Still holding you tight he leans even closer, his eyes now fixed on your lips as he speaks in a silky voice. "You are not gonna avoid me forever. I'm not going to let you..." He finally gives in and kisses you softly on the lips, his one hand keeping you tightly against him.

You both continue making out passionately against the kitchen counter.

After a few seconds he pulls away, looking at your face and stroking your flicks out of your face. "Do you have any idea how frustrating it was just watching you walk away like that and not being able to say I want you so badly? Your body language and how close you get to me sometimes....the way you're avoiding me, all it does is make me yearn to have you more. How can you think that's gonna make me ignore you? Your beauty is so exquisite and you think I don't care about that?"

"You-" you try to think of another complaint against him but his words get to you and a blush forms on your cheeks. The way you're blushing make it really difficult for him to stay infuriated.

"Do you have any idea what it does to me when you act this way? You are driving me crazy by making me want you more than ever. It makes me want to do all sorts of things to you." He says, not even believing himself he is confessing this. He pauses as he bites his lip, not sure he can resist his strong desire to grab you and take it to the next level.

"A-all sorts of things…?" you look up at him blushing.

So all this time this man was hiding these feelings? What an actor.

"All sorts of things. You don't even want to know what I would do to you if I were your boyfriend." You felt your heart coming out of your chest with this one. You look down shyly, not knowing how to reply to him anymore as you've been proven wrong that he doesn't care about you.

"Look at me. Tell me right now that you don't feel the same way. Tell me you don't want me to touch you and I'll stop." You look up at him and your eyes give him the obvious answer.

Face flushed with your admittance, he speaks softly as he stares into your eyes, "That's it, that's all I needed." He give your waist a squeeze and speaks, "Now let me show you just how much I wanted you all this time…"

He holds you by your waist tight as he leans in and begins making out with you passionately, he doesn't hold back or show you any restraint, his hands stay on your waist and he only pulls you tighter to his body.

There is a mix of dominance and passion in the way he makes out with you and he only continues to grow more passionate with each second.

As you're making out he slowly turns you so you're facing the couch behind you. He continues making out with you as he slowly bends down a bit and picks you up so that he's holding you in his arms. He's still holding you by the waist while he slowly starts walking towards the couch, still making out with you passionately.

He puts his hands beneath your skirt and squeezes your ass before setting you on the couch. Holding him by the shirt, you pull him onto you as you groan into the kiss. He puts his hand under your skirt and pulls down your delicate panties, his tongue still entwined with yours.

He retreats from your lips, planting tender, lustful kisses around your cheeks, jaw and earlobe. Your fingers stray across his smooth shirt, brushing across his firm chest. His erection was palpable through his pants, he leans in to get between your legs, on your pubic mound.

You squeal as he puts his lips around your earlobe and gives it a tiny bite.

"Admit it," he murmurs while reaching down to have his time with your neck.

"W…what…" you say in a voice filled with ecstasy.

"Admit that you wanted me all this time too, and I wasn't imagining it." He says this, and you feel the tip of his tongue roaming up your neck.

"L-loki," you moan, clutching his shirt tightly.

"Norns… just admit it." He says it loudly, and his teeth nip at your skin, and you squirm.

"I…I admit I wanted you…" You bite your lip.

Gosh, you wanted him in already.

"Loki…"

"Patience, sweetheart." He whispers while taking his time to take off your top and pulling up your bra to expose your hardened nipples. He takes one of your nipples in between his teeth and lightly pulls at it, making you whimper. He gives your nipple a lick before leaning down and lifting your legs, along with your skirt, to fully reveal your clit to him.

"So...pretty..." he remarks, removing his share of clothes while keeping his gaze fixed on your hole.

You become even more excited to have him inside you as he shows you his erection. You had no idea when your hand reached down and into his silky hair as he leaned down to kiss your clit while holding your thighs firmly in place. He kisses your hole, teasing it, teasing it so much that it made you a needy, moaning mess.

"Loki…please…" you almost beg. He pulls away and looks at you.

"Ready for me already, love?" You nod, and he cups your face and places a kiss on your lips for a second, then pulls away to take hold of his massive cock and slowly enter your hole.

You whimper and look at his face, then his bare shoulders, and hold your hands out to hold on to him, but instead he grabs both of your hands and pins them down on the couch.

"Stay still. No touching." You let out a whine and he buries his cock further inside you as if shutting you up. He moves his hips against your body at a steady pace, occasionally leaning down to kiss your lips or bite your neck. He was increasing his speed randomly and then slowing down, torturing your sweet cunt.

"I almost feel sorry for you…" he says, grabbing hold of one of your breasts and kissing your cheeks while his cock thrashes against your pussy.

"Ahh…mm…" You moan, and his hand squeezes your breast.

He was now moving his body almost brutally fast, and you can feel yourself drawing nearer. He gives you a sidelong glance while grinning.

"You want to come, darling?" You avert your gaze to him, open your eyes, and hum in agreement.

"Come darling…come over my cock…" he growls the last part while slamming his balls near your asshole.

"Ahh…fuck…Loki!" You yelled feeling his juices pouring inside you.

Gritting his teeth, he leaned on your body, letting go of your wrists and breathing heavily, your chests touching and you could feel his weight on you.

He inhales sharply and glances at you and your physique, admiring your form. You continue to breathe heavily while beaming at him.

"Now you will know what things I would do to you now that I am your boyfriend." He says as he stoops down to kiss your cheek.

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flimsy-roost · 7 months

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I realized the other day that the reason I didn't watch much TV as a teenager (and why I'm only now catching up on late aughts/early teens media that I missed), is because I literally didn't understand how to use our TV. My parents got a new system, and it had three remotes with a Venn diagram of functions. If someone left the TV on an unfamiliar mode, I didn't know how to get back to where I wanted to be, so I just stopped watching TV on my own altogether.

I explained all this to my therapist, because I didn't know if this was more related to my then-unnoticed autism, or to my relationship with my parents at the time (we had issues less/unrelated to neurodivergency). She told me something interesting.

In children's autism assessments, a common test is to give them a straightforward task that they cannot reasonably perform, like opening an overtight jar. The "real" test is to see, when they realize that they cannot do it on their own, if they approach a caregiver for help. Children that do not seek help are more likely to be autistic than those that do.

This aligns with the compulsory independence I've noticed to be common in autistic adults, particularly articulated by those with lower support needs and/or who were evaluated later in life. It just genuinely does not occur to us to ask for help, to the point that we abandon many tasks that we could easily perform with minor assistance. I had assumed it was due to a shared common social trauma (ie bad experiences with asking for help in the past), but the fact that this trait is a childhood test metric hints at something deeper.

My therapist told me that the extremely pathologizing main theory is that this has something to do with theory of mind, that is doesn't occur to us that other people may have skills that we do not. I can't speak for my early childhood self, or for all autistic people, but I don't buy this. Even if I'm aware that someone else has knowledge that I do not (as with my parents understanding of our TV), asking for help still doesn't present itself as an option. Why?

My best guess, using only myself as a model, is due to the static wall of a communication barrier. I struggle a lot to make myself understood, to articulate the thing in my brain well enough that it will appear identically (or at least close enough) in somebody else's brain. I need to be actively aware of myself and my audience. I need to know the correct words, the correct sentence structure, and a close-enough tone, cadence, and body language. I need draft scripts to react to possible responses, because if I get caught too off guard, I may need several minutes to construct an appropriate response. In simple day-to-day interactions, I can get by okay. In a few very specific situations, I can excel. When given the opportunity, I can write more clearly than I am ever capable of speaking.

When I'm in a situation where I need help, I don't have many of my components of communication. I don't always know what my audience knows. I don't have sufficient vocabulary to explain what I need. I don't know what information is relevant to convey, and the order in which I should convey it. I don't often understand the degree of help I need, so I can come across inappropriately urgent or overly relaxed. I have no ability to preplan scripts because I don't even know the basic plot of the situation.

I can stumble though with one or two deficiencies, but if I'm missing too much, me and the potential helper become mutually unintelligible. I have learned the limits of what I can expect from myself, and it is conceptualized as a real and physical barrier. I am not a runner, so running a 5k tomorrow does not present itself as an option to me. In the same way, if I have subconscious knowledge that an interaction is beyond my capability, it does not present itself as an option to me. It's the minimum communication requirements that prevent me from asking for help, not anything to do with the concept of help itself.

Maybe. This is the theory of one person. I'm curious if anyone else vibes with this at all.

#actually autistic #autistic #audhd #neurodivergent #nd #long post #actuallyautistic

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rdr2gifs · 3 months

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''the morning light, when it comes to me, it was there but I could not see''

Arthur’s life was profoundly shaped by his self-hatred, lack of self-worth and disbelief in the existence of kindness in a seemingly dark and cruel world.

I strongly disagree with the statement that Arthur only became a ‘’better’’ man after being diagnosed with tb. His struggle with his true/inner self is apparent as early as chapter one. ‘’You are not who you think you are, sir… which is lucky’’

He has lived a rough life, raised by criminals and surrounded by violence ever since he was born. It was installed in him early that his value lied within being a violent enforcer and he has lived this life since, knowing nothing else. As a highly aware person, Arthur's actions weight heavy on his soul. He accepts that his actions have consequences. He knows that a person who has caused so much suffering is not meant to have happiness in life. His way of life has caused him to believe that he is not worthy of love or redemption. He doesn’t want to believe that a person like him could be capable of any good. (a thing to note here is that imo, Arthur’s actions near his death weren’t attempts at redemption but rather a strong desire to do right and possibly be his true self.) This is why he keeps living as he does as it’s the only thing he’s ever known, it’s the thing that brings him profit, praise from the person he looks up to and he is already damned so he might as well continue living this life anyway.

The internal problem Arthur faces is that this violent, cruel way of life doesn’t align with what I’d call his true self/ideals. He is torn between the harsh reality he has known and an unconscious yearning for righteousness/love. To be able to carry on with his actions he must enforce certain ideals within himself, such as: I am bad, ugly, nasty, ignorant, mean etc. He also decides to see the dark side of reality, telling himself that the world is a grim dark place and this is just as things were meant to be. This is why he feels so uncomfortable being complimented for his good deeds, because a bad rotten person like him should not be able to do good. It breaks the image he has built for himself and he doesn’t want that happening. This can be seen a lot during the ‘’Money Lending and Other Sins’’ missions where he is unusually mean (even for his standards) to each of the debtors. Imo, he acts this way because he must truly convince himself of being a terrible man to be able to carry out a job which revolts him so badly. In the last debt collecting mission with J. John Weathers, it can be seen in his face/expressions how much he is struggling to put on a tough, uncaring, heartless act. He needs to maintain a ruthless persona to survive in the world he knows. He must convince himself of his own cruelty.

''Forgive me, but that's the problem. You don't know you.''

Contrary to Arthur’s beliefs, he is a naturally kind-hearted person who is unconsciously drawn towards kindness. And yes, even before he was diagnosed with tb. This can be seen in the people he respects the most and, in his willingness to help strangers (notice how he often does unnecessary acts of service for total strangers such as: carrying their things, holding out hands etc. even though they had already troubled him). Despite the life he has lived, Arthur does not enjoy violence, he does not enjoy hurting people. He doesn’t want to dominate over others. He thinks mostly about others and not about himself. This fact alone is very telling of his character.

He writes about Charles, a man who he truly respects: ‘’He’s a better man than me. He does not need to think to be good. It comes naturally to him, like right is deep within as opposed to this conflict between GOOD↔EVIL that rages within me.’’ A man who is not struggling with his inner self would not have written this. To me this clearly implies an inner desire to be a better man. He writes about his mentors: ‘’I love Dutch like a father, but in many ways, I love Hosea even more. He’s kind and fair and like a human being. Dutch is something else.’’ Clearly showing a preference for Hosea who is of a more gentle nature and shows genuine kindness. Unsurprisingly, these are the people who see through his dumb/though act and encourage him to drop it.

When he comes across Brother Dorkins for the first time, he writes: ‘’(he)was one of those innocent people who make you feel better about human beings and about yourself a little. Must be odd to see all that goodness in the world. Place always seemed dark and brutal to me.’’ Expressing how he does not see goodness in the world, implying lack of good examples/kindness/good experiences in his life. Yet, the monk leaves an impression and imo, this encounter (seeing genuine goodness) disrupts Arthur’s perception of what the world truly is. ‘’Just as evil begat evil your whole life long, so good may begat good’’ (what strengthens my belief in this, is the following, symbolic scene of Arthur realising the consequences of his actions right after picking up a crucifix. He was aware of them before sure, but is unable to truly ignore them now having seen it right in front of his eyes). If only Arthur was presented with more examples of goodness in his life.

''You have it in you... I can tell!''

His desire to do as much good as possible after realising he won’t live long is instant. This would not be the mindset of someone who did not already possess kindness in his heart. ‘’Know glory and forget about shame.’’ Arthur’s shame and self-loathing caused by his previous actions were what was holding him back from allowing kindness into his life. Knowing that he has limited time left has not made him into someone he wasn’t before. The diagnosis was a catalyst, allowing him to embrace that love/goodness truly does exist and accelerate the process of chipping away from the persona he has made for himself. This was a newfound understanding for him as in the past he was rejecting any notion of kindess. In himself and perhaps the whole existence of it. ‘’You keep hidden all that matters, even from yourself.’’

After being diagnosed, he writes: ‘’What kind of a man have I been? What kind of a man am I? What world is this we live in? A land of fury or a place of love? Am I being prepared for eternal damnation? Am I past any kind of saving? Is that all fairytales? Man ain’t got much good in him. I ain’t got no good in me… I don’t think and yet I see goodness. I see it. If not in me, in good folk. In Abigail and her love for Jack. In that silly monk. In Downes, I guess. Begging not for himself but for the poor, even though he was near starving himself. Maybe I don’t want salvation. Part of me has always longed for death.’’ This entry perfectly shows how deep Arthur’s self-loathing goes and just how much it has damaged him. As his journal allows a look into his true feelings, he truly does not see a single good thing about himself. He knew for a long time that the way he lives is detestable but he could not let go of it. Not because he didn’t want to, but because it’s all that he has ever known. He didn’t believe in anything else. This sudden acceptance of goodness has allowed him to see clearly, which was obscured from him before, and for the first time, enabled him to act free of past regrets for what is right.

⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪

Arthur’s redemption is not about becoming a good man. It is about finding the strength to change and recognise your true self despite a lifetime of self-loathing and breaking free from destructive beliefs of the past.

In Arthurian legends a stag is a symbol of the unending quest of spiritual knowledge/enligtenment

#this is my own personal interpretation of arthur's redemption #i could expand so much more on this #the orange quotes are by blind man cassidy #please don’t even interact if you think arthur was just a killer incapable of goodness before he was diagnosed #the ironic thing is that so many people could see behind arthur’s front but he was blind to it #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #this analysis is based purely on high-honor choices #i don't care if your arthur shoots up entire towns this analysis does not take individual open-world gameplay decisions into account #i did almost cry thinking about this #text post

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buccini555 · 7 months

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𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

𖥻 H e a d c a n o n s!

⁀➷ They react to you suspecting you are being cheated on after seeing them talking "affectionately" to someone else

↻ 𝑭𝒕. Manjiro Sano, Kazutora Hanemiya, Baji Keisuke, Mitsuya Takashi, Takemichi Hanagaki, Izana Kurokawa and Kakucho Hitto

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨

Manjiro would definitely feel uncomfortable knowing that you believed he would be capable of cheating on you

"What the fuck kind of guy do you think I am?" He would say upon hearing your words, no matter how much he was completely irritated by such distrust, he would try to maintain control so as not to hurt you, he would not betray you under any circumstances, and if he did, he would break up with you and let you know.

"I would never do that, I would never cheat on you, I don't know how you came to that conclusion, but, I wouldn't do that." He would try to find out what caused such distrust and change any type of behavior that was making you jealous.

𝐊𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚

Kazutora would be hurt by such distrust, as he never intended to cause you such "insecurity"

"Me cheating on you? What a bad joke, huh?" Kazutora would be incredulous at such distrust, since in his eyes he had done nothing wrong and everything was unfair.

"As much as I was offended by this, I understand... Tell me the reason for such distrust, I will change." He would take your jealousy seriously, Kazuto would never hurt you, hearing you distrust him really made him more aware of the way he behaved.

𝐁𝐚𝐣𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞

Baji wouldn't take your distrust seriously, he wouldn't even care about your words since his conscience would be completely clear

"I know I'm not the best boyfriend in the world and I'm far from being, but cheating on you would be too much" Even though Baji was a bit of a difficult person to deal with, he was always extremely sincere in his words, Keisuke visibly became surprised and disappointed by such an accusation, he spent some time without talking to you, as the days went by he forgot about this incident, despite not having taken your distrust so seriously, he began to pay more attention to his own behavior.

𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢

Mitsuya would NEVER betray you, he would be worried about your distrust, so he would talk and be very clear with you

"Me betray you? I would never be that coward!" Mitsuya would say immediately upon hearing his words, he would try to remain calm at that moment, as he didn't want to make you hurt even more.

"I didn't enter into this relationship with you without purpose... I love you and I would never break our trust, tell me what made you think that, I'll change, I'm sorry!" Mitsuya would hug you and tell you as sincerely as possible, regardless of what caused you such distrust, he would change that fact.

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐤𝐢

As soon as he heard your distrust, Takemichi would become extremely agitated, he didn't betray you, but he felt like he had done something wrong without even having done it

"I didn't cheat on you, I'm sorry for making you think that!" In the midst of trying to hold back his tears because he thought you would break up with him even though he was innocent, he would beg for your forgiveness for having caused such mistrust, Takemichi would only calm down when you realized he was telling the truth.

𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚

Izana would be angry, sincerely disappointed with such an accusation coming from you

Izana would remain silent, just listening to you carefully, after finishing listening to his words, he would look at you with disgust.

"If you really think I would do that, you better get out of my life! You don't know me well enough..." He wouldn't react well to your words, Izana wouldn't betray you, he was deeply in love with you and hearing that It really affected him.

𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨

Kakucho would not understand the reason for the accusation, but he would do his best to make you believe him and realize that it was all just a misunderstanding

"... I'm sorry, I don't want you to think that about me, I would never hurt you in such a way." He would say calmly, looking away as he was hurt by the rage of your words.

"I don't want to make you suspicious, this won't happen again." Kakucho would be more careful with his behavior, even though he didn't do anything wrong, he never wanted to hurt you.

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aurae-rori · 13 days

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DR RATIO ANALYSIS: PART 2, ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT.

Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, you already did one, why do you need a second?" And my answer is, "LORD, I FORGOT TO TALK ABOUT HOW HIS DEFINITION OF 'IDIOT' IS DIFFERENT. AND ALSO HE DOES NOT HATE AVENTURINE NOR DOES HE THINK AVENTURINE IS STUPID." Once again, here is my disclaimer - although I have been researching psychology for a solid six years, I am NOT a professional. (I will be, one day. Just you wait, just youuuu wait-) So understand that everything I say has been analyzed with personal judgement, with my own conclusions, come to with logic and my personal interpretation. This is just what I have concluded, and you are always free to disagree.

This is my legacy. To be an analyzer. So let's go.

Okay, now that my disclaimer is over, let's take off Ratio's plaster head and chuck it into the sea, and see - what does he mean by 'idiot'?

This will be much shorter than my last, so don't worry - I will not be flashbanging you with another 4k words. This is more like a follow up, than anything else, because there's a few things I wish to touch on.

Dr. Ratio doesn't hate idiots in the sense that he hates people that have 'low IQ' or are 'stupid' in terms of being 'slow to understand'. I definitely touched on this in my last analysis, but he hates people who take their education for granted and don't go places with the gifts that they've been given. He hates "idiots" - "narrow minded" people who have the capabilities to do more and perceive more than they choose to do. People who deliberately look away or take what they know and what they could do for granted. He wants to open people's eyes and allow them to see life from multiple different angles and he believes that everyone should have a chance to learn - with the whole "knowledge for everyone" thing he's got rolling.

He wears a plaster head around people he doesn't seem to know too well in order to think more, or so that he doesn't have to see the faces of the people he dislikes. Pretty good roast. However, he does NOT wear that plaster head around Aventurine. Let's listen to the doctor's judgement - Aventurine is far from stupid. Although he likes to chalk up a lot of the things he does to his own luck, he is an INCREDIBLY capable individual who's managed to get this far because of his own form of genius. He's a man who relies on chance and good fortune, yes, but his charm, his way of scheming, and the way that he's good with people? That's skill. A talent he doesn't take for granted. Dr. Ratio respects him for this - because despite the fact that he has no proper education, he has his eyes wide open to the world and doesn't take shit for granted. He learns what he can in order to survive and he does it fucking well - Aventurine is a very smart man. He's observant, quick on his feet, and great at going with the flow and thinking in the moment.

Aventio aside, I actually believe that Dr. Ratio would be a really good teacher to those who struggle. He's patient where it's needed to be, even if he's got a quick temper, and I believe in his pursuit for knowledge he would do his best to go out of his way to find strategies that would work for their individuals. We're all unique, and he's aware of this - and because he wants to allow people to think for themselves, whatever helps the individual works. Depression? He's got a psych degree, I'm sure bro could give you some strategies. Autism? He has a touch of the 'tism himself. ADHD, and not feeling organized? Bro will help you. It's canon that he's a great fucking teacher - those who finish his classes go on to become successful people who are intelligent and critical thinkers. Round of applause for Ratio, the man that kins my father. He's shit at emotions, but great at knowledge.

Also, on that note, I believe that he would most likely hate parents that push thier "gifted" students to the limit without any compassion for the person that they really are. He's most definitely got some of that academic trauma so I believe that bro holds a secret disdain for parents who just use their children to gain more recgonition. Well, not so secret. He'd cuss them out. (Ratio please cuss out the horrible parents.)

Dr. Ratio, the Teacher ever. (Hey, maybe he'd get along with Kunikida...)

Also, I am definitely planning on making a fic where he teaches Aventurine Latin. As long as you're eager to learn and willing to look past the chalk being thrown, he's got a place for you.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk. I did not read this through, so this is not edited. Take my unedited rambles.

#aurae analyzes #dr ratio #drratio #veritas ratio #analysis #character analysis #honkai star rail #hsr #aventio #ratiorine #aventurine #dr ratio x aventurine #character study

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anghraine · 2 months

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It's obvious that I'm adamantly opposed to the idea that Darcy does not deserve Elizabeth's good opinion/love, doesn't deserve his happy ending with her, is generally inferior to her, whatever.

I will say, however, that there is someone who has a good opinion of him that he does very little to earn. I think you could make a much better argument in that case that he doesn't really deserve it. And yet it's so endearing:

[Mrs Bennet:] “Mrs Long told me last night that he [Darcy] sat close to her for half an hour without once opening his lips.” “Are you quite sure, ma’am? Is not there a little mistake?” said Jane. “I certainly saw Mr Darcy speaking to her.” “Ay, because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he could not help answering her; but she said he seemed very angry at being spoke to.” “Miss Bingley told me,” said Jane, “that he never speaks much unless among his intimate acquaintance. With them he is remarkably agreeable.”

Jane's reaction to Wickham's story:

“Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light it places Mr Darcy, to be treating his father’s favourite in such a manner,—one whom his father had promised to provide for. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his character, could be capable of it."

Jane passing on Bingley's account:

"I am sorry to say that by his account, as well as his sister’s, Mr Wickham is by no means a respectable young man. I am afraid he has been very imprudent, and has deserved to lose Mr Darcy’s regard."

Jane after Wickham's story becomes common "knowledge":

Miss Bennet was the only creature who could suppose there might be any extenuating circumstances in the case unknown to the society of Hertfordshire: her mild and steady candour always pleaded for allowances, and urged the possibility of mistakes; but by everybody else Mr Darcy was condemned as the worst of men.

Jane after Elizabeth tells her about the Hunsford proposal:

She [Jane] was sorry that Mr Darcy should have delivered his sentiments in a manner so little suited to recommend them; but still more was she grieved for the unhappiness which her sister’s refusal must have given him.

Jane is so sad about how sad Darcy must be!

“His being so sure of succeeding was wrong,” said she [Jane], “and certainly ought not to have appeared; but consider how much it must increase his disappointment.”

Jane's response to hearing the truth about Wickham:

What a stroke was this for poor Jane, who would willingly have gone through the world without believing that so much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind as was here collected in one individual! Nor was Darcy’s vindication, though grateful to her feelings, capable of consoling her for such discovery.

Jane still vicariously suffering for Darcy:

“Wickham so very bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr Darcy! dear Lizzy, only consider what he must have suffered. Such a disappointment! and with the knowledge of your ill opinion too! and having to relate such a thing of his sister! It is really too distressing, I am sure you must feel it so.”

Jane even points out that Darcy's general behavior and demeanor never struck her as all that bad:

[Elizabeth]: “There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it.” [Jane]: “I never thought Mr Darcy so deficient in the appearance of it as you used to do.”

Elizabeth keeps so much of her relationship with Darcy hidden through the later novel that Jane doesn't have reason to say much about him, but after their engagement, Elizabeth worries about her family's response:

she anticipated what would be felt in the family when her situation became known: she was aware that no one liked him but Jane

When Elizabeth tells Jane about the engagement, Jane is shocked and baffled. Elizabeth assures her of her change in feeling, and adds:

"But are you pleased, Jane? Shall you like to have such a brother?” “Very, very much."

Jane continues to be worried that Elizabeth doesn't really love Darcy and wants details that she eventually does receive.

“Now I am quite happy,” said she, “for you will be as happy as myself. I always had a value for him. Were it for nothing but his love of you, I must always have esteemed him; but now, as Bingley’s friend and your husband, there can be only Bingley and yourself more dear to me."

Yes: Darcy is more dear to Jane than her father, mother, other three sisters, friends, and four uncles and aunts.

As for Darcy, he certainly likes and respects her. He describes her in the letter as amiable, cheerful, engaging, and explicitly excludes her from his criticisms of the Bennets. Back at Netherfield, he's noted as ignoring Miss Bingley to be polite towards Jane, and after his own engagement, he points out Elizabeth's care for Jane as early proof of her own goodness. Jane is one of only three characters he refers to by their first name alone by the end of the book (the others are Elizabeth and Georgiana).

So it's not that he doesn't appreciate her in his own way. I actually think the quiet rapport between them is really cute even though Jane is the person who suffers the most for Darcy's mistakes. But damn, Jane.

#jane and darcy brotp is so important to me because jane is... like that #anghraine babbles #long post #austen blogging #austen fanwank #fitzwilliam darcy #jane bennet #elizabeth bennet #jane austen #pride and prejudice

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istoleyoursk1n · 4 months

Note

Hello! I know I just requested something else, but I also have another request if you're up for it 🥰 How about all of the companies with a s/o who's really short and wears a lot of layers but it's later revealed that they're absolutely ripped and ridiculously muscular but nobody would have expected it? I think it'd be hilarious to see everyone go "Holy cow you could crush my head if you wanted to 😯"

Thank you so much again!!

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

How would they react to a Tav who wears a lot of layers but is secretly ripped

: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

“So you’re telling me the little garden gnome could have manhandled half of us if they wanted to? Gods. Am I to be thanking you for sparing me and my pretty skin unscathed all this time?”

Probably the one making fun of your height and holding things up above you so you couldn't reach them.

He didn't really see you as anything he should be threatened by so he figured he could get away with a lot.

Besides you never really tried to fight back most of the time so he found his own little source of entertainment with his playful little jabs at you.

Was very much startled when you shook those layers off to reveal your muscular frame, he didn't expect it at all. You didn't even look strong in his eyes, until now at least.

Suddenly he’s wondering why you haven't once tried to punch him in the face after the amount of times he's poked fun at you.

Do not punch his face though (0/10) would not recommend, he bites.

Questions why you even bother to hiding yourself in layers upon layers of clothing? Is it some sort of deceptive tactic he wasn't aware of? (It probably wasn't but he’s appalled that you’d even hide something like this).

Other than that, he's impressed. Who knew you were hiding your own raw strength behind layers of clothing? Quite the sight for sore eyes if he does say so himself.

Encourages you to show it off more often, who needs all those rags when you have such an impressive build?

: ̗̀➛ WYLL

“Hells, to think that behind all those rags was the body of a true warrior! Safe to say that I’ll never be doubting your abilities again.”

Truthfully found you rather adorable since you were considered the shortest among the rest of your travelling companions.

You seemed harmless enough, but, he never once believed that you were completely fragile because of it.

However, there were times when he’d often do tasks that you knew you were perfectly capable of handling yourself over the fact that he was unaware of your true strength.

There have been a lot of times when he jumped in front of you during battles, worried that you couldn't handle it yourself.

However, the shock that appeared on his face once all those layers were shaken off was priceless.

He might have been a little bit embarrassed as well seeing as how he might have underestimated you a tad bit which knew could be quite undermining on your end.

Immediately voices his initial surprise and how amazed he is that you seem to look as fit if not even more so than him.

You look amazing! And he wishes you could leave all the layers more often if it's something you are comfortable with of course.

You knew he was already quite fond of you but now wistful glances from him would come as often as possible in pure admiration of your raw strength. Safe to say he’d never be underestimating your capabilities again.

: ̗̀➛ GALE

“It seems that until now, I find myself learning new information about you… though, I must say, you possessing a rather athletically built figure wasn't one of them. Not to say I don’t appreciate the way you look.”

Wasn't quite sure why you were wearing that many layers of clothing. The weather was already relatively hot and still, you insisted on wearing such things.

I mean, as long as you are comfortable and happy with them he didn't seem all too bothered by it.

Found you endearing in his own way, seeing as he would often find himself craning his neck or having to bend his body to meet your eye level but it made it all the more amusing for him.

Similar to Wyll, he found himself underestimating your true abilities as you truly appeared harmless in his eyes. Sure, if you had to kill a goblin for your own survival you would but you didn't exactly give off brutish vibes.

Even so, that never made him find your company any less enjoyable.

Though, he was quite startled when your true form was revealed, and all those extra layers of clothing were taken off from you. He wasn't even sure if he was looking at the right person.

One moment you appeared as innocent and delicate as could be only for you to actually have the body of someone who's probably more physically capable than him.

You've probably given him another reason as to why he admires you all too much. The new look on you is a tad bit distracting for him and Gale can't manage to hide how smitten he is for the life of him.

If anything, now you’re all the more distracting to him, and it takes him a while to break out of that haze he's put himself in.

: ̗̀➛ KARLACH

“Fucking hell, all the things I could have known about you but I never thought it would be this! You’re absolutely ripped! A badass body for one of the coolest people I know.”

Was practically squealing from how adorable you looked, especially in comparison to her towering height. You were like a little puppy in her eyes.

She couldn't understand why you’d wear so many layers of clothing, it's not like it was cold, and she knew that if she were to try that herself she’d feel uncomfortable as all hell.

But she won't press on it, as long as you are okay with it then wear as much as you wish.

The moment she was able to touch you, she was off carrying you around. She had wanted to pick you up for the longest time but she didn't understand why you felt slightly heavier than she thought you would be.

Perhaps it's all the extra layers of clothing? Either way, she didn't care. As long as she got to mess around with her favorite travel companion then what the hell.

Freaked out the moment you actually revealed how ripped you are beneath all the rags. You were practically as muscular as her.

It only seemed to excite her more because now she's fawning over how amazing you look and what you did to make your body look like this.

You've only grown to be ten times more awesome in her eyes and to see you use your true strength makes her swoon. She couldn't have chosen a better companion to have alongside her.

Suddenly the extra weight she felt carrying you made a lot more sense. Not that she’ll ever complain. Even with the newfound information, she’ll never stop lifting you up in her arms for the fun of it.

: ̗̀➛ SHADOWHEART

“I suppose there's more to be known about you, isn't there? I was not expecting you to be as fit as you are but I can't say it isn't something I’d find myself grow tired of seeing.”

She didn't think much about the extra layers of clothing you wore other than it being for comfort or aesthetics. She's not one to care much for it.

You've been a helpful and valuable member of the group thus far, she saw no reason to underestimate you even in terms of strength.

It was rather amusing to have you around as a much shorter companion than her.

It wasn't something she ever mentioned or poked fun of but the coy little smile on her face revealed just how much she found the height difference amusing.

She was pleasantly surprised the moment you revealed just how muscular you truly are, even with her insight she never would have expected it.

Regardless, she's impressed with your stature, knowing that obtaining such a form would have taken a long time to have.

With or without all the layers, she still thinks you’re pleasing in her eyes, and whether you choose to use that undeniable strength is all up to you.

Though, she will take a moment to admire you while she can. She’d never force you to quit using layers of clothing but looking at you when you’re like this has its own appeal.

: ̗̀➛ LAE’ZEL

“Just when I thought we’d have to eliminate you for your lack of use. Chk, perhaps I was wrong about you, istik. Consider my blade unsheathed for now.”

Practically disregarded you at first. You seemed so weak in her eyes that she wasn't even sure what assistance you’d provide for her.

She finds the layers upon layers of clothing unnecessary and it isn't practical when charging into battle. She's told you to leave it multiple times to your dismay.

Unless you have done something to prove that you are fairly capable of handling your own battles, she's very blunt about how incapable you seem to her.

It's even worse if you’re short cause she just has more aspects of you to undermine you with.

She’ll come off as really mean but that's mostly due to how she was raised. She can easily spot disadvantages and she won't hesitate to point out each one, especially if you two aren't close.

Was genuinely shocked to see you without the layers and what your true strength truly holds. She would have taken all those demeaning words the moment you've proved yourself.

Besides, seeing you in your true glory probably woke something up in her.

She's infatuated by strong, powerful warriors and seems that you fit the bill.

You were everything she thought you weren't and she’d come to realize just how wrong about you she was. You could have probably even sparred against her if only she had given you the proper chance.

She’d come around to actually apologizing for her earlier jabs at you sooner or later but she truly has gained a newfound respect for you. You’ll never find her insulting you again.

: ̗̀➛ HALSIN

“You’re full of surprises, aren't you? Perhaps you never truly needed my protection, you've been blessed with a body that I’m certain nature itself worked tirelessly to perfect. However, I stand at your side in case you wish for any assistance.”

Thought nothing much of your extra layers of clothing. If anything it made you look all the more adorable in his eyes.

You could tell he was already enamored by you every time you had to look up to him to speak, the smile on his face never seemed to have disappeared.

He was probably extra protective of you under the assumption that you weren't as strong as the rest. Not that it was something he considered to be bad, but he wanted to make sure you wouldn't get hurt.

He’d end up doing most of the fighting for you, insisting that he's got it handled even though you knew you were capable of fighting the rest off yourself.

Regardless, it wasn't unpleasant to have Halsin come in to protect you despite your capabilities, it showed how much he cared.

He was startled when you showed your body beneath all the layers of clothing, even having to take a few seconds to stare as if he couldn't believe it.

This only seemed to make him all the more interested in you now that his eyes managed to catch a glimpse of the skin underneath all those rags, it was a sight that he would have imprinted into his mind.

Nevertheless, he will never underestimate you again but he’ll always be there in case you still wish for his protection. He could never say no to you.

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 headcanon #bg3 headcanons #bg3 wyll #bg3 astarion #bg3 gale #bg3 halsin #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 lae’zel #bg3 karlach #astarion #wyll #gale #shadowheart #halsin #lae’zel #karlach #bg3 x reader

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butmakeitgayblog · 4 months

Note

"Canon Clarke (I have theories)" may I ask 👀

Ok hear me out! I'm gonna try and explain this as best I can 😅

I believe that Clarke was extremely vocal in bed. If we look at the facts, Clarke has a big mouth and talks a lot. A lot. Often robustly, generally at inopportune times, and almost always out of turn. Girl just barely gave the tiniest of fucks at any given point in time. She did not shy away from saying exactly what she felt at any given time.

It's literally why we love her 🥺

And going off that you're not gonna tell me that didn't translate to the bedroom. How am I, a virgo lesbian with impeccable taste, meant to believe that that woman wasn't just as demonstrative in bed as she was outside of it? Just as vocal?

If you take into account the fact that after 307 everyone and their goddamn brother seemed to be aware of Clarke and Lexa's relationship, the logical question comes: How did they find out? How did literally everyone suddenly know about them without a doubt, to the point they felt comfortable speaking intimately about Lexa to Clarke? Yes Lexa wasn't subtle about her affections, but Clarke before them sleeping together was still very standoffish in her anger.

So what changed?

My theory: word of mouth.

I absolutely theorize that the guards/occupants of the surrounding tower floors quite literally heard Heda kom Body Glitter and Wanheda blowing each other's backs out, and then immediately started gossiping about it. Given the fact that their public interactions up until that point had been cloaked in so much pomp and ceremony, broken up with these strange, sporadic private moments of Clarke spending hours alone in the silence of Lexa's room as Lexa read and slept, to finally hear the sounds of them going full sapphic pauna on each other would've absolutely been something that any warrior would've gone on break and been like "biiiiiitch do you know what I just heard???" about immediately 🤷‍♀️

"Well what makes you think it was Clarke who was loud? Clarke was the one who fucked Lexa into a nap 🤨" you may ask.

To which I say: shut up and you're wrong.

Because, again, look at the facts. Lexa's love language was not only acts, but also she liiived for encouraging Clarke. Lexa was always Clarke biggest cheerleader. Her most ardent and vocal supporter. She was always the one stepping up and telling Clarke that she was capable and strong and everything else Clarke needed to hear in moments when she felt vulnerable. Do you honestly believe, after months of pining, when Lexa finally got the chance to make love to the woman who had stolen her heart and then spit in her face, that she wouldn't want to hear every single last sound of Clarke's pleasure? That she didn't encourage Clarke to completely lose herself in the pleasure of it? Do you honestly believe that when she rolled over and kissed Clarke, when she straddled her and made her writhe beneath her, when she licked through her folds and fucked her in her plush bed of furs, that she didn't ask Clarke if it felt good? If she liked this or that? That she didn't quietly beg into Clarke's ear for her to moan for her? Do you honestly believe that Lexa didn't pay attention to every twitch of Clarke's lips and gasp of her breath and use all those signals to make Clarke completely lose control? And that Clarke didn't give Lexa exactly what she wanted to hear? Willingly? Robustly? That she didn't want Lexa to hear exactly how much she made her feel? As far as either of them knew, this may be the only time they got to experience this intimacy together before their people pulled them apart. Do you really believe they didn't do exactly what they wanted to the fullest extent in those few hours they lay hidden from the world???

Clarke may not have been ready to tell Lexa that she loved her because of the anger and betrayal that lingered between them, but you're not going to ever make me believe that when she made love with Lexa she didn't do everything she could to show it

#sassymajesty #clexa #clarke Griffin #i also theorize that lexa was the only lover Clarke ever let herself be loud with #or felt the urge/ pleasure in being so #finn was the awkward rush of first love and sex #Niylah was comfort and solace #but Lexa? Lexa was love and passion #heartbreak and healing #yearning and fulfillment

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year

Text

Jungkook: Velvet Love 🔞

The things he says never match the smile he's got on his lips.

Tags/Warnings: Yandere AU, Idol!Jungkook, graphic description of gore (briefly), twisted kook, description of mental insanity

Length: Short

Belongs to: Velvet Heart (but can be read as a standalone)

!! Disclaimer: I do not believe Jeon Jungkook to be like this, God no. This is pure fiction and meant to be seen as nothing but entertainment. Thank you.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"Alright how long will it be?" Jungkook asks as everyone gets ready for the shoot. "I really need to be home by 6 tonight, latest, or I might have to murder someone this time." He chuckles, voice light as he taps away on his phone, the stylist's hands stuttering a bit as everyone glances away uncomfortably from the idol. "What? Am I not getting an answer?" He asks innocently, looking around.

"I-we can't tell yet how long it'll take." The director says. "But we'll try and get it done as quickly as we can." He hurries out at the eye contact Jungkook holds with the man, dark orbs unmoving as they focus on the older man silently.

Before the singer smiles.

"No problem, I just don't wanna go home so late again." He shrugs, slumping down into his seat a little.

He's in a good mood today. That's not the norm- no one can really ever tell what kind of emotions go through him each day. While he used to be like this almost all the time back when he was younger, something had changed these days. Now, no one can tell if the words he says are to be taken as a joke, or as a threat.

Sometimes, like today, it feels like nothing's wrong again. As if the old Jungkook had returned, wiping away all the scary and unnerving changes that happened over the course of the last few years away, turning those things into nothing but a bad dream.

The shooting is fun. Everyone's light hearted again. The air feels easy.

"You think the challenge will be easy for you?" A staff member asks Jungkook in the back of the car as they all play a game of hide and seek in a way. He's supposed to find the rest of the members with small cues and nothing else. He chuckles.

"Easy." He laughs. "I'm good at games like these. No one gets away from me." He chuckles, and again, the mood shifts for a second.

He smiles. He's teasing, joking- probably. But no one is able to not hear any underlying implications He might be putting into his words.

So when the shooting ends, and its barely 5, Jungkook grins brightly as he leaves to go home.

And only then does anybody dare to breathe freely again.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"Do you think he'd ever..." Jimin mumbles, sitting with the rest of the band backstage as they eat something, Jungkook not attending as usual. He's almost always rushing home to you right after his schedule, never staying behind for longer than necessary as if he'd run out of oxygen to breathe if he was to be apart from your presence for too long. "..I- you know what I mean, right?" Jimin says quietly, and Namjoon sighs.

"I'd like to believe he wouldn't." Hoseok says lowly. "I want to.. believe he wouldn't do that." He says, but he's not believing it.

But he, as well as others, have seen what Jungkook is capable of.

He choked Taehyung before, to the point of the singer's face turning blue. Jungkook doesn't shout, doesn't yell, never seems to voice out his anger, but rather acts on it instead. He breaks furniture, smashes holes into walls, but his favorite is always to hurt. He does it with such a calm nature that it's truly unnerving to see.

It eliminates any way of truly telling if he's ever joking or honest when he tells one of his more twisted jokes.

"But I think we're all aware that he's very much capable of it." Namjoon says with a lot more control than the others. "No one's ever safe around him. You've heard how he talks; at this point, I believe every word he tells about violence." He explains. He knows Jimin is worried for you- after all, he's the only one who ever had any true interaction with you- he knows the singer feels for your safety, wants to somehow get you out of your situation.

But he also needs to remember that if Jungkook ever found out about this, he'd probably be a dead man.

"Dont you think we should do something then?" Jimin says, just like Namjoon had expected.

"The only thing you can do is not think about it." Seokjin offers soberly. "Then it'll hurt less."

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You're beginning to try and speak more, and Jungkook worries it might become a problem at some point.

He can't have you babble about what goes on behind closed doors to others after all- what if you tell someone your address by accident, or how he's bought you a collar with a tracking device just to check where you go each day?

Of course, technically, he doesn't need it. You never leave the house after all, because you're just a good girl like that- and because the stories he tells you have made you afraid enough to never dare set foot beyond the apartment door ever. He doesn't ever make his stories too gruesome- mainly because he knows it'll make you a little too clingy, so he always depicts himself as the immortal God that cannot be harmed by any of the things he makes up. But you can be killed. You're mortal. A bag of flesh, ready to be devoured by the beasts that roam the streets outside of the safety of these walls.

You need him to survive. And he needs you to believe that.

He enjoys that you don't speak much. The noises you make and the gestures you've created to communicate are nothing shy of adorable to him after all, and any progress at proper human communication would ruin that feature of you for him. He doesn't want that- you're perfect just like this, like a pet, simply existing for him only, surviving because he wants you to.

You're alive because he allows it.

"I'll be home the entire week baby." He hums to you on his chest. "They've kept me hostage for way too much recently. I'll be with you for the entire week, I promise." He says, and you just smile, mesmerized by whatever he's saying. "You've got no idea what I'm telling you, stupid little thing?" He chuckles, and you smile as well, happily receiving his affection.

He loves it like this.

And he'll do everything and anything to keep it this way.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Would he ever kill? Truly take a life so it never returns?

He doesn't know. He's never been pushed to that degree to find out if he's capable of it. But he knows, he sometimes gets the somewhat of an urge - if not himself, then his brain rather comes up with sick and twisted thoughts of you.

His mind starts to bend memories of you into shapes unfamiliar, his hands no longer holding yours but rather bending you over his thigh until your spine cracks and breaks in half.

He gets scared of these thoughts. It's like they're not his.

He becomes fearful whenever he dreams of your chest split open by his own hands, fingers tracing each of your exposed ribs while he can't see anything but red. He knows you'd been broken before, mentally at least. Would he end up being the one to break you physically?

Maybe it's his fear of possibly losing you.

He makes love to you painfully slowly, carefully, and yet he sometimes can't help himself but to make you up as his. Never to the degree of inflicting true damage, but just to show his own actions are still under control.

He's a rabid animal, a pet once loved but now sick and deseased, truly on the verge of wasting away.

And no one around him wants to admit it.

Not while there's still traces of the old him inside.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #bts yandere #yandere bts #yandere jungkook

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that-basic-simp · 13 days

Text

Dance

Mizu X Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 1.6k+

Sticking my finger in between the collar and my neck, I tried stretching the fabric out so I could have some breathing room. I let out a sigh as it was futile. Trying to blend in in London was a lot harder than it was in Japan. Maybe it was because I had to wear completely different clothing and still pretend to be a man as well, since women were treated practically the same as in Japan. Not to mention I was also half Japanese and raven black hair wasn't really common among the white folk. Brown was, but not black like mine. Not to mention I had to wear it down and not in my normal bun. I still stood out like a sore thumb, but at least my eyes kind of matched theirs.

Sighing, I looked at myself in the mirror that was in front of me. This ball, this dance I was attending apparently was where Skeffington was going to be. Fowler made sure of it. I still don't trust him. But if I am able to get to both Skeffington and Routely through Fowler, I might as well keep him alive. If I can get all three of them in a room together, that'll be even better. Three birds with one sword. Getting ready, I made sure I had my sword on me before giving myself one more glance in the mirror, catching something from the corner of my eye.

"Who's there?" I turned, my hand on the hilt of my sword.

Scanning the shadows, someone came out. They were wearing a poofy and long dress, similar to the ones I've seen the ladies wear here.

"Y/N?"

"Mizu," she smiled.

"W-What are you doing here? I thought you left Edo and went back with Ringo."

"Nope. I followed you."

"Why on Earth would you follow me?"

"You need someone to watch your back."

"I am more than capable of watching my own back, thank you very much."

"Mizu, this isn't Japan. You're in London."

"I am well aware of that."

"They have guns. You have a sword. They're technologically more advanced than you are right now. And right now," she pulled the dress back a bit, revealing a gun strapped to her thigh. "You're going to need all the firearms you can get. You will never raise a gun, I know that much."

"I did back at Edo when fighting Fowler."

"But did you shoot it?"

"No."

"Exactly. You use your sword and I will use the gun. Understood?"

I sighed. It's not like she can go back to Japan. I can't ensure her safety getting there either. So she had to stay with me. No. She has to stay with me. I can't afford to lose her.

"You stay beside me no matter what. Is that understood, Y/N?"

"Yes, Mizu."

"Good. I don't want you wandering anywhere without me."

She nodded her head. Letting out a sigh, I extended my arm out for her. Locking her one arm around mine, we walked out of the room and towards the ball down the street. It took a lot of negotiating and talking, but Fowler was able to ensure we got in without any trouble. This was definitely going to be an interesting night. I just hope it doesn't go to shit and one of ends up injured. If anyone was going to be injured, I was going to ensure it would be me. No one lays a hand on Y/N.

Stepping into the giant castle that held the dance, I found Y/N gasping from the corner of my eye. I couldn't deny it, this place was a sight to behold. A wonder in and of itself. It made the palaces and castles back in Japan look like a house. No wonder the white people wanted to have ballroom dances every so often. They had to get use out of it. Or else there would be nothing to fill this much empty space. There were people going around with trays in their hands, some drinks on them. Y/N was about to reach for one, but I stopped her.

"You're not going to like it."

"What do you mean?"

"We're not from around here. We need to blend in. And we won't blend in if we drink their drinks and be sick all night because of it. They don't drink sake. They drink some other form of alcohol that I am not familiar with."

"Come on, Mizu. We can't indulge ourselves every once in a while?"

"Back at home, yes. But we're not at home, are we, Y/N?"

"We'll be fine," she said, removing her arm from around mine and disappearing into the crowd.

"Y/N? Y/N?! Fuck!" I darted off into the crowd, trying to find her. It should be easy, since she wasn't anywhere near as tall as the people here.

Making my way through the crowd, I still kept an eye out for Skeffington. He was tall, so that was one thing that was going for me. Everyone here was tall, which didn't help. Almost bumping into everyone there, I eventually bumped into the right person. Well, one of them.

"Pardon me," a tall man said, smoothing out his suit.

Narrowing my eyes, it was him. It was Skeffington. Fowler described him perfectly and he matched every detail. The only thing that we had in common was our height, as Fowler stated back in Japan. Standing straight up, I stuck my hand out. Peering down, Skeffington shook it.

"Pleasure," I said.

"Night is wonderful, is it not?"

"I guess you could say that," I said, turning towards the crowd of people. He did the same.

"Who wouldn't love a dance tonight? It's a perfect night to do so," he chuckled, holding a glass of something that looked to be a yellow color.

"I'm sure there are other perfect nights," I said, trying to go along with him.

"There are, but tonight is especially perfect."

"What makes you say that? I think all nights are perfect."

"Well, there are reasons to celebrate."

"Celebrate what exactly?" I slowly turned towards him.

"Does there need to be a specific reason to celebrate? We're in London!" he turned towards me.

His breath reeked of alcohol and it made me want to gag. It wasn't the best smelling alcohol, I mean, what alcohol smells good?

"Go, my friend! Dance! Celebrate!"

He shoved me towards the dance floor, which I stumbled slightly. Getting my footing, since I was not used to my entire feet being covered, I slowly started to make my way around the crowd again, trying to find Y/N. Walking through the people on the dance floor, the live band playing started to get into a slower song, one that was obviously meant for couples. Even though I didn't take it to be that kind of ball. But again, this is London. Briskly walking off the floor, someone grabbed my wrist and pulled me back on. I thought it was Y/N, but it was someone else.

"Well, aren't you a dashing young man," the woman smiled.

"I-I--uhm," I struggled to find the right words.

"Come now, don't be shy," she said. "Come take a dance with me."

"I-I must decline," I respectfully pushed her away. "I am looking for someone."

"They can wait, dear. Have a drink! Dance. Stay a while."

"I-I really must be looking for my--"

"Hey!"

Marching over was Y/N. I let out a sigh of relief as she stood in between me and the other woman.

"Well, look who came barreling in," the woman smirked, trying to be funny.

"Step away from him," she slurred.

How many drinks did she have?

"You're too drunk, hon. You should probably head home, where it's safe. You don't want anyone taking advantage of you."

"You better back the fuck up," she swayed here and there.

"Y/N," I reached over and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her towards me. "Let's get going. You need to rest."

"Hold on, Mizu. I gotta teach this bitch a lesson."

"Excuse me?" the woman gasped.

I couldn't help but smile. Who knew Y/N was a protective drunk. I just hope she doesn't pull out the gun on this woman.

"Yeah. You heard me. You're a bitch. But not like those big ones that are scary. More like those little ones that are yappy. Annoying to listen and look at."

The woman scoffed, "I'll have you know--"

"'i'Ll HaVe YoU kNoW'," Y/N said in a mocking tone.

I placed my hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh at the situation.

"What are you laughing at?" the woman pointed a finger at me.

"I-I'm sorry," I said.

"Hey, don't point your finger at him. Only I can do that."

"What? You order around this stick of a man?"

"I'll have you know, Mizu is not a stick of a man. He's quite athletic."

"Oh, now why don't we have a look see," the woman stepped closer to Mizu.

"Hey, back off. No one touches him other than me."

"And does he like touching you when you're drunk?"

"Fuck yeah. We get down and dirty," she started to thrust her hips and some blush started to crawl onto my cheeks.

The woman was disgusted and walked off. Y/N turned to face me, perking up and smiling at me.

"Were you drunk?"

"No," she said.

"So you acted drunk?"

"Yep," she flashed a proud smile. "No one touches my Mizu."

A soft smile appeared as I took her hand, "And no one touches my Y/N."

The music started to slow down to a soft melody, one where someone could fall asleep to, or dance to. Still holding her hand, I bowed to her.

"May I have this dance, Y/N?"

"Of course, Mizu."

We walked out onto the dance floor and danced with the other people there. My one arm wrapped around her waist while her one arm wrapped around my neck, the tips of her fingers digging into the back of my hairline. Our other hands intertwined with one another's and we started to spin and sway with the music. She leaned her body into me, the side of her head nuzzling against mine. I smiled, closing my eyes, enjoying this moment together. It was rare for us to get any semblance of peace. Tonight was going to be that night where we relished it in. In each other.

#mizu x reader #bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #blue eye samurai

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ilyuu · 1 year

Text

texts. — late nights.

ft. venti, scaramouche & xiao. (separate.)

warnings : mentions of alcohol (venti), cursing (venti & scaramouche), xiao’s part is a bit long, a bit angsty in all of their parts.

venti.

you turn off your phone. with a sigh, shaking your head at yourself, you look to venti - he sits on the very edge of the curb, legs crossed. brows drawn, his eyes drowsily traces your face. and you do the same - the streetlight lit on him, holding a light to the utter exhaustion that touches his features. if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve simply brushed it off as his hangout or him not getting enough sleep as of late.

but you did know better. the haze in his eyes: the scent of alcohol sticking onto him; his aimless mutterings under his breath. it’d be a bit hard not to put two and two together.

“…c’mon.” you hold your hand out for him to take. “the others are waiting for you.”

with little to no hesitation, he holds your hand, fingers twined, as you tug him onto his feet. of course, he nearly topples, the asphalt of the road swaying beneath him, was it not for the tight hold you have on his hand.

“…’m sorry,” he mutters. “i… ‘m sorry… the other are… are waiting for me…”

he leans into your chest, slumping. your arms immediately wraps around his shoulder as to not let him lose his footing again. venti hums contentedly, a small smile on his lips. “you’re… you’re waiting for me…”

the night air, crisp, cool, brushes through with almost a carefree stride, stroking his hair and yours. he takes in a breath, sobriety dawning on him slowly, and finds himself nestled in the nook of your neck. as he tries to find his breath once more, his intakes and sighs tickles your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

(the feeling of his voice, his lips, almost on the shell of your ear seems strangely nice. you don’t want to look into that too much.)

“yeah.” you rub his back in slow, smooth motions. and sooner than later, his body, once tense, relaxes underneath your touch. “i am.”

scaramouche.

with the exception of a playing shuffling songs on the speaker, wisps of wind whipping against the car, a silence hung in the air. your hands on the steering wheel, keeping a steady hold on it, taps on the leather covering mindlessly. the road is almost perpetual, never ending, as it continues on and on to the point of the horizon. you look to the side from the corner of your eye - scaramouche… no, kuni stared out at the window, his eyes follows the streetlights that passes by like a breeze. you’d say he was bored was it not for the slight hum he voices when a song he favors comes on.

he rolls his head to his shoulder, eyes now on you. “how much longer?”

“not much.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“fine.” a small smile tugs on you. “an indeterminate amount of time then.”

“jackass.”

“little shit.”

brows furrowed, kuni turns his head back to the window, the blur of soft lights, cement, the sky coalesced apparently interesting to him. you steal a peek at him again, the window a reflection to you - the smile on you falls away at the look of pure resignation on him. the fire in his eyes that you saw just a few seconds ago has long been put out, all but a smoldering rue in them. he sighs as he lowers his face into the palm of his hand, and, as if aware of your eyes on him, tries to wipe away the expression on him.

“…just say we’re not that far,” he says, his voice seldom soft, and it startles you a bit at the sudden shift of his tone. it seems he’d noticed it as well as he tries to sound a bit more like himself for his next few words. “please tell me you’re capable of that at least, right?”

(it might be you, and you sort of hope it is, but you feel like he might be referring to someone else when he asked.)

“…we’re close.” you nod along with your words. “if anything, it’s at the next exit.”

“finally.” a pause. “…thanks.”

“huh?”

he bites his lower lip, something of a habit that he’d developed over the years, as he stays silent - when he’s like that, you don’t bother to try and tug out whatever he meant to say. though, even with the lack of light, you could see the tips of his ears slightly flush. “nothing. just… thanks.”

“…no problem.”

xiao.

after a few seconds, your phone stars ringing. when you press accept, it clicks, and xiao’s voice flows in - a bit awkwardly, as if unused to this type of thing.

“…hey.”

“hey yourself.”

on the other side of the line, you could hear slight shuffling in the background. with nothing but the night and silence as an accompaniment, his series of soft, light breathing almost… calms you. you lay your phone across your bedsheets, the screen hot from how long you’ve been using it, as you come to find yourself staring at the ceiling as well - though in return, all you see is the darkness that he speaks and loathes of.

“are just going to stay silent and listen to each other breath or…?”

he huffs. “i am not acquainted with this.”

“this?”

“…starting a conversation,” he whispers, and he turns again to the ceiling, the bed beneath him creaking along. “i do not know what you would find as an interesting topic, thus i don’t know what to say; as if words evade me.”

“oh.” you close your eyes for a bit. the world around you quietens in response, silent, but for his voice that sounds close yet far away. …wait, voice. “…how about your music?”

“my music?”

“yeah. you mentioned it once or twice, and i’ve always seen you stay after school in that music room on my way out. that and venti doesn’t exactly keep his mouth shut about it either.”

a slight laugh escapes his lips and there’s almost a childish tinge to it that you feel that you could get used to. “there’s… there’s nothing much to say about it.”

“but there’s something you’d like to talk about it still, right?”

an air of silence falls on the line. if you try hard enough, you could catch the sounds of sirens, fading in and out as does the wind. (something you shouldn’t think but you wonder how the colors play across his face.) that’s all it took, apparently, for him to shuffle himself out of bed, the sheets rustling, and walk elsewhere. that elsewhere becomes clear in a bit as he slides open the door, the silent cacophony of the night searing into your ears on your line.

“outside?”

“yeah.”

“try not to catch a cold or somethi—”

“some of my songs are… about falling in love. or the thought of being in love,” he interrupts, the words practically falling out.

“oh. …really?” you can’t keep the surprise out of your voice. “i can’t say i saw that coming.”

“not everyone can, no. and i hadn’t intended to either - the concept of love, adoration, desire somewhat eludes me. i’m not… used to it, one could say, and thus i do not have a sense of understanding as many others would. and yet it is all i write when i try to compose a song. the thought of falling in love is… is nice.”

“yeah, it is. who doesn’t want to love and feel loved in return?”

he hums. “…i realized i don’t have an understanding for a lot of things, or am not accustomed to said things. words, the ideal of love, none of these are familiar with me as i wished for myself to be.”

“but you’re trying, no?” you asked. you stare at the phone from the corner of your eye, still bright, still alive, with a photo of him on screen. (you wonder if he’s doing the same right now.) “you’re saying that you’re not good with words but you’re writing pages and pages of them for your music; that and it’s for the very feeling you say you can’t understand.

“you’re trying to familiarize yourself with words, with love, and all those other things you say you aren’t close with in your own way. you said it yourself, didn’t you? that you don’t have the sense of understanding as everyone else does, but that’s because you’re cultivating your own.”

“…”

the sirens in the background came back. and for a while, it stayed it that way, as you neither xiao said anything to mute it out.

you lift your arm up in the air, fingers splayed, aimlessly looking at the spaces - the darkness of your room long swallowed them.

he simply stared at the skies, stars lit, a bit reminiscent of the lanterns from somewhere far away.

maybe it wasn’t a bad thing at all.

because at least the two of you ended up talking, right?

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smau #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #venti x reader #venti x you #xiao x reader #xiao x you

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theharrowing · 3 months

Text

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

Hoseok knows the rumors.

Everyone in the industry knows the rumors.

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

Still, when Hoseok gets the call to audition for the magazine at which the elusive Min Yoongi works as the lead photographer, he does not hesitate to say yes. This is Hoseok’s dream, and he will be damned if he lets some industry hotshot stand in his way. He is an up-and-coming model who has worked with some of the hottest, most chaotic people in the business; surely, one man is not capable of hip-swishing into Hoseok’s life and throwing a wrench in all his plans.

📸 Hoseok x Yoongi

📸 word count: 18.7k

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

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

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

📸 written for the BTS Found Fest!

📸 thanks to @neoneunnajimin for beta reading.

📸 posted jan. 2024 | read on ao3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hoseok."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why the disguises?" he asks.

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

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

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

"Because you are," Hoseok mutters.

"Flirting is not the same as fucking."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yup," Hoseok responds snarkily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joon Baboon You didn't hear it from me…

Hoseok The magic words!!!

Joon Baboon But, yes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sends a quick response—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I am so fucking serious."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But if she were single—" Hoseok attempts.

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

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

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

"When?"

"Months ago."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

Hoseok nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So…" Hoseok attempts, "then what?"

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

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

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

"He was always in control?" Hoseok asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I could have picked you up by now."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi hums.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi makes no sound, so Hoseok continues.

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

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

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

"I did," Yoongi admits, voice low.

"I liked it, too."

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"See you tomorrow, Hoseok."

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

* * *

Despite the joyous occasion, Yoongi behaves rather coldly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Alright, sounds like a plan."

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

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

"Need a ride?" Seokjin asks.

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

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

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

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

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

Hoseok pulls out his phone and sends Yoongi a message—

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ready?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"New outfit?" Hoseok asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why?" Hoseok sighs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jung Hoseok-ssi."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Confusing. Frustrating. Demeaning."

"Distant," Yoongi provides.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You want to kiss me?"

Yoongi's lips twitch faintly. "Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, pretty Yoongi?"

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

"Please, what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In hindsight, Hoseok probably should have locked the door.

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

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

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

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

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

"Can I, uh…talk to you?" Seori asks.

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

"Please, I just want—"

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

"But Yoongi, I—"

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

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

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

"Wanna get out of here?" he offers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Kiss me," he whispers, elated as Yoongi obeys immediately, leaning close to lick over Hoseok's lips and then part his own.

Hoseok sucks Yoongi's bottom lip into his mouth, smiling as he whimpers. He licks over Yoongi's tongue, tasting remnants of heady caramel and something far sweeter and more personal. As if driven mad by the flavor, leans his body against Yoongi's to rut his hips forward.

"Bed," Yoongi mutters against Hoseok, to which Hoseok nods without disconnecting their lips. He is not ready to stop tasting Yoongi just yet. He wants to commit the flavor to memory.

Yoongi's hands find Hoseok's hips and grip tightly, working to both spur him on and calm him down. Hoseok parts the kiss with a heavy sigh and nods once more, resting his forehead against Yoongi's and allowing himself to return to earth.

Then he reaches for the cold glass of tap water and takes a long, slow gulp, hips still pressed against Yoongi with a slight twist to them. He drinks half of the glass down then holds it for Yoongi to have, and takes a step back to give both of them a little space.

Yoongi drinks then sets the glass aside, takes Hoseok's hand, and leads him through the apartment, past the large glass wall through which the sun sets into an inviting greyish blue with pink hues. The door straight ahead is open – the same place the door to Yoongi's studio can be found on the floor below – and Yoongi walks in and flips a switch that invites a soft purple glow.

Similar to the rest of the house, everything is shades of black, save for the bedding, curtains, and rugs which are forest green. Two of the walls are made of glass, allowing the light from the setting sun to pour in through sheer dark green curtains, and there is dark furniture throughout, but Hoseok's attention is on the bed – a wide mattress on a low black platform that is lifted inches from the floor, under which a purple light glows.

"You can change the color if you'd like," Yoongi offers, speaking directly into Hoseok's ear and fanning warm breath against his cheek.

Hoseok tugs Yoongi's hand toward the bed and says, "I bet purple would look nice against your skin," as they stop and face each other.

Hoseok begins to yank open Yoongi's white blazer, which absorbs the light into a pretty lilac shade, and Yoongi chuckles and takes over, very delicately removing the item and handing it to Hoseok.

"Leave it there," he instructs with a nod of his chin, and Hoseok turns to find a small armchair nearby, to the right of the bed, over which a black blazer rests. He drapes the new blazer beside the other and turns back to find Yoongi unbuttoning and untucking his white dress shirt.

With each inch of skin that Yoongi reveals, Hoseok feels his heart begin to race. He shrugs quickly from his hanbok top, tossing it in a heap onto the armchair, then yanks his tank top over his head and chucks it aside.

When his fingers reach the button of his shorts, Yoongi's large, knobby fingers stop his movements, pulling his hands away. Hoseok looks up from his interrupted task to find Yoongi shirtless and sinking to his knees.

"Let me do it," he insists.

Hoseok nods and swallows thickly, watching as Yoongi's knees are engulfed by a soft, dark green shag rug. Yoongi rubs his hands up Hoseok's thighs, causing a warmth to simmer in the pit of his tummy, and he breathes deep and slow, doing his best to maintain his composure.

As Yoongi yanks at Hoseok's shorts, pulling them past his knees, he sits high and wafts his breath against his black briefs, warm then cool on his growing erection. With his gaze directed at Hoseok's eyes, Yoongi nudges his nose and lips against him, taking deep breaths as if savoring his musk, and Hoseok reaches one hand to grip Yoongi's product-slick hair and give his head a rough tug.

Yoongi whimpers, and the sight of him on his knees, submissive and making such pretty sounds kicks Hoseok's need to tame him into overdrive. Yoongi reaches for Hoseok's waistband, but Hoseok shakes his head and says, "Hands at your sides."

With a gasp, Yoongi's eyes widen – pretty and endless depths of inviting brown. Hoseok tongues the inside of his cheek and grips Yoongi's hair a little rougher.

"You have to earn it."

"Earn it?" Yoongi responds almost sardonically, and Hoseok yanks at his head just enough to make him whimper and sigh.

"You heard me. Earn it."

"Please?" Yoongi tries, batting his long, dark lashes like a pretty little doll.

"Please, what?"

"Please let me taste you."

"Only good boys get to suck my cock, pretty Yoongi," Hoseok responds in a mocking tone. Yoongi's pupils react to his words, and Hoseok snickers. "Are you going to be a good boy for me?"

"Yes, Seok," Yoongi practically moans. "I'll be a good boy for you."

"Not just tonight," Hoseok says, tipping his head to the side and peering down at Yoongi with squinted eyes. "You're going to be good to me for as long as we do whatever it is that we are doing. No more miscommunications. No more half-truths."

"I'll be good for you," Yoongi insists, eyes wide and pleading.

"You're still my boss, so we will have to navigate that dynamic one day at a time," Hoseok continues, reaching his other hand to drag his thumb along Yoongi's bottom lip the way Yoongi did to him in his office. "As long as we are not at work, we are equals, and you will treat me as such."

"Yes, Seok," Yoongi mutters.

Hoseok gives his hair a tug and grits, "Louder," through his teeth.

"I'll be good to you, Seok," Yoongi's voice switches from coy desperation to firm insistence, deepening as he says, "Please let me be so good to you."

Hoseok's head spins. He nods and releases Yoongi's hair, then drops his arms to his sides and says, "One thing I like about you is your quick wit and sharp tongue…and I'm sure that is not the extent of what that pretty mouth can do."

Yoongi grins, then lifts his hands to paw over Hoseok's cock and grab for his waistband. Arousal soars through Hoseok – lava in his veins – and he does his best to keep his composure, whimpering softly while he holds firm eye contact with Yoongi.

That is, until he pulls Hoseok's briefs down, and Yoongi's gaze falls to his freed cock. His eyes widen, and he licks his lips as he sits high on his knees and shuffles a little closer. With slow strokes, Yoongi makes Hoseok dizzy, dragging against his foreskin before pushing it down, revealing a flushed head and length.

With a delicate flick of his bubblegum tongue, Yoongi laps up the precum that drips from Hoseok's tip, sending a shiver down his spine. Yoongi drags his lips over the tip and crown, gaze intently returning to Hoseok, teasing with feather-light touches.

Hoseok smirks down at the man – eager to knock him off his pedestal a little – and asks, "How many other pretty models have you dropped to your knees so easily for?"

Yoongi's eyes widen, burning with something Hoseok struggles to discern, and a scoff comes from between his lips. He seems incensed but so terribly aroused. Hoseok grins.

"That's what I thought," Hoseok grumbles bending as he grips Yoongi by the chin and tugs enough to make him sit even higher. He feels powerful and possessive. "This is all for me. Now, open."

As soon as Yoongi's lips part, Hoseok spits into his mouth. Yoongi's eyes widen further, and he keeps his mouth open as if he is waiting for instruction. His submissive side has Hoseok simmering with desire.

"You're so perfect, Yoongi," Hoseok praises just above a whisper. "So fucking perfect. Now put those pretty lips to good use."

Yoongi nods once – a shallow, quick movement – then wastes no time taking Hoseok's length deep into his throat. Hoseok feels Yoongi swallow and possibly begin to gag, but he is slow with the way he pulls back and sinks down, sucking with his lips tight around the tip each time, eliciting bursting waves of pleasure.

"Fuck, Yoongi," Hoseok groans, reaching to grip his hair with his right hand. He cannot believe this is finally happening. "Your mouth feels amazing."

Yoongi hums and moans, increasing his speed but never seeming rushed, and Hoseok's head spins as his arousal builds and builds. It has been far too fucking long since he has had someone so pretty down on their knees, and the sight alone of Yoongi's doll lips wrapped around him while tears pool around his delicate, long eyelashes builds his pleasure too fast.

"I won't last long," he whimpers. "Feels too good."

As if spurred on to push Hoseok over the edge, Yoongi swallows his cock deeper, holding it lodged in his throat until his face begins to redden and his eyes bulge. The sensation is exquisite, especially as Yoongi pulls back, mouth full of thick saliva, making the slide smooth as silk.

And again, Yoongi sinks down as deep as he can and holds Hoseok there, gaze trained upward despite the way his eyelashes flicker. Hoseok reaches with his free hand and gives Yoongi's cheek a delicate slap, then lower to cradle Yoongi's throat and feel himself buried deep from the outside.

"Holy fuck," he babbles, nodding. "Fuck, you drive me crazy, Yoongi. Such a good boy, perfect, perfect."

This time, when Yoongi pulls back, saliva pours from between his lips, and he uses both hands to stroke along Hoseok's length while he bobs his tightened lips just past the head, laving with his tongue.

Hoseok is overstimulated in a way he has never experienced from a blowjob, and his resolve crumbles in an instant.

"Gonna cum, fuck," Hoseok warns. "Can I cum in your mouth?"

Yoongi heavy-blinks and attempts to nod, lips and hands still working Hoseok over. Hoseok's entire body feels hot – set alight, threatening to combust.

"Fuck, fuck," Hoseok whimpers, trembling from pleasure that teeters just on the edge of insanity.

Yoongi stills his head, holding his mouth open and tongue flat while stroking Hoseok with both hands. The tip of his cock drags along Yoongi's pretty tongue, and with one more measured stroke, Hoseok releases, moaning and gasping, practically folding in half as his cum spurts in long ropes, painting Yoongi white.

Although the strokes slow, they do not stop. Yoongi's large, soft hands milk him of every last drop until Hoseok is gripping Yoongi's shoulders and he is begging him to have mercy.

"Fuck, Yoongi," he gasps, lowering to his knees, no longer able to hold himself up.

Yoongi's tongue continues to lay flat, cum and drool dripping down his chin, and Hoseok sits high and spits once more into his mouth before commanding him to, "Swallow."

Hoseok watches intently as Yoongi closes his lips and swallows his cum, then his hands are on him, lazily gripping at his throat and neck. He feels drunk with power and desire – feels ready to allow the blaze inside him to swallow both of them whole.

"On the bed," Hoseok commands.

Yoongi's face is flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, his once-style hair is fucked up and sticking out on the sides, and his lips are pretty kiss-swollen petals. He breathes slow and deep as he nods, eyelashes fluttering as if he too is coming down from a high.

Rather than stand, Yoongi turns haphazardly on his knees, gets onto his hands, and crawls. His white trouser shorts hug his plump round ass, swaying with each movement like a beacon of pleasure, and Hoseok crawls behind him, eyes never leaving his prize until they must – until Yoongi climbs up the platform bed and turns, sitting with his feet planted on the floor.

Hoseok crawls to Yoongi's shins, then sits high on his knees and uses his palms to spread his thighs. He licks his lips and reaches for Yoongi's button and zipper, but Yoongi grips Hoseok by the wrists and yanks.

"Come here, Seok."

Nodding, still feeling somewhat delirious, Hoseok gets up onto his feet just enough to crash down onto the low bed, caging Yoongi's legs as the man chuckles and crawls backward to the center of the mattress.

"I have an idea," Yoongi promises, rotating to scoot until his shoulders are against the dark headboard. He pats his legs and says, "Come here," while he hastily shoves his shorts and briefs down, and his voice is rougher than usual, no doubt from deepthroating.

For the first time since all of this has started, Hoseok gets a good look at Yoongi. His complexion is soft and supple against the dark bedding, and his body is a gorgeous blend of thin and muscular – similar to Hoseok, yet different. His shoulders are wide, his hands are large, yet he is knobby and slightly lanky, small against the large bed. Breathtaking.

The hair at the base of Yoongi's hard, leaking cock is trimmed low – an inviting patch of black against lilac-tinted skin. Hoseok leans close to kiss along Yoongi's hip and breathes in his musky-sweet scent, but before he can tease, Yoongi has both hands on Hoseok's cheeks and jaw, tugging him upward.

Hoseok lifts and wiggles beside Yoongi, who has slithered down into a lying position. "Kiss me," he groans, still pulling Hoseok by the face, forcing him to crash down against him, licking against his lips.

As Hoseok settles onto his side, Yoongi drapes a leg around Hoseok's hips and rolls their bodies together. Already, Hoseok's cock is becoming erect, and with each roll of Yoongi's hips, he feels hypnotized.

"Fuck, Yoongi," Hoseok groans, sinking low against Yoongi's chest to leave marks with his lips and teeth that will be hidden under clothing tomorrow. "You don't know what you do to me."

Yoongi lifts his hand to Hoseok's lips and rasps, "Spit," and Hoseok obeys, gathering saliva under his tongue only to trickle it into his palm. Then Yoongi reaches between them, engulfs both cocks in his warm grip, and thrusts.

"Oh, shit," Hoseok whimpers in tandem with a deep, needy groan from Yoongi.

Hoseok spits hastily into his own hand and reaches to engulf them further, then he sets a rhythm with his hips, pushing when Yoongi pulls and pulling when Yoongi pushes. Pleasure grips Hoseok tight, threatening to drag him into the hot, inviting depths of hell, and Hoseok whimpers as he leans into Yoongi, sucking his lips between his teeth.

The kiss is a sloppy gnash of teeth and tongues with nobody in control. Yoongi seems to be losing his composure quickly, and the more he moans and trembles against Hoseok, the more persistently Hoseok strokes their dicks.

Their rhythm is hypnotizing – a dance between two bodies so fluid and perfect, Hoseok has a lingering thought that perhaps the two of them were meant for each other. Their connection feels so intense, it scares the shit out of him.

"Seok," Yoongi whimpers, lower lip caught in Hoseok's teeth. "Close. So close. "Gonna—"

"In my mouth," Hoseok insists, releasing his hold on their cocks and haphazardly sliding down the length of Yoongi's body.

He is quick to sink Yoongi deep into his throat, wasting no time sucking as if his life depends on it. Yoongi stays on his side and grips onto Hoseok's hair, hips trusting, never losing their dizzying rhythm.

Hoseok can feel Yoongi pulsate against his lips and he swallows him deep, moaning and humming around him until Yoongi's hips tremble and he shoots his load straight into Hoseok's throat. Yoongi's voice is pitchy and broken, his body quakes with bliss, and Hoseok breathes through his nose, doing his best to swallow each drop without his gag reflex interfering.

Suddenly exhausted, Hoseok releases Yoongi's spent cock, gasping for air. It is messy the way Yoongi attempts to pull Hoseok's lips back to his, body bent in half while Hoseok stretches and strains until he finally finds the strength to crawl up to him and kiss him properly.

"Seok," Yoongi gasps against his lips, eyes wide and filling Hoseok's vision. "You're incredible. Nobody…" he pants, "nobody has ever made me feel this way."

Honeyed words taste bitter against Hoseok's tongue as he considers all the different times Yoongi must have used that line before. How many models did he sink his claws into similarly, only to drop without a care in the world? What is worse is that Hoseok almost believes him.

Yoongi holds Hoseok in place against him, lips lazily dragging, eager to kiss despite losing the strength to move. Hoseok's mouth moves on instinct alone, erection long forgotten to the brewing storm inside his head.

"Nap," Yoongi grumbles, body falling limp and relaxed around him. "Then food."

"Okay," Hoseok whispers as he reaches for the soft comforter on which they lay, folding it over them rather than bothering to attempt to crawl beneath it.

Yoongi smiles, drifting to sleep, and Hoseok leaves soft pecks against the tip of his nose and the apple of his cheek, eager to kiss and kiss and kiss. He wants to commit this moment to memory in the event that this is the last time.

As Yoongi's body becomes heavy as lead, lost to the firm grasp of sleep, Hoseok waits for him to lightly begin to snore. He waits, laying on his side and tracing each shape of Yoongi's beautiful face, shoulders, and chest with his eyes.

He waits and he waits until Yoongi rolls onto his back, limbs slipping away from Hoseok's nude body. And then he waits just a beat longer before he slowly, silently slips out from beneath the comforter, collects his clothing, and tiptoes into the living room.

It is still early in the night, and Hoseok stares out the window at the city below the hill, at the river in the distance, at the cars that drive by. He slips into his clothing, tiptoes to the front door, gathers his handbag and shoes, and, in the elevator, calls for a cab.

Over and over, Yoongi's voice plays in Hoseok's head. Nobody has ever made me feel this way.

Over and over, his pretty, tearful eyes and soft, kissable lips sear into Hoseok's mind, taking up permanent residence, threatening to drive him mad. Hoseok stares at his reflection in the elevator doors, unsure how he is supposed to feel.

He got it out of his system. He successfully fucked with the pretty man with the reputation for using people, and he slipped away in the night, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

But he does not feel satisfied. It is as if vines have snaked their way into his chest cavity and they squeeze, threatening to puncture his lungs with their thorns and steal his air.

He feels defeated. Deflated. He has accomplished his goal, yet he does not feel victorious.

Nobody has ever made me feel this way.

Those pretty words spoken in that raspy voice taunt him over and over, and Hoseok walks out into the chill night feeling emptier than before.

one more chapter left!!! and don't worry, these two idiots will have a happy ending, okay. i just have to drag you through the angst mud a little more because it's funnnn. 😍😍😍 apparently i can only focus on one bestie at a time, so i will do my best to bring Taehyung into the spotlight in chapter 4!

also i feel like it is silly to have described Yoongi living in an all black and grey space with my whole entire chest, but this is what i had in mind:

MORE COMING SOON!!! COMMENTS & REBLOGS WILL MAKE ME WANT TO WORK ON IT FASTER! LIKES ARE ALWAYS SO SO APPRECIATED!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!

tag list: @codeinebelle @dasexydevitt13 @fluffybuns69 @giriiboyy @idkjustlovingbts @itsmina29 @mgthecat @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki 📸 want to be added to this tag list for part 4? or the list for all of my member x member fics?? or everything i post??? or maybe this fic isn’t for you and you want to be removed???? comment or dm! i will make your dreams a reality.

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Showstopper is copyright theharrowing 2022 - 2024. no translations or reposting allowed!

#hoseok x yoongi #yoongi x hoseok #yoonseok #yoonseok angst #yoonseok smut #bts writers club #sope #sope angst #sope smut #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #hoseok angst #hoseok smut #bts angst #bts smut #fic: showstopper

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hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall · 3 months

Text

Sweet past - ch.3

Summary: You meet Ellie for the first time and see Sarah again after three years.

Pairing: dbf!Joel x reader

Warnings: mention of death, foul language, angst.

AN: This will be angsty for a while, so buckle up... And a slow burn soooo.... :D

Masterlist Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Source: Pinterest

“You are aware I'm 15, not 5?” He knew this was how she would react. Typical Ellie. But he knew that if he hadn't called, she would have given him hell for not letting her know he wasn't coming back for the night.

“I am just letting you know, kid.” He sighed and sat down. “I'm not sure what time I'll be back."

“That bad?” There were so many differences between her and Sarah; however, one thing that they both had in common was how emotionally alert they were.

“She's forcing herself to be strong." He sighed and closed his eyes. “She's always been like that. I don't want to push her. We got time, you know?” Ellie hummed, and Joel smiled softly at the teenager. When he discussed you with the girl, she was excited to meet you, but it was also her intention to tell Joel not to push you if you didn’t want to talk. She, after all, knew perfectly well what it was not to want to talk about things.

“Make her that omelet you always make us when we have a shitty day." He chuckled softly, but his heart skipped a bit at the protectiveness in the girl's voice, despite not meeting you yet. “I'll be fine here, so take care of her. Say hi from me.” And she was gone. Joel sighed, laughing quietly to himself. Every teenager is the same.

Joel Miller wasn't a man with all the answers. Far from it, most of the time he didn't really know what he was doing. Whether it was with Sarah, Ellie, or now with you, what he does know is that he will do whatever he can to take as much pain away from you as he is capable.

He never considered himself an aggressive man, either. Normally, he tried to be calm and steady, trying to think as logically as possible. It's not that he never took part in any fights. He was from Texas, after all, and Tommy was his brother. But even when the fights did occur, they were the last possible option. He tried to always follow his head rather than his heart. Emotions were never the answer for Joel.

He tried to take logical steps when he heard about Sarah being bullied in primary school; he didn't kill her first boyfriend, who broke her heart; and he definitely did not punch every couple out there that rejected Ellie. And yet, he got physical with his best friend the second he hurt you. Something broke in Joel that day. He tried to get his friend straight after his wife died, but he never felt like he had a right to do anything. Sure, he was the family's friend, but that was it.

He has hated himself for that since then. He hated that he didn't do anything sooner. He blamed himself for your leaving. If he had done something sooner, maybe your father would have woken the fuck up and you would not have to go through so much pain. And yet all he did was punch his best friend after he dared to lay his hand on you.

He stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, seeing you staring into nothingness. He knew you were suffering the same kind of pain he did. If not even bigger, after all, Joel was able to see your dad's change. He has been here with him for the past three years. He didn't blame you, and he wasn't even sure if he could ever truly understand your pain. This was why he decided that he would make sure that you would not have to live through it anymore.

And so he hugged you and let you lean on him. He has taken care of you like he wanted to since your mother died. This is why, when you asked him to stay, he did lay next to you, letting you use him to repel all the nightmares.

***

You weren't sure you remembered when the last time was when the smell of someone else's cooking woke you up. What was also surprising was the fact that you felt like you had a good night's sleep. And it hasn't happened in a very long time, for sure.

You frowned, not really remembering how you got into bed or why the hell you slept with your clothes on, but this wasn't really important now. Your stomach was pulling you into the kitchen, where that amazing smell was coming from. And what you noticed was something you thought you'd never see with your own two eyes.

“Is the world ending?” He turned, raising his brows at you. “Joel fucking Miller in the kitchen. Cooking!"

"Keep running that smart mouth, and you won't get anything.” You raised your hands in the air in surrender and walked towards the coffee machine, but he stopped you, pointing at the table. “I got it; sit down. You still drink orange juice after coffee?” You nodded, blushing softly at the fact that he remembered. “You taught Sarah that, and now I always have to have that fucking juice at home when she visits.” He grumbles, and you can't help but laugh. A sweet, quiet laugh he adores so much.

“It's healthy for you!” You tried defending yourself, thanking him when he got your coffee. Already with milk and sugar. Your heart skips a beat at the thought that he knows you so well.

“That shit has more sugar in it than whatever the hell Sarah drinks at Starbucks.” You rolled your eyes but smirked while drinking the juice. "Trouble,” he muttered, pushing the plate with an omelet on it. “I make it for girls when they... well, don't have the best of times in their lives.” He noticed you blinking rapidly, not to let the tears fall, and all he wanted was to drag you into his arms and never let go.

You were a family, after all.

“It's actually amazing!” You exclaimed and happily devoured the breakfast.

“Stop sounding so surprised. I needed to learn how to cook someday... “ He mumbled, and you raised your brow at him.

“Does that mean you can cook anything else?”

“Shut up and eat your omelet!” You chuckled at that, and he forced himself to ignore the skip of his heartbeat at the sound of it.

The silence was just right. There was no awkwardness there, and he was surprised to feel natural. Domestic in some way, but he liked it. He wanted you to be comfortable with him, and this moment showed that despite the time difference, you haven't seen each other, he is still someone special to you. Or at least he hoped for that.

“Joel?” He tilted his head, hearing a change of tone in your voice. He was happy to see you ate everything off, but something was weird about the air now. All of a sudden. “I want this to be small. Just family. Just us…” His eyes widened for a second, but he nodded, taking your hand in his. “I will take care of everything; will you let me?” Even at times like that, you were considerate of him and his feelings. “I want it done as soon as possible. It may sound awful, but the longer I wait, the more I can't live with myself thinking that…”

“It's all up to you. It was your father, sweetheart. I will help you if you need me, and stay away if you want to do it all by yourself.” You nodded, and deep down, Joel thought there was something more bothering you. But Ellie's voice nudged him not to push it.

***

It took three days to make everything work. Apparently, when the whole ordeal isn't big, this can be taken care of by hand. You didn't know if it was something your dad would want, but you didn't really have anything else to give. You decide to bury him next to your mother so they can be together forever. After all, you assume this was what he really wanted.

You were in your kitchen, preparing food for tomorrow when you heard your name called from the house entry.

“In the kitchen!” you yelled back, cleaning your hands. You turned around to welcome Joel but stood there frozen. There, in the middle of your kitchen, stood a teenage girl. She couldn't be more than 5’3”. Her auburn hair was tied in a ponytail. Intelligent, pale green eyes were staring at you. There was some mischievousness in them, but also softness that reminded you of Joel a bit. Her fair skin was decorated with freckles and a scar on her right brow. She was a beautiful girl. “Hi!” You finally said, smiling softly at the girl. You cleaned your hands onto the apron and extended it towards her.

“Hi! I'm Ellie," she introduced herself, grabbing your hand. A small, awkward smile appeared on her still-a-bit childish face. “Joel assumed it would be better to introduce myself before you know..."

“Ellie!” Joel growled at the girl, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“It's fine!” You chuckled, pulling her down to sit down at the table. “I'm happy to finally meet you.”

“Really?” She sounded surprised, and you frowned, hearing the actual surprise in her voice.

“Of course! After what Joel told me about you, I couldn't wait to finally get to know you." Her eyes shone with innocent happiness from your words, and from the corner of your eyes, you could see Joel whispering a very quiet ‘thank you’. “I am preparing some food for tomorrow. I'm happy to get some rest and eat something. You guys hungry?”

“Starving!” Ellie groaned loudly.

“You're always hungry!” Joel scoffed, taking his phone out of his pocket. “Is Chinese fine?”

“Let me pay, Joel. You paid for the pizza, and you did the shopping for me.” You were about to take out your card when his hand landed on yours.

“Put that away, before I get mad.” You raised your brow at him in a challenging matter, but let it slide. This time. You will get him for that the next time.

“So tell me, Ellie, how is Mr. Grumpy doing?” Seeing the mischievousness in her eyes and the smirk, you knew you would find common ground with the teenager very quickly.

***

“How are you holding up?” You still cannot believe how much Sarah has changed in the three years since you last saw her. She wasn't a teenager anymore. She was a young woman, a student. You didn't know her mom, but the more you looked into her eyes, the more you saw Joel in them.

“Been better. But hell, it's been worse as well,” you shrugged, leaning your head on her shoulder. The ceremony was over. It was short, but it was nice. The pastor prepared a nice speech, and you were surrounded by family. Your small family. And there was something in you that made you happy that your parents were together again.

You have never seen anyone as in love and happy as they were while together. You always laughed that they acted like those teenagers in love. It was sickly sweet. You envied them for that.

“Tired.” You added after a while, and Sarah held your hand, rubbing it softly. “I'm not sure I'm even hungry.” She chuckled, especially when Joel went to the kitchen to heat up the food, taking Ellie with him. You were sure he kind of felt that it would do you good to spend some time with Sarah. Just Sarah.

“You did well for all of this," she murmured, leaning her head on yours. Sarah loved you like a sister. Despite the age difference, you were always close. When you left, you still asked her how she was doing, but something was different. It's like that situation with your father has completely shifted the way you were. And despite all this, you still managed to stay the same kind-hearted person she remembers you for. “What's the plan now?” She felt you tense for a second, hoping she didn't spook you too much with that question.

“Since your dad called me, nothing was really going according to plan.” You sighed and straightened, pulling your head off Sarah's shoulder. “I took two weeks off from work, hoping that it would all work out, but..."

“There's still time then,” she interjected, shrugging, making you raise your brow. “It hasn't even been a whole week yet. Give yourself some time.”

“You sound like Joel; you know that!?” She laughed at that, looking at her dad, who was saying something to Ellie. “How are you with that whole Ellie situation?” She smirked at your change of topic, but let it slide. You were never truly good at opening up.

“Ellie's a spitfire, but damn, it's hard not to love her, you know?” You smiled at that, happy to hear that Sarah wasn't feeling left out in all of this. “Not to mention, I like to know that the old man isn't alone when I'm at uni, you know."

“He's not that old, you know!” She looked at you and sighed, rolling her eyes. “He's not even 40 yet.”

“He will be this year." You chuckled at that and shook your head. “Can I be honest with ya?” You nodded, and she smiled sadly. “I don't know if ya want to hear it or not, but your dad and my dad... they were able to make up. Your leaving was like a slap in the face for your dad, and he got his shit together. But despite all of this, I always felt like Dad was bearing some heavy burden on his shoulders. I asked him once what it was, but you know him," you hummed, frowning slightly. “I think he feels guilty for what happened. I feel that as well.” You turned around to Interject, but she put up her hand, asking you silently to let her finish. “I always thought that I couldn't do anything because I was a kid. I was a stupid teenager, but I realize now that I was just afraid of seeing you fall apart. As long as you were standing tall, I thought everything was OK. But I now understand that we, as your family, should have done something sooner. If I feel that way, I can't imagine what that stubborn mool feels.” She took your hand and looked at you with teary eyes. “So I will ask you for the last selfish thing. Talk to him. Have the conversation you two probably need but have tried to avoid. If there is anyone who can take that burden off his shoulders, it is you. And he is the only one who knows you and sees the true you. So promise me that you both will talk."

“You, Sarah Miller, are the least selfish person.” You squeezed her hand and smiled encouragingly, hoping it would ease her mind. “I'm sorry that we made you worry. I never intended for this, whatever that was, with my father to have such an impact on you two. I guess I was trying to ignore the fact and didn't want to see how it would have affected my father's best friend.

“I didn't mean..." you chuckled softly at her awkward tone.

“I know you didn't. You just made me realize that saying goodbye to my father is not the only thing I need to do.” She smiled and nodded, looking back, when you heard both Ellie and Joel arguing about something. The tired look on his face made you chuckle. Unaware of Sarah's gaze traveling between you and her dad.

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedrohub #pedrostories #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic

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verystrxxwberry · 16 days

Note

Hello! I hope you’re doing well! I noticed your requests were open so I was wondering if you could write a headcanon for Eldarya about MC/Erika or whatever you want to call her giving the ANE guys attitude? Like being upset for whatever reason (that doesn’t necessarily involve them) and them having to handle her in some way? Anyways if you don’t feel like it don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re back!

ELDARYA; ANE routes when you’re upset

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𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: sfw, ANE routes when you are angry/sad/unhappy. ↝ 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hi, I am doing great, thanks for your words and request! I hope you enjoy these headcanons <3 and I am sorry if there is any spelling mistakes...

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.

NEVRA

The moment he greets you and you simply ignore him or answer in a not very nice way, he becomes worried and wonders if you had any trouble in your day. If he didn’t do anything to make you upset, he is aware of that and doesn’t tend to overthink. In fact, he goes after you and sits besides you, placing his hand on your back.

He got used to dealing with Karenn being upset while growing up, so he knows how to be patient in these situations.

He stays there with you and caresses your back. “What happened? Your pretty face seems mad.” He talks with a low tone to not stress you even more. And even if you don’t want to talk about it, he stays there unless you ask otherwise.

Once you explain to him what happened, he won’t act unless it’s a very unfair thing. He cares about you and he knows you are strong enough to do things on your own. He can give you advice and cheer you up to act, because come on, babe, go eat them up. In case it is something very unfair, don’t worry, he is gonna be there to eat them up too.

If it was his fault: The moment he realized you wouldn't like one of the things he did, he already started planning how to apologize. He can read your expression pretty well, and he feels bad when you look so drained. Why did he do certain things that he knew you wouldn't like? Ah, that's simply because he wasn't thinking. He was simply impulsive.

Don’t try the silent treatment with him because he is gonna be so needy for your attention at some point that he will cross his arms and sit in your lap -no matter if he crushes you- or lay down his head there and say “are you willing to forgive me?”, “come on, chill a bit and let’s talk”, “I won’t move until that moody face disappears.”

He is capable of pinching your cheeks to bother you, but it can only go two ways… good or bad…

He will not let you go until you feel better.

LANCE

He is genuinely confused and overthinks the situation. Why didn’t you accept his cheek kiss?- He has already done too much bad stuff to allow himself to hurt the one he loves the most in his current life. He’d be like “Uh, what did I do..?”

If it’s his fault, he is gonna search for the best way to make it up to you, because he has a mask to keep in front of others and being in a tense situation with you makes him not be able to focus on work. At first, he would give you time to be alone and not be so invasive. He probably did a mental speech of what to say to fix it for the last few hours, and when he feels prepared, he kneels in front of you and grabs one of your hands. “Darling, could you please listen to my words for a bit…? I want to be honest…” His voice is softer than usual, you can even feel that the authority and roughness he always speaks with disappears and there is a vulnerable side of him showing at this moment.

In case you forgive him, you would notice how he leaves a few kisses on your hand as thanks, without saying anything else. In case you do not forgive him.... well, he would leave a timid kiss on your hand and mumble "It's okay, I understand. I'll be patient." Although inside he's truly impatient to know if you forgive him....

He'll never do whatever he did to make you unhappy again.

If it’s someone else’s fault, he is going to talk with the person that made your day worse, or to reassure you with a hug -because he doesn’t know how to comfort too well with his words-. Put him on a leash because if he finds out that someone has done something bad to you, he won't hesitate to have a 'serious conversation' with them.

LEIFTAN

Being your soulmate, he can feel the anxiety that has formed in you at the moment when what has upset you happens. Even if you are far away, he is already thinking about what he will do when he sees you. Maybe you need your space, or maybe you'd like him to be there to calm you down.

Very patient, he has had to deal with Miiko's and Lance's anger many times -although sometimes they would get on his nerves, but Leiftan knows how to keep some serenity and calm so that things don't escalate to more-. So, he will listen to you and then give you the advice you need.

And don't be afraid, because whether it's his fault or not, Leiftan will never judge or devalue your reasons for feeling bad. Whether it's because of some insecurity of yours, some accumulation of stress or something, he's going to nod his head and let you let it go. You don't have to be ashamed of feeling negative emotions.

If it is his fault, it is most likely a misunderstanding or some minor action of his that has accumulated with the stress you were already carrying. He has no problem apologizing from the bottom of his heart and clearing up anything that was misunderstood. In case it was something external, Leiftan will be able to advise you.

And after speaking to you sincerely, he would lean towards you to kiss your head and caress your shoulder gently. "I encourage you to be more direct with your thoughts and not let them accumulate like this. When you burst out, you can end up hurting yourself and others, and you don't deserve to carry that pain alone by yourself." She would explain in almost a whisper, while pressing little kisses on your head and shoulders.

MATHIEU

He is concerned and a little bit paralyzed, not knowing how to act. He takes a deep breath. He is not used to dealing with his partner being like this. He approaches and hugs you from behind and asks “Have I done something to upset you?”, notoriously worried.

Mathieu genuinely doesn’t know what he did if it was his fault, so you should refresh his memory if it was the case.

And man, a pout appears on his face, feeling guilty of making you upset. "Oh, jeez... Forgive me." And his arms wrap around your waist, hugging you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. The most likely thing that bothered you about him was dealing with all his energy at some bad time, because Mathieu can be intense with his games and pranks. There are times when even if you tell him to stop his prank, he can keep it up, and many times throughout his life he has found himself in the situation of having annoyed someone by his explosive energy of happiness.

To cheer you up, he would leave you alone for a while while he goes to prepare your favorite food. And suddenly, from behind you would be caught by an arm that would drag you to bed. In a matter of seconds you would be wrapped in a blanket that surrounds your whole body except your face, and in your lap a bowl of your favorite food. Mathieu would hold you between his legs, letting you rest your back against his chest and saying. "Even if you are angry, have this delicacy as an offering of your forgiveness, your majesty..."

He would just stay there, hugging you silently -except if you bring up a topic of conversation- while you enjoy your meal. He will be happy to see you enjoying it, and even more, when you forgive him he will be very excited.

If it were for an external cause, his response would be "Oh, honey, I know the world is an unfair place...but let's try to cheer you up now and we'll figure out how to deal with it later." He's not much of a counselor, but he does know how to distract you from whatever negative situation you find yourself in.

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#eldarya #eldarya headcanons #leiftan #nevra #lance #valkyon #ezarel #mathieu #headcanons #beemoov #: ̗̀➛ alex's eldarya hcs!

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