#it has gotten actively harder to ask for help or even complain when things in this area don't go well

[r0b0-writes]

hurt/comfort B for the musical nerds trio?

B- Bedridden - How do they behave when sick?

I am rubbing my gritty little hands all over this

[i overindulge in my ramblings, forgive me]

[Sweet] - Sweet's the type to insist that they're fine even though they are definitely not. They'll try to work past the fatigue until Cap'n or Cakes (usually Cakes), drags them from the shop. (Cap'n literally will just drag them, Cakes will hold/carry them). After Sweet realizes that there's no escaping he'll give in. Maybe... he is tired after all?

He'll lay down wherever he's been taken. Can't fight that feeling much longer. He's more compliant with Cakes than he is with Cap'n. Cakes can easily smile and tell them to 'sit up, it's time for medicine~!' While Cap'n sorta walks in and is more like, 'y'know you wouldn't have to take this if you just listened to us.' It's a mix of "don't dote on me" and "I don't want to be a bother" for them.

[Cap'n] - The only one who is actively clingy and wants to be doted on. He'll deny everything after the fever's worn off, but he's constantly asking for company during his illness. He doesn't like to be alone, even if he's sleeping. K_K or Sweet might cuddle up (over the blankets) just to help him get some shut-eye. He'll ask for his favorite foods and drinks, using this as an opportunity to annoy Sweet (just a little) and to keep them coming back. Probably has terrible fever dreams that leave him feeling worse than before. He'll need a few minutes to collect himself before going back to bed.

Now, he will try to do things himself. He's a big, tough guy! He doesn't need them for everything! This usually fails. Sometimes even pouring a cup of milk is too much for his fatigued arms to manage. He wants to be tough in these moments, but he's constantly teetering between "take care of me" and "I can take care of myself."

[Cakes] - Arguably the hardest to help. It is a master of disguising its ailments or pain. They genuinely don't mean to be so ignorant of their own needs. They just... can't seem to remember when to tell. Things keep happening. Sweet wants to go somewhere? He'll tell them after. Oh, Cap'n wants to go shopping now? He'll tell them after. Oops, out of milk. He'll tell them when he gets back.

It's not until it's visibly worn, visibly sick, that the other two take it to the bed. There's been a few times where K_K might even just pass out. He's on his way to tell them and all he can get out is a feeble, "guys, I don't..." and his legs are already unstable. Sweet and Cap'n have gotten really good at noticing the signs of when it's sick.

Once in bed, K_K's pretty compliant with whatever Sweet or Cap'n says. It doesn't complain and is incredibly thankful. Doesn't make any requests from the other two, either. It just happens that Sweet and Cap'n usually rub his back or lay with him until he's fallen asleep.

The worst part is when K_K starts to feel better but isn't quite cured yet. It still takes the medicine and everything, but it's a bit harder to sit down and stay still. That's when they start to insist that they're fine, meanwhile, their legs are still a little unsteady beneath them.

#have I thought about this a lot before? you ask #uhh... no. no. what gave you that idea? #sweet cap'n cakes #deltarune #hurt/comfort my beloved #[r0b0.hdcns] #[r0b0.respond]

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 34

Man these parts are getting harder and harder to churn out. A lot of plot points converging and real life ramping up. Hopefully you all enjoy this. Please comment your thoughts on the chapter. And if you really liked it, Reblog it. Thats the best way to get others to see it. Also, Please let me know your thoughts. Your comments fuel me.

(Master Post)

_____________________________________________________________

Masquerade surveyed the classroom. Her former classmates now her masked servants. It was fitting how they were all silent. Before, they listened to her because she told them exactly the things they wanted to hear, now they listened because she had power over them. It was kind of poetic in a way.

She looked across the classroom, she realized that there seemed to be more people missing than she initially realized.

“We are missing someone. Aside from Marinette, who is missing?”

The controlled classmates looked amongst themselves. Trying to figure out who was the one that was not in the class.

“Is it Chloé?” Miracular inquired, trying to answer her master’s request.

The akuma looked around.

“Huh… Oh yea, she isn’t here. Well she isn’t important. I was thinking someone else.” Masquerade answered. She looked to her most recently made akuma servant.

The Bubbler, the akumatized version of Nino stood motionless. As if he was not registering what was going on.

“Bubbler? Do you know who is missing?”

The multicolored akuma said nothing. Not even looking in the direction of the mask maiden.

“Bubbler! I order you to answer me!” She commanded with fiery rage.

The akuma turned to face his master, now responding.

“Adrien is missing.” The bubbler answered, his voice robotic and as emotive as a speak and spell.

“So, Adrien isn’t in the room. What a shame. I was planning on turning him into my handsome little knight.”

Masquerade thought for a moment.

Has Adrien been akumatized? Lila wasn’t sure she had ever seen or heard about him getting akumatized. She knew that the class had pretty much gotten hit at least once or twice at some point from what she had heard and read from the ladyblog. But if that goody-goody Marinette hadn’t been akumatized, Adrien likely hadn’t been akumatized either.

“Alright my servants! We have a new mission. I want you to lock this school down! No one is allowed in or out. Anyone you find, bring them to me. If they can be akumatized, then they are joining our cause.”

“Time breaker. Guard the perimeter outside of the school. Anyone outside of Ladybug and Chat noir trying to get in. Tag them, but only if they are suspicious of what’s going on. Stay hidden otherwise.”

“Timebreaker nodded and began skating out of the room in a rush.

“Horrificator, once Timebreaker is outside, seal all the exits in the main building.”

The masked monstress nodded and sped out of the room.

“Dark Cupid, Stoneheart, Princess Fragrance, Miracular and Reflekta. I want you to split up check all of the rooms and bring me potential akumas.”

The five akuma nodded and made their way out the door.

“Gamer and Robostus. I want you to hack into the airwaves. I want access to every Electric device in Paris when I give you the signal. But make sure to be subtle. I don’t want anyone to know about us until I tell you.”

The two nod and start working to get that ready for her.

She focuses her attention to the bubble making akuma that was giving her problems earlier.

Considering how hard it was to break him down, it was understandable. She had saved him for last for a reason. Because he was the hardest one to crack.

He was a relatively calm individual, able to keep a level head. But even he had his weakness. His confidence. Once that was shaken, seeing his entire class taken, knowing his girlfriend was under her control, he couldn't resist another moment. In a way, it was the most satisfying charm on her bracelet.

“Now Bubbler, you are going to go and locate Marinette and Adrien for me. Put them in a bubble and bring them to me. Help that girlfriend of yours.”

The bubbler nodded yes despite severe shaking. Seems even now he is trying to resist the control of the mask.

“Troublesome, but it is only temporary. He will break soon enough.” Masquerade mused to herself.

She looked at the near empty room with contempt. This was hardly a place where she could exact her vengeance. It was so… lame. Though a thought occurs as she realized who she had left standing at attention without orders.

“Evillustrator, I have a special request for you.”

________________________________________________________

“What is this?” Chloé screeched. “My daddy bought me the best phone plan in the city. How can I not have service right now?!”

The nurse felt a chill run down her spine. Could the akuma block out phone signals? Is that why there is no attention being given to the school? How could they call for help? How would anyone know of the akuma attack? Would Ladybug and Chat noir be able to help them?

The nurse started to feel herself going pale, she was just supposed to be a school nurse. Worst thing she needed to deal with was a scraped knee or give a kid an ice pack. Now she has a woman that collapsed on the bed and an akuma that is somewhere in the school. She had just moved to Paris a few months ago. It was her dream to live in the city of love, get her career going, find a nice guy, and just live the good life. But no one told her that supervillain attacks would be so personally connected to her situation? She had heard about this crap in New York and in America. But Paris? It was too much. What if Ladybug and Chat noir didn’t fix everything? What if this was where her story ended. What if…

“Hey!”

The nurse turned to her attention to the voice. It was the brash blonde teen that was complaining.

“You look like you’re going to pass out. Just a heads up, I am not taking care of you.” Chloé commented.

Angela felt her face heat up with annoyance.

“Listen you brat. I don’t have time to deal with your attitude. I have a woman that is out cold from exhaustion in a building with a hostile akuma.”

“Good, at least you aren’t going to faint. I don’t need any more whinny women fainting on me”

The nurse paused, did the girl say that just to help her not succumb to the grim situation?

Chloé started making her way to the door.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“You already got your hands full with the annoying assistant. I need to make a call to daddy. So, I am going to head out the building and try there. Try not to get ripped apart by an akuma, I still need more ice when I get back.”

Angela blinked. This girl wasn’t scared of the akuma. She was actually going out to do something reasonable. If she could call for help, it would mean that this whole thing blows over.

“Okay, I’ll stay here. Be safe.”

“Yea whatever.”

Chloé headed out the door.

Angela felt a ghost of a smile grace her face.

‘Maybe that girl isn’t a complete brat after all.’

__________________________________________________

The shapeshifting sentimonster growled as it smacked the locker. It lost both primary targets. And worst of all, Ladybug appeared to make this even harder. Masquerade needed to hear about this.

“Master, Marinette and Adrien have escaped my sight.”

The sentimonster heard a sigh of disappointment from the other end.

“It is fine Simularé, They wont be able to escape the school anyway. They will be found soon enough. If anything, this is a blessing in disguise. Having them be the last targets will have them bare witness to how devasting it will all be.” Masquerade answered. “Any news on Ladybug and Chat noir?”

“That’s the other bad news. Ladybug arrived, I am assuming that’s how Marinette managed to escape, and ladybug also took Adrien away as well. No sign of chat noir. But if you know one is here, the other is likely soon to follow.”

There was a brief moment of silence, as masquerade mulled over the information she had received.

“Actually, that works out well for us. Meet up at my location, I have the other students out looking for them, I need your power for something more important.”

“Yes master.”

Simularé shifted back into its phantom form, moving quickly down the hallway to obey her master’s request.

Just as it left, Ladybug popped out of a nearby locker. Relieved it didn’t notice.

“That’s not good, Masquerade likely got everyone in the classroom.” The red heroine said aloud.

She activated her communicator and tried to contact chat noir. But there was no sound.

“Damn it. No signal. Lila likely cut the communication as soon as she realized it.?”

“No worries Buggaboo, I happen to be on site.” A voice called out.

Chat noir jumped out of another locker to reveal he was there.

Ladybug felt a bit of relief at her partner’s appearance. She could tell he felt the same. Better a situation with two heroes.

“Been here the whole time?” The spotted heroine asked her cat crimefighting comrade.

“Just arrived a few minutes ago, I figured something was up, so I decided to take a quick peek. Cat curiosity and all that.”

“And you assumed it was with Collège Françoise Dupont?”

“It seemed like a solid guess.”

“Considering the track record, that is reasonable.” Ladybug conceded.

“Ever wonder why it is always this school and never any of the other schools? Paris is a big city. You would think Hawkmoth would decide to branch out to the other schools in the city.” Chat noir inquired as they started walking down the hall.

“I assumed its just a coincidence.”

“Shot in the dark, maybe he has a kid that goes here. He is pretty old” Chat noir dissed.

“I can’t imagine anyone that would want to date Hawkmoth.” Ladybug joked.

“What about the blue lady? She seemed crazy enough.”

“And now that image is burned in my mind. Thanks kitty.” Ladybug sarcastically commented. “Despite the mental scarring, I am glad you got here. Seems a repeat offender got herself an upgrade in the akuma powers department.”

“Lila.”

“How did you know?”

“I was reading the ladyblog, Alya did great work on that article.” Chat noir praised. He mentally applauded his quick thinking.

“Right, kind of the reason I felt the need to keep an eye on this place. But sadly, I was too slow.” Ladybug responded a tad gloomy.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. We will finish this akuma before lunch.”

Ladybug heard a footstep from the end of the hallway.

“Get down!”

Ladybug tackled the cat hero down. Just narrowly avoiding a neon pause symbol, which now suck on the wall.

“Looks like Lila has been busy.” Chat noir noted as he turned his face to the direction of the attacker.

Ladybug looked at the akuma. The white mask covering her friend’s face. Lady Wifi was back.

“Alya…”

The two heroes got into a fighting stance and prepared to take down this controlled akuma.

________________________________________________

The halls were empty and lifeless as the two visiting teens made their way cautiously down the halls.

“Oddly quiet in here.” The fencer commented. “What do you think Luka?”

“Well last time we entered a place with an akuma in it, it was brimming with armored minions. Maybe this akuma has more stealth?” The Musician commented. “So, I don’t think you will be fighting as directly as you are use to Kagami.”

Kagami nodded at that, not exactly happy or sad regarding that remark. Her plan was to see if she could help her friends get out of the building, grab her textbook, and get out. She wasn’t really that interested in fighting a superpowered foe at this moment in time.

The two ceased speaking when they heard approaching footsteps.

“Someone’s coming.” Luka noted.

The two duck into the nearest room.

The two stayed close to the door as they listened to the sound of the approaching figure.

Kagami dropped to the floor silently as to check and see if she could get a visual.

She could only see what appeared to be costume boots of a larger figure. Which made the expert fencer believe it was not friendly.

The figure stopped, looking at the door. The two teens felt their neck hairs stand on edge as they did their best not to make a sound.

After what felt like an eternity, the figure passed the door without checking. Once the sound of his footsteps could no longer be heard, they let out a sigh of relief.

“That was way too close for comfort.”

“Agreed. I would prefer a direct confrontation next time, much less nerve-racking. “

The two carefully open the door and exit the room.

“Seems we found the akuma.” Luka commented. “Now we just need to avoid it and.”

“You mean akumas.” Kagami corrected.

“Akumas?”

Kagami tilted the boys head to look in the same direction she was looking, and sure enough she saw a rather large rock like creature walking the halls.

“Oh… well that is bad.”

Kagami pushed him back into the room and closed the door. Locking it before the rock giant could notice them.

“I’m surprised.”

“By the fact there is an 8-foot-tall rock beast outside?”

“No, by the fact you didn’t try to fight it.”

“I don’t have a weapon.” Kagami replied flatly.

Luka raised a brow at the comment, unsure if the fencer was serious or not about fighting that thing if she had a foil.

“Is something wrong?” A third voice came from behind them.

The two teens turned around, preparing for the worst. Though they were relieved to see it was just an old janitor… in a Hawaiian shirt. Despite his odd dress, he did give off a kind aura. One of a trusting old grandpa.

They noticed that the room seemed to be a sort of teacher’s lounge, with a small counter with a sink and cabinets. As well as a fridge to keep food cold and stored. A place in the school where teachers would come to get a quick coffee or store their lunch.

“Oh good, you aren’t an akuma.” Luka sighed with relief.

“An akuma?” The old man asked.

“Yes, it is very dangerous out there right now. There are multiple villains outside. I would recommend staying put while we go out there and help handle things.” Kagami explained.

“Quite bold of you to go out there against those monsters.” The man responded.

“Don’t worry, we will be careful. We just need to make sure we can get as many people out as we can so Ladybug and Chat noir won’t need to worry.”

“Ah, how selfless of you. You both seem quite capable for ones so young.”

“You’re very kind, but we are just doing what we can. Our friends are out there and they need our help.”

Kagami goes to the door. Checking to ensure the coast is clear again.

The old man pats the musician’s shoulder.

“I am sure you two will figure a way to help your friends.”

“There are too many outside this room.” Kagami grumbled. If only I had a way to fight them.”

The mysterious janitor smiled.

“Say… I did happen to see Ladybug earlier.”

The two teens turned their attention to the old man.

“You did?” they asked in unison.

“Yes, she happened to drop something while rushing. Would you two be so kind as to return them to her when you see her.”

The two of them glance at each other and shrug. The old janitor might be senile.

“Sure… We can give it to her.” Luka assured the old man, trying to remain polite.

The old man moves to a closet, where out of view of the two teens, an elaborate chest with the symbol of the guardian’s decorates the top. He quickly gets two smaller boxes and closes the closet.

“Ah! Here they are.”

He hands the two a small box each. Their eyes go wide.

“They seemed important, so I didn’t want to just leave them on the floor. But I have a feeling you two will take good care of them.”

The two teens were engrossed by the boxes in their hands. They recognized them immediately. These were the boxes Ladybug used when handing out miraculous.

“Where did you find…?” Kagami tried to question, but noticed the old man was no longer there.

“He’s gone…”

“Actually, I am over here.”

The teens look in the opposite direction they were looking in order to see him at the end of the room getting a snack from the fridge.

The duo decided that maybe this old guy wasn’t all there after all and figured it would be best to go somewhere and utilize the ‘gift’ they were just given.

“Stay in the lounge where it’s safe okay?” Luka asked politely.

“Of course. I am not paid if I am not working.”

The two teens checked the door again, and once the coast was clear. They both slipped out of the room.

After he knew they were out of sight, the old man chuckled.

“The senile routine works every time.”

“Master, you really cut it close with that one.” A small turtle creature exclaimed as he popped out from the closet.

“The universe works in mysterious ways Wayzz. What are the odds that there would be an attack on the school the very day I decide to hide out as a janitor?”

“Considering the frequency of akuma attacks, very likely.”

“True, but how about running into two individuals that Marinette had picked to be heroes.” Fu followed up.

“That is quite a coincidence.”

The guardian pulled out his phone and noticed he didn’t have a signal.

“It seems I can’t get a signal to notify her of the reinforcements I sent her way. Likely it would be the same on her end. So, it is a good thing I acted in advance.”

Fu moved to the closet where he kept the miraculous.

“I can’t help but shake the feeling Ladybug and Chat noir will need all of the help they can get.

“Don’t worry master, I am sure Ladybug and Chat noir will be successful.

“Let us keep an eye on things. They might need another ally to turn the tide.

________________________________________________________

“I am guessing you are also familiar with what’s inside here?” Kagami inquired as the two stealthily moved in the hall.

“I may be familiar with it.” Luka commented.

Kagami contemplated the statement. She figured out the truth.

“Seems we both have used a miraculous then?”

“It appears we have. Though I am not sure Ladybug will be thrilled that someone knows I have helped her.”

“I understand the sentiment. Though lets simply agree to keep it between us.” Kagami answered. “Friends do keep secrets like that if I’m correct.”

Luka smiled at the comment.

“Your secret is safe with me.” Luka assured.

“As is yours.”

The two found the locker room and quickly moved inside.

“Coast is clear.”

The two opened the boxes and as they did two magical creatures appeared in front of them.

A floating creature with multiple spikes appeared in front of the fencer, while another floating creature that resembled a cobra stood in front of luka.

“It is a pleasure to see you again Mistress Kagami.”

“It’s been too long, Longg.” Kagami smiled. Happy to see her kwami friend.

“Hello Luka, itssss been a while.” The snake kwami greeted.

“Happy to see you too Sass.” Luka fist bumped his kwami.

The kwamis stop and turn to see the other kwami there.

“Does Ladybug know about this?” They both ask in unison.

“We will inform her after. Right now, there is a lot of danger.” Kagami exclaimed. “Ladybug needs our help.”

The two kwami nod and prepare to fight.

“Consssider us accomplissses.” Sass answered.

The two teens put on the miraculous.

“Sass! Scales Slither.”

“Longg! Bring the storm”

The two teens transform into their heroic alter egos.

Kagami shifting into the dragon miraculous hero Ryuuko, and Luka changing into the Snake hero Viperion.

The two stop to glance at the other.

“So, what should I call you.” The snake hero asked curiously.

“Call me Ryuuko. And what about you mister snake?”

“Viperion is what I am going with.”

“Fitting.”

“As is yours.”

The two give a nod of comradery before making their way out of the locker room. They had to go help Ladybug.

__________________________________________________

Ladybug dashed across the hallway, avoiding pause symbols being flung at her by the conniving akuma.

She slid underneath one of the symbols and preformed a daring slide kick to knock Lady Wifi off balance.

While she was unstable, Chat noir charged and used his baton to make contact with her white mask. Believing it was the obvious weak point.

“Got it!” Chat noir exclaimed triumphantly. The strike of the staff knocking Ladywifi a good several meters. Before lying flat on her back.

“Wow, that is a tough mask. I thought for sure that was the weak point.” Chat noir commented.

Lady Wifi stood up robotically.

“There must be a way to snap her out of it. Unless Hawkmoth is learning from his mistakes.” Ladybug hypothesized as she got up from the ground.

“Well I got nothing.” Chat noir shrugged.

Another set of footsteps approaching caught the hero’s attention. The recognized the multicolored bubble maker the moment they saw him.

“Nino… You too?” Chat noir said under his breath.

The Bubble maker used his bubble wand to summon two large bubbles to capture the heroes. Bringing back flashbacks of their first encounter with the bubble akuma.

Chat noir and Ladybug expertly slide between the gaps of the attack, resulting in Lady Wifi getting hit with the large bubbles and being sent flying into the wall via bubble prison.

Chat noir lunged at the Bubbler, his quick pounce pinning him down before he could attack.

“Maybe I can destroy his mask with…”

“Wait Chat noir!” Ladybug called out.

Chat noir paused.

“What if your cataclysm doesn’t free him?”

“And then I am left without the power before a recharge.”

“Exactly. We need to hold off on using our powers right now.”

Chat noir wanted to save his friend. But he knew his partner was right. They needed to conserve their powers before facing Lila.

The Bubbler managed to get the cat hero off of him with a burst of strength. Knocking Chat noir to the ground.

Lady Wifi had gotten free from the bubble attack and was now blocking the other entrance.

Ladybug and Chat noir moved back to back, Ladybug facing the ladyblogger turned mindless akuma slave and Chat noir facing the akumatized DJ.

“Any ideas, Buggaboo?”

“Seems they can’t adapt. They are pretty much mindless slaves. Which makes sense since Lila wouldn’t want them to think for themselves.”

“So you’re saying their movements are simple.”

“Which means they are exploitable.”

Chat noir felt relief watch over him. He knew Ladybug had a plan.

_____________________________________________________

“EWWWW!” Chloé screeched in disgust. The front entrance to the school had been covered in a pink slime.

She wiped her hand on the cleanest section of wall she could find. This was not her day.

“What is with this nasty gross akuma? First, I can’t call Daddy to come and pick me up. I can’t even post about it! How will Ladybug know to save me? Or better yet, get me the bee miraculous so I can help her save the day?”

Chloé decided to try another exit, since she had no plans of sticking around without knowing if she was going to be given a miraculous or not. Plus, she did say she would call for help, and doing that would make her look good in potential hero points.

As she was walking, she bumps into something in the middle of the hall. Which was bizzare since the hall was clear.

“Ouch, right on my bruise. What the hell is…”

Chloé felt her anger shift to fear when she watched as the empty hall now contained a familiar akuma.

“Sabrina?”

The akuma turned to her, her face covered with a white face mask.

“Eww. Your akuma form looks even tacker than before.”

“Take potential akuma to master.” The akumatized Sabrina stated in an emotionless tone. Repeating the order, she had been given.

“Oh no you don’t! Sabrina, I order you to listen to me!”

The akuma ignored the blonde’s command and slowly walked towards her.

“Sabrina… I am warning you. I am going to yell at you over this later if you don’t stop right now.”

Chloé started slowly backing away. She wasn’t sure of what to do.

“Listen… if you stop right now… I’ll uh… let you take a pick of one of my old sweaters.” Chloé bargained, not intending to let her pick one of the ones she actually liked.

Chloé felt her hand touch the sealed door, and knew she was at the end of the hall. She was boxed in.

“This is so unacceptable.” Chloé stated, preparing to get captured. But a flash of Red and Black came out of nowhere and kicked the akuma hard to the wall.

“Ladybug! I knew you would like save me!” Chloé jumped and hugged her savior.

“Im not ladybug.” The heroine spoke.”

Chloé released the hug as she examined who her savior was.

“Who the hell are you?”

Chloé had never bothered to learn the names of any of the other miraculous heroes. She sometimes forgets chat noir’s name.

“Ryuuko.” The dragon heroine stated calmly, almost regretting saving Chloé.

“Did Ladybug send you? Cause it would have been better if she got me to help.”

Ryuuko decided to ignore Chloé’s comment.

“Now we need to leave before she… Where did she go?” Looking at the dented locker that no longer had an akuma lying on the ground.

Suddenly the akuma popped out of nowhere about to strike from above with her tonfa and steal Ryuuko’s powers, but was stopped when a small harp smacked her face.

“She appears to have invisibility.” A voice called out.

The two turn to see the snake hero as he caught his harp on the rebound.

Chloé took a moment to look over the snake hero. She had to admit, he was pretty cute. Not Adrien cute, maybe she would start learning the names of the other heroes.

“Quick thinking Viperion.” Ryuuko thanked the snake teen.

“Just following your lead.” Viperion responded. The two giving eachother a respectful smile. They both seemed to have gotten used to working together.

The akuma got up. Its white face mask making the akuma’s expression unreadable. But its body language exuded rage.

“Seems we aren’t going anywhere until she is taken care of.” Ryuuko said as she stared down the akuma.

Viperion turned to chloé.

“You need to go and get to safety.”

“Okay!” Chloé says as she runs off.

“How come she didn’t give you any sass?”

“Because I already have him.”

Kagami had to admit that was a clever response.

“Not what I meant, but Chat noir would love that joke.”

“I will be sure to tell him it later.”

“Stick to playing guitar. You’re a better musician than comedian.”

Before they could get off anymore banter. The akuma went for another attack.

________________________________________________________

Simularé entered Ms.Bustier’s classroom.

“I am here.” The ghostly sentimonster announced.

“Excellent.”

The sentimonster looked up to see that the classroom it was expeciting to see had been altered into what appeared to be a rather glamourous throne room. The windows covered by white curtains with the design of an akuma in black. The platforms and stairs had been altered to be marble. And at the top, where Lila’s desk once was was now a golden throne akin to something one would see in a castle. Though despite the impressive change in the classroom it was still being designed. The akuma known as the evillustrator was still creating more furnishings for the room.

“Simulare, I have an order for you.” Masquerade stated as she sat on the new throne. Clearly confident in her position.

The sentimonster approached her master. Stopping only a few feet away.

“I want you to create a mirage over the school. Since Ladybug is already in the school. It would be best if you made sure no one notices whats happening here. I don’t need any additional heroes popping in yet. Let’s handle her before making things public.”

Simularé nodded.

“Understood. But what should we do if she…”

“I have everything under control. Just follow my orders.”

Simularé ceased her questioning.

“As you wish master.”

The sentimonster shifted into her Volpina form and headed out of the classroom.

“She is getting arrogant in her power. If things do go south, I will need to step in.” Simularé said to herself. But for now, she knew she had a role to play.

_____________________________________________________________

And that ends part 34.

Seems things are REALLY heating up. Will Viperion and Ryuuko be able to help Ladybug and Chat noir?

Will Ladybug and Chat noir be able to get through to their brainwashed friends?

Will Masquerade's gambit be enough for her to get her vengeance?

Whats Simularé's deal?

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[anonymousfiction211]

Handcuffed together: 13

A/N: Because of the log off day, I didn’t post it yesterday. I couldn’t resist writing some fluffy smutty scene before the whole event! Hope you like it :)

The night before ‘Hands higher, chin up. Come on, we’ve been through this’ Loki sternly said.

You sighed, all this training was becoming exhausted. You made some great improvement. If you weren’t leaving any time soon, you would even get Steve’s approval to actively engage in battles during the mission. It would be a great benefit to the team, especially to Clint who always got shot somehow.

‘Loki, I’m exhausted’ you complained.

‘Good’ he said. Suddenly his arm came swinging for you head. You dodged the attack just in time.

‘What the hell?!’ you growled.

‘Fight me’ he said.

He went down and sweeped your legs out from under you. You fell down on your back. Loki was smiling smugly above you. You immediately got up and took your fighting stance. Loki quickly advanced towards you, attacking you with a series of blows. You blocked each of them. He upped the pace but you were able to keep up.

When you had enough you decided to attack him instead. But he dodged your attack, grabbed your wrist, and pulled it downwards, making you land on your stomach. He sat down on your back and pulled one arm behind your back. Completely out of breath you gave in.

‘This really wasn’t fair’ you grumbled.

He just chuckled ‘Fights rarely are. Plus, I quite like your helpless underneath me’

‘I hate you’ you said.

‘That’s a lie’ Loki mused.

‘Can you get off?’ you asked.

‘Why would I do that, when I can do this?’ he said, starting to tickle your sides. You started to laugh and squirm underneath him.

‘Please, please… I surrender’ you panted.

‘Hmm.. just this once then’ Loki said while he got off you. You rolled on your back and took his hand. When he pulled you up he put an arm around your neck and kissed you.

‘You are annoying’ you laughed when he broke the kiss.

‘I learned from the best’ he winked at you.

You rolled your eyes. ‘We’re done for today, right? I’m going to take a shower’ you said.

‘Just by yourself?’ Loki asked playfully.

‘Yes, just by myself. You don’t deserve to be showering with me after annoying me’ you answered.

He feigned to be extremely insulted. Just when you were about to leave you felt a force pull you back against his chest. You wanted to protest, but when you blinked you were naked in the bathroom with Loki. The shower was already running, filling the room with steam.

‘No, you’re not’ he mused.

‘I’m too exhausted to even protest’ you complained. Loki just laughed and pulled the shower curtain to the side. You got under the lukewarm water, one of the reasons you didn’t like to shower with him. You liked the water extremely hot and if it was up to Loki the water would be ice cold. After some discussion you decided on lukewarm as a compromise. But that was the only complaint you had, the other aspects of showering with Loki you quite enjoyed.

When you were standing under the water Loki stood immediately behind you. His hands were already exploring every inch of you body.

‘Like I said impossible’ you said, trying not to show how much his touch already affected you.

‘It’s not my fault that you look ravishing while training. This is really your own fault, darling’ he whispered seductively.

His hands wandered from your throat to your breasts. Slowly massaging them you felt his cock erect against your backside. He stepped closer and you felt his breath against your ear. He chuckled when he heard you whimper. His hands trailed downwards over you stomach to your thighs. He slowly stroked your thighs and pushed you harder against him by your hips. With one finger he stroked your clit and felt the wetness between your thighs. You moaned lowly and let him play with you for a while.

He grabbed your hair and pushed your upper body against the wall. You put your hands beside yourself against the wall. He grabbed his cock and pumped a few times. He lined it up with your entrance and slowly entered you. He deliberately took his time while you were panting and squirming against the wall. He tightened his grip on your hair to hold you in place. Once he filled you up he started to rock his hips back and forth. Making you moan his name when he hit your g-spot.

‘That’s right, kitten. Purr for me’ he whispered in your ear.

He kissed your neck and marked you with his teeth, which made you hiss in pain. He sped up his pace when you did.

‘You’re so pretty with my cock inside of you. Unable to do anything else than take pleasure from it’ he continued.

‘Tonight, I think I’m going to do something we haven’t done for a while. I’ll cuff you to the bed while I edge you over and over again. Until the only thing you can think about is my cock’ he growled.

‘Once you can’t think straight anymore I’m going to make you come, repeatedly. Until you beg me to stop. I’m going to ignore you, until I’m finished playing with you. Then I will fuck you one more time’ he went on.

When his fingers started to play with your clit you were done for. You came hard clenching around his cock. Loki followed you and groaned your name loudly, the whole tower might have heard. Both of you were panting, he pumped in and out of you a few more times before retracting completely.

You got off the wall and turned around to face him. He immediately grabbed you for a deep kiss. His tongue slid inside of your mouth, slowly circling your own tongue. When he broke the kiss he had you gasping for air.

‘So, did the dirty talk work?’ he smirked knowing exactly that it had.

You blushed and were unable to meet his gaze. He grabbed your chin and made you look up at him.

‘Darling, whatever is going to happen tomorrow.. know that I truly love you’ he said seriously. You looked in his beautiful eyes that showed nothing but affection.

‘I love you too’ you whispered. ‘And yes, the dirty talk definitely worked’ you added.

‘Oh, but it wasn’t just talk’ Loki said while showing you a devilish grin. ‘It was a promise’ he growled before kissing you again.

The next morning you were definitely exhausted. Neither of the two of you had gotten much sleep. Loki has kept his promise, he had edged you, overstimulated you and once you couldn’t think anymore, fucked you again. You had loved every second of it. The whole team had breakfast together and started to talk about the last details. Tonight, was the night that Loki would ‘die’. You were nervous, hoping he could manipulate the Hulk into thinking he was actually dead. You wanted to be by his side during this, but he refused.

In fact, you were the only one who wasn’t involved in the plan. On that bit Loki had insisted. You would come outside after everyone knew he was ‘death’. Thor would take Loki’s body and you through the Bifrost to Asgard for his funeral. Thanos wouldn’t be bothered after that. Once in Asgard the two of you would go to a planet called Sakaar. You had argued, you could help tonight. But since you were coming with Loki, he had made you promise to at least stay out of this fight. After pushing him to come with him, you decided to let him have this one. Once the two of you were secure, the team would start to make a plan to kill Thanos. Loki and you would check in every other month on Asgard and help as much as you could.

Permanent taglist: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas @pescadoavocado @theestorm @theaudacitytowrite

Series taglist: @l0nelyasian @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes @ragweed98​ @thehornytitties​ @oh-my-gerd​ @morganmofresh​ @saiyanstars​ @rahne85​ @charistory​ @not-your-bitch​ @kamrynnnnn​ @kokinu09​

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[iam93percentstardust]

hey alle, so for the prompts i'd love some cute and funny winteriron with bucky wanting to impress tony with his cooking, but tony being a very picky eater. which leads to a lot of frustration on bucky's side, and obliviousness on what is even going on from tony's. if you feel like it. thank you! <3

Here it is! The long-awaited His Girl FRIDAY remix! I hope you love this as much as I do!

As always, everything I write is on ao3 too

~

The first time Bucky left food in Tony’s workshop and come back to find it untouched, he’d figured it was a fluke. Tony had probably been caught up in a zone—like Steve had warned him about when Bucky had decided he was going to woo Tony with food—and hadn’t noticed the food was even there.

The second time, he made sure to catch Tony’s attention as he was dropping off the plate—lasagna because Natalia had said Tony’s mother was Italian and Bucky made a pretty decent lasagna if he did say so. Tony had glanced at him and then at the plate before turning away with a slightly bewildered frown. Bucky had taken the frown to mean that no one else had ever bothered before to take care of Tony, which was a fact that had just about broken his heart, and left the plate there. He’d gone back later that night to find the lasagna untouched. That had been a little harder to explain away, but he’d eventually decided that maybe Tony was one of those food snobs who only liked Italian food made by actual Italians.

The third time he made oatmeal with a little bit of honey and cream, perfect for someone with as much of a sweet tooth as Tony had, and brought it into the workshop for Tony, who had spent the entire night working on new arrows for Clint.

“Tony?” he called softly, not wanting to startle him. Tony was uncomfortable enough with all the new people moving into the tower after everything with SHIELD and Hydra; being Hydra’s pet assassin, he didn’t want to make it worse by sneaking up on him. “I brought you some breakfast.”

Tony popped up from underneath a table, visibly brightening. “Oh good,” he said cheerfully, making grabby hands at the bowl. “I was just starting to get hungry.” His hair was mussed, two perfect rings of black smeared around his eyes, likely where the goggles currently perched on top of his head had been resting earlier.

Bucky smiled at the adorable display and held out the bowl. Tony eagerly grabbed it, only to blink at it as soon as he saw what was in it.

“Oatmeal?” he asked delicately.

“I thought you’d appreciate having something a little more delicate after not eating for a while,” Bucky explained.

“…Oh.” After another awkward moment, Tony said carefully, “Thanks.”

Satisfied, Bucky left him to his work. This time—this time—Tony would eat it all and then he’d see what an amazing cook Bucky was and how he would absolutely be able to provide for Tony and then he’d swoon into Bucky’s arms and demand that Bucky take him right there.

Okay maybe not right there—the workshop didn’t seem like the best location for amorous activities—but that was why they called it a fantasy, right?

Too bad Tony punctured that fantasy like a balloon.

Bucky went back downstairs long to pick up the bowl after Tony had come up to the common areas, yawning widely and telling everyone he was heading to bed for the next twenty-four hours so don’t bother him unless New York was on fire. It had been a bit of a disappointment that he’d just nodded at Bucky without saying anything about the breakfast or about his everlasting feelings for him, but not nearly as much of a disappointment to walk into the workshop to find the bowl as untouched as all the other meals he’d so painstakingly prepared.

~

“I don’t get it,” he whined to Sam later that day. “I’m a good cook.”

Sam gave him an unimpressed look. “Are you sure? It’s been, what, seventy years since the last time you made anything. Maybe you’re not as good as you used to be.”

Bucky gasped dramatically. “You take that back!”

“No. You promised me you’d offer dating advice with Natasha and instead you’re sitting here mooning over Tony’s ass again so I’ll say whatever I like about your cooking.”

“Sorry,” he muttered guiltily. Sam was right. He had promised that. Or, rather, Steve had promised advice and Bucky had taken one look at him still pining over Peggy and feeling weird about his current interest being Peggy’s niece (a valid way to feel) and declared him hopeless before telling Sam that he would help him out instead. After all, he remembered Natalia from the years she’d spent training with him during her childhood. Who else would be more qualified to teach Sam how to woo her? Well, besides Clint obviously, but he was taking some personal time away from the team.

“She likes the ballet,” he said. “She wanted to be a ballerina when she was younger, said they were as graceful as any Widow only they didn’t have to kill.”

“And you’re sure that won’t just make her sad?” Sam asked dubiously.

Bucky glared at him. “I might not like you very much—” Sam rolled his eyes—"But I like Natalia a whole lot. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. Take her to the ballet and take Steve and Sharon while you’re at it. A double date will help her feel less trapped and maybe Steve will stop moping and ask Sharon out.”

“It’s a little weird, you know.”

“Sure, but he kissed Peggy once and it’s not like he’s ever gonna go back to the war and live out the rest of his time there, so he might as well move on.”

Sam laughed. “Guess that’s true.” He sighed, smile fading away. “I don’t know why Tony’s ignoring your meals. Sorry about that though. It sucks.”

“If I may,” JARVIS cut in. Both of them jumped, though Bucky would deny to his dying day that he yelped. Sam, on the other hand, shrieked like a kid and Bucky reminded himself to go back and access the audio footage so he would have blackmail.

“Sorry, JARVIS,” he apologized. “Keep forgetting you’re up there. Didn’t exactly have AI back during the war.”

“Or even in other houses,” Sam added.

“My apologies,” JARVIS said, and he’ll be damned if JARVIS didn’t sound extremely apologetic. It was incredible, really, how much life Tony imbued in his creations. “I only wanted to offer my advice about Sergeant Barnes’ attempts at wooing Sir.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked. “Go right ahead. Can’t be any worse than any of the other advice I’ve gotten.” Seriously, Clint had even suggested truth serum, like that wasn’t the worst idea ever suggested.

“Sir is an extremely picky eater,” JARVIS explained. “He does not enjoy cooked tomatoes, ricotta cheese, or the texture of oatmeal.”

…All of which had been in at least one of the meals he’d prepared for Tony.

“Fuck.”

JARVIS wryly said, “Indeed.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“You requested that I remain inactive on your floor while you were recovering. But you’re in Sergeant Wilson’s quarters at the moment so I may share my expertise.”

He had said that, hadn’t he? It had been in the early days when he was still having trouble remembering what he’d said moments earlier, but he had a vague recollection of being overwhelmed by the idea of constant monitoring and asking if JARVIS could be turned off.

“Wow, way to go, Barnes,” Sam commented, hiding a grin behind his hand.

“Fuck,” he said again, more emphatically. “Best tool at my disposal and I’m not even using it. JARVIS, I bet you could tell me all sorts of things about Tony.”

He got the impression that if the AI could sniff, he would have. “I would not dare to air Sir’s ‘dirty laundry’ so to speak.”

“No, no,” Bucky said, waving his metal hand. The hand made a concerning grinding sound and he frowned. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He’d probably need to ask someone to take a look at it. Sam was capable of performing basic maintenance, and Bucky trusted him not to sabotage the arm, but anything worse and he’d have to go ask Tony about it.

“Not what I meant,” he continued. “Just that you could tell me what Tony likes and doesn’t like. Uh, how do I turn you back on in my floor?”

“Your request is sufficient,” JARVIS said.

“Great. I’ll meet you up there in a bit. We’re gonna make something so incredible Tony will have to fall in love with me.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Sam said, kicking his feet up onto the newly vacated spot on the couch now that Bucky was standing. “I’m going to see if I can find reasonably priced tickets to the ballet.”

Bucky blinked. “I think you’re gonna have worse luck than me.”

Sam threw a shoe at him.

~

On JARVIS’ advice, he baked blueberry muffins because those were apparently Tony’s favorite fruit. Bucky didn’t really understand it. Frankly, he thought blueberries were almost as bad as bananas—nasty, taste-changing fruit that they were—but if Tony loved them, then he would be willing to have them in his kitchen for as long as it took to bake the muffins. Fortunately, he was just as good a baker as he was a cook, so it was a breeze to whip up a delicious batch that had him grateful he couldn’t get salmonella from the mix.

Unfortunately, Tony hated the muffins. Or that’s what Bucky gathered when he went to pick the plate up, hoping that it would be empty for the first time, and found it just as untouched as everything else had been.

“What the fuck, JARVIS?” he complained. “You said he liked blueberries.”

“I don’t know, Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS said, sounding as baffled as Bucky felt. “Sir has always appreciated them.”

That, Bucky reflected later that night, was possibly to be expected. For all that JARVIS had the inhuman ability to remember literally everything he’d ever seen or heard, he was still just a program. He couldn’t necessarily extrapolate about preferences or tastes. For all either of them knew, Tony did like blueberries but didn’t like muffins or something. It didn’t really explain why JARVIS knew that Tony didn’t like cooked tomatoes, but maybe that could be explained by Tony mentioning it out loud and the other stuff, JARVIS had had to figure out on his own.

He sat up in bed, thinking about it. Maybe that was it: Tony didn’t like muffins. But there had to be other recipes out there that used blueberries that Tony would like. In fact, he was pretty sure he’d come across a blueberry cupcake with brown butter frosting recipe earlier that day. And Bucky didn’t know anyone who could say no to his brown butter. He was incredible at it, and that was being modest. Just the other day, Thor had declared the brown butter sauce he’d made for their chicken to be worthy of an Asgardian feast. Thor was a god. He probably knew things like that.

“JARVIS, you up?” he asked into the dark room.

“Always, Sergeant Barnes.”

“You don’t gotta keep callin’ me that. Bucky’s my name. I’d rather answer to that.”

“Very well, Bucky.”

“Could you pull up some other recipes with blueberries in the flavor profile please? Filter out anything that has something Tony doesn’t like and recipes similar enough to each other that they could be repeats, uh, let’s say anything with a higher than 85% similarity.”

When JARVIS was finished compiling his list, there was a lot less than what Bucky had hoped for, but it was still something he could work with. He looked through the list: cupcakes, pancakes, cookies, more than a few salads, something called a Panzanella. He starred the ones he thought would catch Tony’s interest the most, putting the others aside to possibly try later down the road. Content with his plan, he laid back down, falling asleep within seconds of his head hitting the pillow.

~

None of it worked. Despite his supposed love for blueberries, Tony continued to turn away everything Bucky made for him. So he branched out, trying other foods that JARVIS said Tony was fond of. Nothing came back with more than a couple bites taken out of it and Tony had taken to giving him worried looks every time he appeared at the workshop door with another plate. Bucky was starting to lose hope that he was ever going to woo Tony with food and that was… not great.

Traditional dates were pretty close to impossible. Despite his rapid recovery in the tower, going outside was still too frightening with the crowds of New York, the inability to pick out threats around him, and the lack of sightlines all driving Bucky back inside and to the highest floors of the tower where he could look out over everything.

And as for anything else, well, Bucky was an ex-brainwashed assassin with no money to his name and only half the social skills he used to have (Sam said he had more than he thought but arguing with Sam wasn’t like trying to get someone to like him). He didn’t have much else to offer other than making food and giving Tony a project to work on. The first wasn’t going well and the second made Bucky feel too much like he was taking advantage of Tony to use more than once or twice.

Disheartened, he made his way up to Natalia’s floor to ask her for advice. She and Tony got along almost as well as she got along with Clint. Maybe she would have insights that JARVIS wasn’t able to offer. As he neared her room, though, he realized that she wasn’t alone.

“—to kill me,” someone—Tony, Bucky realized almost immediately—was saying. He stiffened. Who was trying to kill Tony? Bucky would kill them first! Was murder a good way to woo Tony?

“котенок,” Natalia said patiently, “he’s not trying to kill you.”

“You don’t know that!” Tony exclaimed wildly. He sounded like he was pacing. “He could be! He keeps bringing me things everyone knows I won’t eat.”

And now Natalia sounded amused as she said, “Antoshka, I don’t think he’d be trying to feed you if he wanted to kill you. It’s more likely an honest mistake.”

“It could be poison.”

“It’s not poison.”

“You don’t know that. You haven’t tried any of it.”

“It’s not poison because that’s more my style than it is James’.”

Oh, they were talking about him. Tony thought Bucky was trying to kill him. “Fuck,” he said mournfully, leaning up against the wall. No wonder Tony wouldn’t touch any of the food he made for him.

“Well, I don’t see why else he’s bringing me food!” Tony said.

“Really? Not a single reason?”

“It’s food I won’t eat! He clearly doesn’t like me or he’d be bringing me actual food I like.”

“Does he know why you won’t eat it?”

“No, but why does that matter?”

“Tony, darling, have you ever once informed him that you have a sensory processing disorder and you won’t eat a lot of cooked foods because you can’t handle the texture?”

Bucky straightened back up. Tony has a what? He’d never even heard of that before. Why didn’t JARVIS say something? He thought back to when he’d been building the list of blueberry foods and how he’d wondered if JARVIS didn’t necessarily know about the pattern for Tony’s likes and dislikes in his food. Maybe JARVIS hadn’t known about Tony’s disorder, so he hadn’t known to tell Bucky about it. That made the most amount of sense to him though he couldn’t imagine why Tony had never told his AI about his disorder.

“Why would I tell him that?” Tony asks, sounding confused.

He could just picture Natalia shaking her head as she said, “Oh, Antoshka.”

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Armed with his new knowledge, Bucky crept away from the door, already planning out new meals to bring to Tony.

~

That very night, he went downstairs with a bowl of salad. It had nuts to provide a small amount of protein, though he’d also put some baked chicken in a Tupperware as well, in case that was something Tony could eat. Tony’s music was playing at a manageable volume by the time he got to the workshop, likely because he was drafting plans for some sort of irrigation system, rather than any sort of consideration for Bucky.

Tony caught sight of him before he got the doors open. Bucky watched as his face fell for a moment before he plastered on a bright, fake smile. Hydra’s programming was still too ingrained in him to do anything as obvious as wince, but he still felt a twinge of shame. Why hadn’t he thought to ask Tony what he would like to eat instead of relying on his own preferences?

“Uh,” he said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. In his other hand, he held up the Tupperware with the salad bowl on top of it. “I brought you some dinner. It’s just a salad, but I included some baked chicken on the side if you want that. I hope it’s something you like.”

Tony blinked at him. “What?”

“I—okay, I’m just gonna come right out and say it. I overheard you and Natalia earlier. I didn’t know you couldn’t eat anything I was making for you. I wasn’t trying to poison you or anything, just thought you might like some food since you’re down here all the time. Sorry for, you know, eavesdropping and making you think I didn’t like you.”

A cautious smile spread across Tony’s face. “You could have asked JARVIS,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, I did, but I guess he didn’t know you don’t like cooked foods.”

“What?” Tony cocked his head to the side. “No, he should know that.” He spun around in his chair, waving the glowing blue drafts of the irrigation system aside in favor of pulling up JARVIS’ bright golden code. It was a beautiful display, and Bucky found himself moving closer, mesmerized by the sight. He had no idea JARVIS’ code was so complex.

“J, buddy, what happened to your code?” Tony murmured. He reached out a hand, groping for Bucky’s shirt to tug him closer. “Gimme food.”

“So you like salad?” Bucky asked, relieved that he’d finally found something.

“And baked chicken,” Tony added. “But it has to be baked. Otherwise, the texture’s too rubbery for me.”

“I can do that,” he promised. “Do you like breading or marinade with the baked chicken?”

“Marinade, yes. Breading, no.”

“Okay. I’ll remember that.”

Tony paused in tearing through JARVIS’ code to give him a small, genuine smile that made Bucky’s heart light up. He returned the smile, which grew bigger when Tony’s gaze darted down to his lips, snagging there as though caught by the sight. He knew he had a nice mouth; he’d been told that plenty of times back in the forties.

“I have another confession to make,” he said once Tony’s attention returned to the code.

“Uh-huh,” Tony said distractedly.

“I was—”

“There you are!” Tony exclaimed. “J, who made those changes to lines 894 through 1036 in your code?”

JARVIS immediately said, “The last time those lines were accessed was in 2008 by Obadiah Stane.”

Tony’s face fell. “Oh.”

It took Bucky a moment remember who Obadiah Stane was. He’d appeared in one of Bucky’s mission files as the Winter Soldier. Back during the nineties, following Tony’s parents deaths, Tony had been planning on shutting down SI’s weapons manufacturing division. Hydra, who’d been buying black market weapons from Stane for years by that time, had ordered the Winter Soldier to assassinate Tony to give Stane complete control of the company. But before he’d been able to complete his mission, Stane had convinced Tony to see “reason” and Bucky had been put back in cryo. That unfulfilled mission had been one of the reasons he’d been so hesitant to move into the tower before his programming had been completely removed. Steve had tried to push for the move anyway, but before either of them could successfully argue the point, Tony had put out a call to the world’s top experts on brainwashing and three whirlwind weeks later, Bucky’s mind was programming-free. And just like that, without even meeting the guy, Bucky had developed a crush on one Tony Stark.

“Sorry, doll,” he said, dropping a hand to Tony’s shoulder and squeezing it gently.

Tony sighed frustratedly. “Every time I think I’ve taken care of everything Obie fucked up, I find something else he’s done. He was probably hoping I’d starve to death or something without anyone making food to my exacting specifications, that asshole.”

“He sounds pretty terrible,” Bucky agreed.

“J, are you able to access the last backup on those lines to restore them?” Tony asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, let’s get those fixed, and uh—”

“And we’ll go out for dinner,” Bucky interrupted.

“Huh?” Tony asked, turning to look at him.

“Seems I owe you an apology and I figure taking you out for dinner is a little nicer than a salad. ‘Sides, if I take you out, I’ll have a better understanding of what you like to eat.”

“Careful there, Buckaroo, or I’ll start thinking this is supposed to be a date.”

Bucky would probably never know what possessed him to firmly say, “Yeah, that’s exactly what it’s supposed to be.” He certainly hadn’t planned to. He really had been planning on their dinner being a way to figure out what Tony liked so he could make it himself and continue with his wooing process from there, hopefully slowly easing Tony into believing that Bucky really did like him and wasn’t trying to poison him.

“Sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “That wasn’t supposed to come out like that.”

Tony stared at him, then abruptly said, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“That this is supposed to be a date.”

He could deny it and go back to his original plan. He’d probably even be able to pull off a lie like that. But there was a hopeful look in Tony’s eyes that stopped him from denying anything.

“You didn’t even know that I liked you until five minutes ago,” he pointed out cautiously.

Tony scoffed. “What, like you’ve never liked someone who hated you.”

“Uh, no. I’ve never done that.”

“Really?”

“Never.”

“Huh.”

“Are you… are you saying that you do like me?” Bucky asked.

“Well, yeah. You never mind that half of my engineering babble goes over your head and you bring me food even if you didn’t know it wasn’t something I could eat and you’re really fucking gorgeous when you’ve showered and your hair isn’t falling in greasy clumps around your face.”

“Look who’s talking,” Bucky said amusedly, reaching out to run his fingers through Tony’s hair, matted down with machine oil. Even filthy, he could feel how soft it would be when it was clean. Tony leaned into his hand, humming happily.

“So is that a yes on this being a date, Bucky babe?” Tony asked. “Cause I’ll be honest, I’m not usually left hanging.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding. “It’s a date.”

Tony grinned and turned his head just enough to kiss the inside of Bucky’s wrist, making Bucky shiver. “Let me get cleaned up.”

“You want me to join you?”

Tony winked at him. “Next time, honey.”

#winteriron #alle writes #alle answers #if you like please reblog

[snackhobi]

pairing: hoseok x reader / word count: 26.8k / genre: fluff, smut, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, slow burn, technically a buzzfeed unsolved AU but you don’t need to be familiar with BFU at all so dw!

summary: having hoseok as your best friend and co-host for your web series is a dream come true. the only hitch? you’re kind of in love with him, and it’s getting harder to ignore that fact, even if he doesn’t feel the same for you. 

warnings: idiots being oblivious, sexually explicit content, oral (f receiving + brief mentions of m receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), body worship + praise (f receiving), a lot of soft emotions and pet names, hoseok treating reader like a pillow princess

a/n: the more I read this the less happy I am with it but after the amount of time I’ve spent on it/how long it’s gotten, I’m calling it finished (even if it’s a lot lighter on paranormal related stuff than I’d initially planned OOPS...) please feel free to let me know what you think AHH x

--

Jung Hoseok is a lot of things. 

Jung Hoseok is: a work-friend-turned-real-friend-turned-best-friend, and one of your favourite people in the world. 

Jung Hoseok is: very easily scared, the opposite of a thrillseeker, Not A Fan of big rollercoasters, or haunted houses, or anywhere that involves jump scares or loud noises or anything vaguely dangerous or threatening. 

Jung Hoseok is: a man with ridiculous lung capacity who can also screech so loudly that you’re fairly certain he could shatter glass if he wanted to.

“It’s just a bat, hyung,” Jimin says, before the bat comes back round and Hoseok shrieks again.

Jung Hoseok is: clinging to you with a vice-like grip as aforementioned bat flutters above you, squeaking and trilling, and you stroke his hand in an absent, instinctual motion, trying to soothe him.

“I definitely heard footsteps as well,” Hoseok whimpers. “Why are we here?” 

Why are you here? Well, because Jung Hoseok is also: your co-host for one of BigHit’s most popular series, BigHit Unsolved.

It’s funny, in a roundabout sort of way, that Hoseok’s general fear of Most Things had been the thing that had cinched him his spot. You’d never expected Unsolved to explode in the way it had, starting off as a short video series with Yoongi beside you to bounce off as you described unsolved crimes, but then Hoseok had starred opposite you and the audience had just eaten it up: the way he got spooked at real life events, the modulation of his voice when it would rise or dip in fear, the way you riffed off each other- you, calm but enthused about your topic, and Hoseok, a quivering jelly of a man when scared.

Not to mention that Hoseok is just great on screen anyway, personable and bright and charming. He makes you laugh and brings out a level of exuberance in you in a way that no one else can, makes you do ridiculous things without even trying- your interactions are good video fodder, basically, and your audience loves how your friendship comes across on the show. 

And that’s another funny thing. You’d known Hoseok before Unsolved, of course, because everyone knows Hoseok, because Hoseok is wonderful, a sunshine of a man, loved by all. You, however, hadn't really spoken much to him- when you'd started at BigHit you'd been crushing on Hoseok in kind of a big way and you'd been worried about embarrassing yourself in front of him, so… you'd done the logical thing of avoiding him as much as was possible without being rude or weird. Face your problems and anxieties? In this economy? Haha, you don't think so.

Anyway. Because of this, your interactions had been pretty limited up until you’d asked him to appear in one of your videos. If anyone asked it was because you’d thought he would be a fun, one-off guest star, which was true, but the main reason was that Yoongi had cancelled because he was sick and no one else had been free when you’d been scrabbling around the office for a replacement. Despite not knowing you all too well, and despite being scared easily by true crime (“my mum watched CSI when I was a kid and it gave nightmares,” he’d told you afterwards), Hoseok had heard about your plight and was happy to replace Yoongi for the episode, and you’d found out that- despite your initial worry that you were going to make things weird- you get on really well.

Like, really well. Not just on camera, either. Before they’d started to roll, you’d been frantically making sure everything was in place, that you had all your notes, that all the pre-production was ready- and Hoseok had made you stand still, taking your hands in his, and he’d smiled at you in a way that had been so warm and comforting that all the tension had leaked out of you. After that it had just been so easy. You’d felt relaxed and the episode had come out great, and then Hoseok suggested that you grab lunch together in the cafeteria so you could get to know each other more. Of course you’d agreed- and the rest is history.

It didn’t take long for Hoseok to turn from a nice and funny colleague, to someone you actively looked for at work gatherings, to someone who you decided to ask to be your permanent co-host for the show, to someone who now has a spare key for your flat in case he ever runs out of snacks or just feels like dropping by. Which he feels like doing a lot, apparently, but you have a key for his place too, so it’s all even stevens. (You steal a lot of his face masks whenever you visit him and he never complains.)

Over time your huge crush on Hoseok has ebbed into a deep platonic love, fading and morphing into a comfortable friendship. Okay, sure, you still think he’s the most beautiful person in the universe and you’d immediately accept if he asked you to marry him and you kind of want to kiss him on the mouth sometimes (a lot of the time) or whatever, but that’s because you know how wonderful he is. It’s platonic. Not romantic. Mmhm. (Mostly.) Either way, you're completely comfortable around him despite any lingering feelings you might have, which is something you appreciate more than you can put into words.

So fast forward to now, multiple seasons into your show, and you’re more than used to Hoseok’s fear and touch. It had been startling, at the beginning, when Hoseok had grabbed onto you whenever he was afraid, but now you’re used to navigating places in the dark while Hoseok clings onto you like a particularly oversized backpack or holds your hand like a lost school child. (You’ve lost count of the minutes, nay, hours of footage that exist of Hoseok doing this, like some sort of gangly limpet, but you don’t mind.) Fans love to splice together footage comparing interactions over the seasons and it’s very obvious how wide eyed and stiff you used to go whenever Hoseok seized you, but now? This is your every day, baby.

Hoseok is still cowering behind you as the lone bat flaps above you, high up in the rafters of the old generator building you’re standing in. You and your crew and your guide are the only people at the abandoned gold mine, so Hoseok can’t have heard footsteps, other than your own- which is what you tell him.

“I think it was the building settling, Hobi,” you say. “This mining warehouse is pretty old.”

“Old and full of ghosts.” Hoseok moans. Jimin readjusts the camera and you know that, without a doubt, he’s zooming in on Hoseok’s terrified face. Namjoon’ll have some fun shots to edit later. Jimin is a very capable cameraman, and also unruffled by ghosts/loud noises/etc, but he does love to catch some interesting angles of the two of you. At least Taehyung refrains from doing that, although he does sometimes get too focused on making a shot artistic rather than capturing the abject terror on Hoseok’s face when it would be a good clip for the final video.  

“Well, we don’t know that.” You pause. “Maybe we should test it with the spirit box to find out?”

Hoseok’s face twists and you can’t help but laugh.

The supernatural half of the show wouldn’t exist without Hoseok. Your fans enjoyed his eternal suffering and fear whenever anything remotely spooky was mentioned, so they'd bandied about the idea of a paranormal-themed season and you'd taken the idea on board; the juxtaposition between yourself and your co-host was all the more defined when he was banshee shrieking at some innocuous sound while you stayed calm. You’re open to the concept of the supernatural but have yet to come across any evidence that you find compelling enough to make you a believer, while Hoseok is convinced in the existence of ghosts and finds the idea terrifying.

He doesn’t like the spirit box because of this, but you don’t mind it- although you don't really like the loud static it makes when it’s scanning through radio frequencies, trying to pick up if any spirits or ghouls are trying to talk to you. (They’re not, even if Hoseok insists that the random bursts of sound it spits out are definitely coherent words and sentences, rather than a mish-mash of random rubbish that it just happens to pick from normal radio waves.)

The spirit box, of course, is about as interesting as normal: that is to say, not really at all, though you have a good laugh after you ask for any spirits to give you a name and the only response is ‘pineapple pie’, which makes you feel hungry. Hoseok lets you rummage around in his pocket for a cereal bar, which you end up munching on between shots, as Hoseok swats bugs away from your faces. He attempts to karate chop a mosquito but misses by miles and you almost choke on a mouthful of oats as he makes the world’s most incredulous face and you giggle.

“We should make pineapple pie for a video at some point,” you suggest, and Hoseok is briefly distracted from his fear- he’d given up on the bugs and has been shining his torch over your shoulder at some old generator equipment and casting warped shadows on the walls behind it, dark silhouettes that could admittedly be considered a little spooky. “I’ve never had pineapple pie before.”

“There’s a Filipino bakery near our place that sells it!” Taehyung jumps in before Hoseok can respond, turning away from where he and Jimin have been making shadow puppets on the wall with their own torches. “It’s so good, you should definitely do it.”

Hoseok hums. “Jin-hyung would probably be happy to help out,” he says. You finish the cereal bar and tuck the wrapper back into Hoseok’s pocket, making a mental note to get in touch with the Tasty team member to ask him about it. He’ll leap at the opportunity. 

There’s a clattering noise somewhere far in the distance, probably rocks shifting or something, and Hoseok squeaks and crowds even closer to you, as impossible as that is with how he’s already wrapped around your back at this point, the harness for his chest-mounted camera digging into your spine. It’s a familiar sensation by this point. “Please can we get out of here now?”

“Sure,” you say indulgently, stroking Hoseok’s arm where it’s wrapped around your collarbones. “We need to drive down to the mining tunnels now anyway.”

Hoseok keeps hold of your hand as your guide drives you to your location, squeezing your fingers every time the car goes over a bump- which is pretty often on the rocky dirt track. Hoseok’s fairly touchy in general, always holding hands or hugging or kissing people, raining little pecks over their faces, and it had been Very Overwhelming when he’d first turned this attention to you. You’re not, like, not touchy, but back in season 1 you were definitely not used to spending time with someone who loves skinship as much as Hoseok does, and it had taken time for you to stop freezing up every time he casually touched or grabbed you.

It says a lot about how used you are to it now that you don’t even bat an eyelid when he wriggles into your twin bed at the hotel later, curling up around you once he’s finished his meticulous skincare routine.  “Your bed is over there, Hobi,” you say, although you immediately snuggle back into him, letting him spoon you. He’s always a lot clingier after you finish filming a supernatural episode- as if you can ward off any ghosts that might have decided to hitch a ride back from wherever you’d come from.

“I know,” Hoseok replies. He hitches a leg over yours, sighing happily when you reach an arm down to rub his calves. He always sleeps better if you massage him.

“I can’t wait to get home.” You dig your fingers into a muscle and Hoseok squirms a little. You huff out a laugh. “Arizona is so hot.”

“You look cute in shorts, though,” Hoseok says. He’s been saying the same thing all day.

“You just like shorts.” He’d been wearing shorts too, pretty much matching his clothes to yours; at this point you’re starting to wonder if he looks through your luggage before he packs his own stuff, because your outfits end up being eerily similar a lot of the time. You think he finds it reassuring, maybe, when you’re somewhere unfamiliar. Or maybe it’s because Hoseok’s fashion has influenced your own over the years. You definitely own a lot more bright clothing than you used to, not to mention the matching items you’ve both purchased together anyway.

Now that you think about it, Hoseok really has been a big influence on you, huh.

He falls asleep pretty soon after, going lax and limp as his breaths deepen and he dozes off. He always falls asleep before you do, awake one second and flat out the next; you envy his ability to drop off like that, usually taking a lot longer yourself, but you do find it good that he’s able to sleep so quickly despite his earlier fear. He always crashes at yours after you finish filming an episode when you’re home, too, otherwise he says he’s up all night with the fear- this is all part and parcel of Hoseok being your co-host and partner on the show, and honestly, you don’t mind it at all.

So you're used to this. When Hoseok makes a little noise in his sleep and starts shifting behind you, you lift his hand to your mouth and gently kiss his knuckles, running your thumb down his wrist- he settles immediately, going lax again. You'll chase away any nightmares with soft touches, shuffling around in his grip and holding him tight if you need to, before eventually drifting off yourself, safe and warm in the circle of his arms.

Even though you usually fall asleep after Hoseok, one thing you have over him is the fact you’re a morning person and find it a lot easier to get up with the sun. Despite your late night, you’re awake moments before your phone alarm starts to ring, turning it off before it can rouse Hoseok out of his sleep. When you slide out of the bed he stirs a little, instinctively reaching out for you in his sleep, and you carefully put a pillow in his arms so he can hold onto that instead; he settles down once he has the pillow hugged to his chest, and you take a moment to look at him fondly and gently kiss his forehead before you start to get ready for the day.

You’re pretty much done by the time Hoseok sits up at the sound of his own alarm, blinking blearily in your direction as you turn it off for him. He’s still holding onto the pillow as he sits up.

“Morning, honey,” you chirp. “You want coffee?”

Hoseok stares at you for a second, eyes squinting as he tries to wake up fully. “Morning,” he replies, voice hoarse from sleep, and you smile. “Please.”

When you’d first found out that Hoseok wasn’t a morning person, you’d honestly been gobsmacked. He’s just so bright and energetic that you figured he rolled out of bed like that- it just makes sense- but it actually takes him a surprisingly long time to get fully up to speed with his normal self. He’s a little slower, a little softer, draping himself over your back as you fiddle with the room's coffee machine to try and get some caffeine into him.

“We can always get some more at the airport,” you say conversationally, and Hoseok hums quietly into your hair before dropping a kiss there. “It’s a shame we don’t have time to eat at the breakfast buffet.” 

Despite his morning slowness, he’s still ready on time; he’s always punctual, is your Hoseok. You make up for missing breakfast at the hotel by purchasing tons of snacks for the flight to Pennsylvania, munching a pre-wrapped croissant as you read off your phone while Jimin dozes next to you, his head resting against the window. You’re sandwiched between him and Hoseok, who has the aisle seat- he cranes his head at your pastry and you tilt it against his lips so he can take a bite. You end up with a lapful of crumbs, but that’s okay. 

“So where are we off to next?” Hoseok asks once he’s done chewing, peering at your phone screen. Across the aisle from you, Taehyung very loudly unwraps a pain au chocolat, much to the irritation of the woman next to him. 

“We’re going to an old prison,” you say, and Hoseok meeps. “A penitentiary, to be exact.”

Taehyung shoves the pain au chocolat into his mouth whole so he has his hands free, fumbling for his phone as he starts to film how the colour drains from Hoseok’s face as you give him a brief synopsis of the prison and other places you’ll be going to while in Pennsylvania. This isn’t even for Unsolved; Taehyung just likes to have video evidence and receipts for everything, if his camera reel is anything to go by. Even though you’re vague with your descriptions- you like Hoseok’s reaction on camera to be as unscripted and natural as it can possibly be, when you finally turn up at your locations and then set up so that you can talk about it- once you’re finished, Hoseok is curled up against you, hiding his face in your neck.

“Why can’t we go somewhere nice for once?” He whines, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Budget doesn’t cover it, that’s why we have to sleep at haunted hotels. They’re cheaper.” Hoseok meeps again, and you relent, lifting your hand to cup the back of his head. “Don’t worry, I won’t abandon you,” you say, stroking his hair as you use your free hand to clumsily scroll through your phone, double checking the details of your planned trip.

“I know.” Hoseok is uncharacteristically quiet against your collarbones. Taehyung gives up filming and rips into another pain au chocolat packet, smiling guiltily at his seat neighbour when she tuts at him. “You never do.”

Despite Hoseok’s fear of a lot of things related to the show, and the fact he jumps and screams at pretty much everything, he’s never asked to bow out or avoid doing something. He even agrees to go into areas alone when the two of you try to ‘make contact’ with spirits, even though he’s obviously terrified- but each and every time before you part, you promise that you’re not going anywhere and you’ll be waiting right outside for him. You would never abandon Hoseok (even though ghosts probably aren’t real and he has nothing to worry about), and he knows that, and takes strength from it. It warms you.

He keeps his head nestled against your neck for a beat longer, and then smacks a loud kiss against your skin, which makes you squeal and slap him away while he laughs. 

--

As fun as it is to jet around the country- especially with Hoseok and the other guys- it's also exhausting, and there’s always something nice about coming home. Even though the increased budget that you’ve been allocated as the show’s been growing in popularity means that you can stay at nicer hotels now, your own bed is still the most comfortable place in the world. (Well, tied with Hoseok’s bed, thinking about it. The two are basically interchangeable at this point anyway, if you consider how often Hoseok ends up sleeping at your apartment and squirreling his way under your blankets as you’re trying to sleep.)

On the other hand, though, in spite of a return to your regular creature comforts, coming home still involves work: there are Q&As to be filmed, footage to edit, later episodes to plan, research to be done. As the original progenitor of Unsolved you take the brunt of the last two parts; Hoseok is the one who reacts to the facts you throw out, he’s not the one who investigates the different things you talk about on the show, but he’s always there to support you and talk to you whenever you need it. 

(Your audience knows Hoseok as someone who is cute and bright and cheerful, but he’s also quietly thoughtful and surprisingly serious when he has to be. That’s the side of him that you get to see whenever you stay late at the office, your desk lamp the only one left on in the room, hunched over your keyboard as you trawl through conspiracy threads in the deep bowels of the internet that are discussing who D.B. Cooper is. You love loud Hoseok, of course, but you appreciate this hushed part of him, too- the way he'll deliver you a hot chocolate with a kiss to your forehead before quietly sitting beside you and waiting for you to finish so he can take you home.)

Anyway. Coming home means coming back to the office, means putting in shifts at BigHit headquarters, etc, etc, all that jazz, so here you are, sitting on Hoseok’s lap and scrolling through your tablet as he does something of his own on his PC. The first time this had happened, it had raised eyebrows- not because it was considered inappropriate or anything, as BigHit is the kind of place where people can make out in hallways to ‘test the longevity of this 24 hour lipstick’ for a video and no one bats an eyelash, but because up until this point, you’d been renowned for pretty much being glued to your desk while working. But you like Hoseok and his energy, even when he’s not doing anything, and his lap is comfortable, even if he doesn’t exactly have the world’s thickest thighs. You work better when you’re around him. 

You’re scrolling through Instagram comments for questions to answer in this week’s Q&A episode when someone clears their throat. Both you and Hoseok look up in tandem to find Seokjin standing there, looking decidedly more grey-haired than he had the last time you’d seen him. He pulls it off effortlessly, of course. 

“What’s up, silver fox?” You let your tablet droop into your lap as Hoseok takes his hands off his mouse and keyboard and secures them around your waist instead, so you don’t slide off his legs. His hands are warm where they splay across your stomach and you can feel the bumps and texture of his bracelets through the material of your shirt. “Liking the new look, by the way.”

“You look really good, Jin-hyung,” Hoseok says from over your shoulder, and you nod in agreement.

“I know.” Jin sounds flippant but he seems pleased. He doesn’t say anything more than that, though, and just looks at the two of you expectantly. You both blink back at him.

“So… did you come over just to be complimented, or?” You slowly start to lift your tablet, acting as if you’re about to start reading off your screen again. “Were the thirsty comments on your latest video not enough for you today?”

Jin raises an eyebrow as he pretends to inspect his nails. “No, no, there were plenty of comments, as always,” he says loftily. Unsurprising, considering his unofficial(/basically official) title of Most Handsome Face in the office as well as the leagues of fans he has. He lets his hand drop as he quickly gives up pretending to be aloof. “So when are you planning to fit making pineapple pie into your schedule?”

“Oh!” Hoseok squeezes you in his excitement and you wiggle a little in his lap. “I almost forgot about that! Did Tae mention it to you?”

“Jimin too. They burst into the kitchen while I was filming and they were both holding a piece of Filipino pineapple pie aloft like they were wielding Excalibur, so, yes, you can say that it was mentioned,” Jin says, and you can’t help but wince. Being interrupted while filming is one thing, but the Tasty studio can be hazardous on top of that (y’know, what with the knives and fire and stuff), so you can only hope that Jin wasn’t using a mandolin or something when they had appeared. 

“Oof.” You wiggle your hips again and Hoseok immediately catches your drift, turning his chair so the two of you are facing Jin fully rather than having to turn your heads to look at him. Jin makes a weird expression, something you can’t put a name to, but it slips away too fast for you to catch properly- maybe he just had a sudden chill or something, who knows. “Sorry about them. How about I email you our filming schedule and you can see when you’re free as well? We were going to film a 70th episode retrospective soon and the pineapple pie video might be a nice sort of bonus on top of that.”

Jin agrees easily. You use your tablet to open the Google Calendar that you have with Hoseok, which makes Jin pause when he notices. “You share a GCal?”

“Duh?” You flick a look at Jin through your lashes. You and Hoseok have GCal where you input your work schedules to avoid potential clashes when you need to film together, but you also put in other plans the two of you have outside of work, if it’s ever necessary. “Why wouldn’t we? It makes it easier when we need to plan things for Unsolved.”

“Uh-huh.” Jin sounds sceptical, but you decide not to address it. You miss the look he gives Hoseok as you scroll through your calendar, the two men having a silent exchange as you start to draft an email. Somewhere across the office you hear Yoongi shout out an expletive and two sets of cackling laughter that sound suspiciously like Taehyung and Jungkook; you and Hoseok turn at the sound, but you don’t spot anything from where you’re sat. “Alright, I think that’s my cue to leave,” Jin says, and promptly dips before he gets dragged into whatever’s going on.

Whatever shenanigans Jungkook and Taehyung have gotten up to seem to be pinpointed to one area, so you avoid any fall out, and Hoseok eventually excuses himself to go to the toilet. You take over his chair while he’s gone. Asides from yourself, both computers at this desk are entirely abandoned- Yoongi is still absent, nowhere to be seen- and you’re tapping away at your tablet when all of a sudden you have a camera shoved in your face. 

For once it’s not Jimin or Taehyung or Jungkook, and instead when you look up you see Irene and Seulgi, the latter girl beaming at you while Irene holds the camera. Seulgi says your name and points at you with a perfectly manicured nail, and you blink at her, completely caught off guard. Irene zooms in on your bewildered expression.

“Um, hey guys,” you say. “What’s up? Need me for something?”

“We wanted to ask if you wanted to guest star in the next Ladylike video!” Seulgi chirps brightly, and you’re immediately on guard. While the offer seems innocent enough on the surface you can’t help but wonder if the next video is one of their wilder ones (you don’t care if the underwear is silver-infused and apparently wicks away smell and moisture, you flat out refuse to wear the same panties for a whole week). Fortunately your fears are assuaged when Seulgi seems to read your mind and answers your question before you have the chance to ask it. “We’re trying to recreate elaborate Instagram makeup looks with dollar store makeup.”

Irene giggles behind the camera when you visibly relax. “I’m in, that sounds fun,” you say, and both girls seem inordinately pleased. “Um, when are you planning to shoot it?”

“Tomorrow! It won’t take long, we promise,” Seulgi says. “You just need to be free for filming, we’ll do all the editing and stuff.”

You finalise the exact time you need to be available by and by the time Hoseok comes back from the toilet both girls have just gone. You stand up so that he can reclaim his seat, eyes glued to your tablet as you open up your Google Calendar so you can put the Ladylike video filming in, but you’re interrupted when Hoseok grabs you. You squeal in surprise when he tugs you back down rather than letting you sit down yourself, tablet getting sandwiched between the two of you as you end up straddling him in a desperate attempt to catch your balance- but before you can resituate yourself he starts to tickle you and you end up laughing uproariously into his face.

“Cute, cute, my Y/n is so cute,” he sing-songs, and you continue to laugh as you try to bat his hands away.

“Stop, oh my God, Hobi!” There are tears of laughter in the corners of your eyes as you squirm in his lap, trying to get away from his hands but being prevented from doing so by the desk at your back; you’re trapped between it and Hoseok, entirely at his mercy as the two of you giggle at each other.

“You realise other people work here, right?”

Yoongi has finally reappeared. He sounds disgruntled, but you put it down to the fact he has KITTY AVAILABLE FOR ADOPTION and a phone number scrawled across his face in what appears to be permanent marker, rather than at the fact that you and Hoseok are making noise. As Hoseok’s deskmate he’s used to this sort of behaviour by now.

“Hey hyung,” Hoseok says, shameless as his fingers continue to dance up and down your sides, although the touches are light enough now that you can turn your attention away from giggling to appreciate Yoongi’s new look. “Did you have a good nap?”

“A cat nap,” you say, and then giggle at the unimpressed look Yoongi throws your way- it’s hard to find him scary with the multi-coloured letters scribbled over his face.

He grunts as he sits down. “I’ll kill those kids,” he says, but there’s no real heat behind his words, and he slumps into his chair with a resigned sigh. “I kept scrubbing at my face but this shit won’t come off.”

You exchange a look with Hoseok, the two of you thinking about the hand sanitiser you keep in your handbag- the alcoholic gel would probably lift the ink off Yoongi’s face, but neither of you offer up this information. “I’m sure it’ll come off by tomorrow,” you say, and Yoongi makes a hopeful noise at the back of this throat. "Any particular reason why you've decided to act as a walking billboard for abandoned cats?"

"Thing 1 and Thing 2 said they were raising awareness for a local cat shelter and asked if I wanted to help. I said yes." Yoongi sounds rueful. 

"I feel very aware of it, hyung, so I'd say they did a good job." Hoseok laughs when Yoongi just flips him off.

Hoseok’s hands have gone still by this point. It’s not until Yoongi starts to tap at his keyboard that you remember the position you’re in, straddling Hoseok in his chair, your hands on his shoulders and his hands on your waist as you lean back against his desk- but as questionable and potentially incriminating as this entire situation seems out of context, literally no one is batting an eyelid. People are used to seeing this sort of thing from you two, both comfortable and not awkward with each other at all.

Hoseok's hands are warm and steady where they wrap around your waist. You're struck again by how large they feel- supportive, as always, when he holds you. 

"Mind letting me go, cowboy?" You say. "I should go back to my desk to get some work done."

"You're more of a cowboy in this situation," Hoseok says, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "Seeing as you're the one that's doing the riding."

"Good lord," Yoongi mutters.

You laugh at the expression on his face before Hoseok wheels you both away from the desk so that you have room to swing your legs off him. "That's dirty, Hobi," you say, but it's said with a smile and wink.

After you've disappeared, waving at the two men, Yoongi raises an eyebrow at Hoseok. "I know you two are basically married at this point, but can you try and rein in the flirting when I'm trying to work?"

"We weren't flirting," Hoseok protests. Yoongi looks unconvinced, his other eyebrow rising to match the first, and just shakes his head before he resumes Googling ways to get the permanent marker off his face.

--

Irene’s touch is light as she puts the makeup onto your face, surveying her work critically as she does. 

“Alright, that’s the foundation done,” she says, once everything seems to have passed whatever rigorous criteria she has. “So we're onto the concealer next.”

There’s something soothing about having someone else do your makeup. Not to mention that you don’t have to worry at all about the production of the video- with your usual projects, your level of investment means that there’s always something to think about, but right now all you have to do is sit there and look pretty. You do listen and react whenever Irene shows you the products and so on, but otherwise, you are literally just sitting there and letting the other woman put stuff on your face; you can relax and unwind and let her take the lead.

Irene has just finished blending the concealer under your eyes when your phone vibrates in your pocket. While she's rummaging for the next product- setting powder- you quickly check your phone to see if it's anything important. It's Hoseok, asking where you are, because he has a coffee and Danish pastry for you and he can't find you; you realise then that you never put the Ladylike video filming into your calendar, distracted by Hoseok grabbing you, and today you'd just disappeared without telling him where you were going. Oops.

You quickly shoot him a reply before Irene starts to brush the powder across your face and you're both surprised at how well it sets. "Your skin is so nice," Irene says with a smile, sweeping the brush over your cheeks. You try not to laugh when the bristles tickles your face, flattered at her comment.

She's just finished doing your brows when you hear the studio door open and you catch sight of Hoseok. He's staying off camera next to Wendy so he doesn't get in the shot, quiet and unobtrusive, but you can't help but perk up when you see him. Although you stay silent so that it doesn’t interrupt the filming, Irene notices how you brighten and pauses in her motions to look over where Hoseok is standing.

"Hi, Hoseok." Much to your surprise, despite the fact that the cameras are rolling, Irene still greets Hoseok. You thought she'd make him wait until you were done. "You're here for Y/n, I presume?"

"I have a coffee for her," Hoseok says, a little sheepish, holding up an iced macchiato and a paper bag that's got a small grease stain spreading on it, a tantalising glimpse of the deliciousness inside. "I just came to drop it off?"

"I don't deserve you, Hobi," you say, beaming, and he smiles back at you. 

Irene gestures for Hoseok to come into the frame. There’s a brief moment where you and Hoseok exchange a small, surprised look- Irene is rummaging through eyeshadow palettes and seems like she’s still going through with the video even though Hoseok is about to walk on set- but he acquiesces and steps into the shot. Irene points at the Instagram photo she has open on her iPad, which is propped on the table so she can use it for reference and zoom in if necessary. “We’re doing this look with dollar store products."

“Woah,” Hoseok says, leaning down to peer at the picture, and he sounds suitably awed. “That’s really nice. You’ve chosen one with all of Y/n’s favourite colours.”

“It’s cute, right?” You’re so excited to see the final product, even if it ends up not looking as good as what you can see on the screen, considering the cheapness of the makeup that Irene is using.

“Not as cute as you,” Hoseok says, and you blow him a kiss before looking at the iced macchiato in his hands meaningfully.

“Coffee, coffee?” You sound hopeful but Irene tuts.

“You’ll need to keep your eyes shut while I do your eyeshadow,” she says.

Before you can begin to feel disappointed, Hoseok comes to the rescue. “Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you.”

And so that’s how you end up with Hoseok holding the straw of your iced coffee up to your lips while Irene applies the different shades and shimmers to your eyelids, your eyes shut as she does so; Hoseok makes appropriate ooh-ing noises, bowled over by how she manages to blend the cheap eyeshadows before doing a cut crease- you have to keep your eyes shut the whole time, letting the concealer dry on your lids so that it doesn’t smudge, gauging how it looks based on Hoseok's reactions. 

Every so often Hoseok will make a small noise and then you’ll feel the straw press up against your lips, and you’ll take a sip of your drink while Irene is switching colours or brushes; you feel thoroughly pampered today and you’re enjoying it immensely. She’s been describing the different products and their quality to the camera throughout the whole video, but now that Hoseok’s there, he responds to what she’s saying, making her giggle with how enthusiastic he is despite not recognising all the terminology she’s using. Although your eyes are shut you can't help but smile: that's your Hoseok, always lightening the atmosphere and making people laugh.

“Alright, you can open your eyes,” Irene says after what feels like a lifetime. The liquid eyeliner has dried by the time your eyes flutter open, the stark blackness against the expertly blended eyeshadows the first thing you notice when you look at yourself in the mirror.

“Woah, Irene! This is incredible!" You turn your head from side to side, taking in how different your eyes look after the ministrations of Irene's skilled hands. "Hobi, look at those wings! I wish I could get mine that even.” You don’t often wear liquid liner and when you do it takes you eons to get them to match, making each side bigger as you try to match the other- most of the time you just give up.

“You do look incredible,” Hoseok agrees. You look away from the mirror to smile brightly at him and then take another drink of coffee when he lifts it back up to your lips; the straw makes loud slurping noises as you reach the bottom of the cup and you end up sucking up more air than liquid, much to your disappointment. He chuckles at the look on your face but then coos when you pout. 

“I’m not done just yet, you know,” Irene says, unperturbed by your interactions. You wonder how this footage is going to turn out after the edit. “We still have lips and cheeks to do.”

Despite the fact your coffee is finished, Hoseok still remains next to you and watches Irene work. She lines your lips and then paints them a pleasant nude colour, before going in with an extra touch to your contour, and blush, and highlight (you’re genuinely in awe at the selection of makeup you can apparently get for a dollar each). There are so many steps involved in the execution of this look and you wonder how long it would take you to try and do this yourself, before deciding there aren’t enough hours in the day, even if Irene makes it look easy, finishing your face with a flourish.

“Alright, done!”

You pick the mirror up to tilt your head at different angles. You catch the way the highlight shimmers on your cheekbones and cupid’s bow, the way your eyes look after they’ve been shaded with colour and glitter, the sharpness of your brows, the fullness of your lips. 

“I can’t believe this was all dollar store makeup,” you say, awestruck. “It’s so much like the photo! I look so good.”

“Irene had an already perfect canvas to work with,” Hoseok says, and you end up smiling so widely your eyes almost squeeze shut.

“Flatterer,” you say.

“You two are so cute.” Seulgi sighs wistfully from behind the cameras and Wendy muffles a quiet cough into her palm.

Irene asks for your opinions on the makeup- you, moreso on how it feels on your face, and Hoseok, if he thinks it looks close to the Instagram photo (he does, but he's clearly biased because you're involved, which he doesn't try to hide). Once the cameras have been cut and everything has been wrapped up, Irene says you can go and so you hop off your chair. Before you can get too far, though, Hoseok stops you, touching his fingers gently under your chin. 

“Let me have a proper look.”

You immediately relax and let him tip your head slowly from one side to the other, eyes scanning across your makeup, which feels a lot heavier than you’d expected, but you’re still happy with how nice it is.

“Wah, so beautiful,” Hoseok says, a small smile on his face; it’s one of his softer ones, one that doesn’t show his teeth or his dimples, but rather squeezes his eyes into crescents, his gaze warm. Still blinding but in a different way.

“Irene did a really good job, didn’t she?” You say, enthused. Hoseok pauses, but then his teeth show as the smile grows.

“Yeah, she did.”

"Maybe I should get her to give me makeup lessons so I can look prettier more often." You've never been all too great at the more refined parts of makeup- blending eyeshadow or contouring, for example- but maybe you should add it to your repertoire, you muse.

Hoseok's smile dims as he becomes oddly sombre, hand shifting to cup the bottom of your chin so your face is gently cradled in his hand. "You're gorgeous all the time, makeup or not," he says. "Makeup is fun and you do look great but please don't think you need it to be pretty."

A shy smile plays at your lips. You feel bashful but you can't hide from Hoseok's gaze when he's holding onto you like this, but it wouldn’t matter even if you did. Hoseok knows you well enough to read your moods if you attempt to hide them- but because you trust him you don’t try to. 

"Ahh, you're too sweet to me, Hoseok," you murmur. He always compliments you, but the thing with Hoseok is that he always means it, and although you should be used to it, it still catches you off guard every time. 

"You deserve it." The soft smile has returned to his face and he lets his fingers drop away from your chin to tangle with yours to lead you out of the studio. “Now come on, you still have your pastry to eat.”

“I totally forgot about that! Oh, but I’ll probably smudge my lipstick.” Your sudden excitement about food dips instantly as you realise this. “I mean, I doubt dollar store stuff has much staying power anyway, but it’ll definitely smear onto the pastry, like, immediately.”

“I’ll cut it up into small pieces for you,” Hoseok says, and you make a noise of happiness as the door to the Ladylike studio shuts behind you both.

Seulgi and Wendy and Irene all look at each other, the two of you all but forgetting that they'd been standing there and had thus witnessed that entire exchange in excruciating detail. Wendy and Seulgi both open their mouths but before they can speak Irene holds up a hand. “I know,” she says. “Trust me. I know.”

--

Around the office, Jin might be renowned for his silliness, propensity towards dad jokes and loud laughter, but on set- while he’s still very much himself- he’s a professional and takes safety in the kitchen Very Seriously.

“If you damage any of my equipment with your clumsy fingers, I will grate so much parmesan down your throat that you die of cheese asphyxiation.”

“Sounds kinky,” Hoseok laughs, but then he jumps behind you when Jin brandishes a decorative pineapple at him as if he’s about to brain the other man. 

“Babe, I’m not about to explain to your family that your final words were, and I quote, ‘sounds kinky’, especially if it was before Jin offed you via fermented dairy products,” you say, although you still shield Hoseok with your body- as if there was any chance you’d be able to stop Jin if he was on the warpath. His shoulders are so broad. Still, you’d fight him for Hoseok if you had to.

“My family love you, I think they’d be okay with it,” Hoseok says from behind you. Jin makes a weird expression with his face before he sets the pineapple back down onto the table next to the rest of your equipment, raising his eyebrows at something; before you can ask what’s up, you’re distracted by the sensation of Hoseok’s hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “It’s okay, Jin, Y/n and I cook together all the time. We won’t mess up.”

“Hobi’s really good at cooking,” you pipe up, and Hoseok affectionately nuzzles at the crown of your head. You cook dinner together at least once a week, trying to use different recipes each time- cooking is a great hobby because you get food at the end of it, and cooking with Hoseok is especially great because you get an excuse to break out the candles and fancy tablecloth your mother had gifted you, even if your food is something simple. 

(You never thought you’d learn multiple ways to fold a napkin, but Hoseok is always so excited whenever he sees you start to crimp them into shape, so you like to mix things up for him.)

Jin’s face shifts back into that look that you’re starting to think looks like he’s eaten something that he’s not sure if he likes or not- a little disbelieving, perplexed, resigned. You never get a chance to ask why, though: Jin claps his hands and tells you to put on your aprons so you can start filming, and you eagerly pull it over your head before helping Hoseok tie his behind his back. (Jin makes the face again, but you’re too busy tying a cute bow to notice.)

Jin seems genuinely impressed when it turns out that the two of you have been telling the truth. Of course, the Tasty team member is directing you and giving instructions so it’s not as difficult as it might be otherwise, but he ends up surprisingly uninvolved with the physical part of the process; you and Hoseok hand jobs off to each other and work in tandem to prepare the dough and filling, and once the pie is in the oven you even begin to clean everything up unprompted, moving around each other with an unconscious level of ease. 

Jin just ends up sitting on a stool and watching you do his ‘minion work’ although you think he just doesn’t want to get in the way. Hoseok hipchecks you gently and then giggles when you pretend to be pushed back by the strength of the motion and flop dramatically over the sink.

“How often do you two cook together?” Although the question is technically directed at the both of you, for some reason you get the feeling that Jin is aiming this more towards Hoseok, who answers him.

“Usually two or three times a week,” Hoseok says.

“Hmm. I see.” Jin looks thoughtful, and you can’t help but feel like there’s something you’re missing in this simple question and answer exchange. Hoseok has an expression on his face that you’ve never seen before- which you’d thought was impossible, because you know Hoseok inside and out, and it’s confusing. You feel surprisingly unsettled by it.

Your best friend seems like he’s trying to cut whatever tension’s in the air by turning his attention back to tidying up, but he fumbles when he goes to shut a drawer and catches his fingers. He’s barely had time to make a small ow noise before you’re there, lifting his hand and inspecting it carefully. “Stop distracting my boy, Jin, let him focus on cleaning up your messy ass kitchen,” you say.

“Excuse you, my kitchen is a temple, it’s only a mess because you’ve been in here,” Jin says primly.

“Sounds like something a messy person would say.” You would roll your eyes but they’re focused on the reddened skin of Hoseok’s fingers. They just look slightly pinched, nothing major, but still. You’re careful when you touch him. You don’t want him to hurt any further. “Are you okay, baby?”

“No.” He sniffles and his lip wobbles dramatically and you laugh. You do what you always do when Hoseok hurts himself in some small, superficial way- you lift his hand to your lips and gently kiss the fingers he’d gotten caught, inflamed skin already fading back to its usual colour, pain clearly already gone. 

“There,” you declare. “All better.”

Hoseok’s expression is warm and tender as he looks at you, his fingers still cradled in yours as you look up from your touching hands, and your gazes lock. There’s a brief moment of stillness, a second that starts to crystallise into something more, and you’d swear his face had just started inching forwards when there’s suddenly an almighty clattering noise from behind you and you both jump, the moment broken.

“Oops,” Jin says blithely. You turn around to discover that all the pineapple related knick-knacks and decor on the table are now scattered on the floor around him, a tangle of paper decorations and plastic fruit that’s rolling across the room. “I seem to have slipped.”

“Weren’t you just going on about how messy we were?” You raise an eyebrow at him, but you’ve already turned away from Hoseok to squat down and help Jin tidy up, chasing down an errant pineapple. You don’t see the pointed look that Jin gives Hoseok behind your back, and when you turn around with the over-large pineapple clutched in your arms, both men seem to be acting like normal. “I’m going to pay Namjoon to keep that in the final cut so everyone can see how chaotic you are in the kitchen.”

“Joonie would never betray me like that,” Jin says with completely unearned confidence, just like he does with most things- but the sad thing is, he’s right. Namjoon is too much of a professional to keep unnecessary shots in the video, and besides, Jin seems able to get away with being outrageously chaotic because he’s so charming and pulls it off so well. If the footage of him somehow sending everything to the floor was kept in the video, people would probably love it.

Once the pie is done cooking and has finally cooled enough for Jin to cut it into triangular shapes, you’re so excited to eat it that you’re bouncing up and down on the spot a little. Hoseok is too. Jin humours your excitement with understanding- he loves to eat too- although he raises his eyebrows at the way you and Hoseok lock your arms together before you lean forward to take a bite of the pineapple pie. You let out a muffled little groan into the pastry once it finally touches your tongue, sweet tartness of the pineapple exploding across your tastebuds, pastry buttery and flakey as it melts in your mouth.

“Jin, this is so good,” you say, and Hoseok hums around a mouthful of fruit filling in agreement.

“I think your ghost was onto something,” Jin says. He’s already polished off his slice, while you and Hoseok are barely halfway through your own, disentangling your arms so you can focus on eating properly. Sometimes you wonder if Jin just unhinges his jaw and swallows things whole because you’ve never seen someone who can eat as quickly as he can. “They could see you pining.”

Your face twists in confusion. “What?”

“You know… pining… like a pineapple,” Jin says, before giggling to himself like he’s just told the world’s funniest joke. You raise your eyebrows at Hoseok, but then you take another bite of the pie and immediately forget about Jin’s cryptic nonsense.

“This is so good, isn’t it, Hobi?” You ask.

“It’s so sweet and light and delicious,” Hoseok says. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“I thought we were talking about the pie, not me, Hoseok,” Jin says, and then lets out peals of squeaky laughter when you roll your eyes.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I think you can get a cream for that,” Jin continues to laugh, before you throw a paper pineapple at him.

--

There’s still pie left over the next day. Of course, you’ve saved slices for the rest of your crew. Jimin and Taehyung are snacking on slices of pie as they help each other set up the cameras and mics in the studio, making sure the lighting hits you and Hoseok so that you stand out against the room behind you. Today’s the day you’ve set aside to film the 70th episode, and you’re excited for the chance to do an official retrospective of the show so that you can look back at all the places you’ve been to and the things you’ve discussed, as well as plans for the future.

“Did the two of you coordinate your outfits for the video?” Tae says curiously, and you glance down at your clothes. It’s only then you realise that- although your outfit is darker than his- there are flowers on Hoseok’s bomber jacket and your dress is covered in a floral pattern.

“Huh, I didn’t even notice,” you mutter as you pluck at your dress.  “Guess we’re just telepathic.”

Hoseok stays silent, strangely enough, but when you hold your hand up for a high five he responds enthusiastically and continues to grip your hand afterwards, which makes you laugh. “That’s friendship,” he says, and you laugh again, squeezing his hand.

The two of you keep laughing as the cameras start to roll, watching the clips from your most popular episodes so far, between answering commonly asked questions from fans- one of the more frequently asked being ‘why did Hoseok agree to be a co-host when he always seems scared during filming and screams all the time?’

You read this question off your list and Hoseok’s answer is immediate. “Y/n is one of the hardest workers I know,” he says. “So I was excited to be invited on board for a show that she had created. And I wouldn’t say that I’m always screaming-”

“Yeah, when you have to pause to breathe,” you interject, and he laughs.

“Sure,” he says indulgently. “But, honestly, when Y/n is there it’s easy to forget that we’re standing in some terrifying old building or haunted tomb or whatever.” You rest your chin on your hand as you watch him continue to speak. “I would honestly be a lot more scared if she wasn’t there. She’s very good at distracting me if I’m getting too worried. She’s very comforting.”

“That’s a nice way of saying that I’m basically a defence mechanism for you.”

“Basically.” Hoseok grins at you so widely, teeth on show, gorgeous. 

Now that he mentions it, it’s true that as your friendship has grown, his fear has ebbed; although he still screams as loudly as before, it happens less often, but because sudden noises and jump scares always startle him, it still happens a lot. If you don’t take the time to reflect it’s kind of easy to forget how your friendship has grown over time, which is why it’s another good reason to have this retrospective- for the sake of the series, sure, but your relationship with Hoseok has grown as the show has, too.

When you flip over the final page to read the final question, you’re surprised to see an extra one tacked onto the end- you’d been the one to select them, after all, and this one has been added after the fact, someone’s messy handwriting scratched across the paper. You don’t recognise the writing. Honestly it kind of looks like someone had written it with their non-dominant hand to avoid detection, almost like a child’s writing from a cartoon, all but missing the backward E’s- but the question is pretty innocuous, so you figure you may as well answer it. You can just ask Namjoon to cut the footage later if you don’t like it.

“Y/n: If Hoseok decided to quit being your co-host, who would you want to replace him?” You squint at the paper as you decipher the scrawl, not seeing how Jimin and Taehyung exchange a sly, down-low high five off camera. “Huh.”

“You started the series with Yoongi, right?” Hoseok pipes up. “Would you bring him back?”

You’d chosen Yoongi as your original co-host for Unsolved because you vibed well and had pretty similar opinions when it came to a lot of things, and you’d worked well together in the past, but the truth is that- “No, I wouldn’t,” you say immediately. Hoseok seems genuinely surprised. “Honestly, if you stopped co-hosting with me, that would be the end of Unsolved. Hoseok and I are a package deal at this point and I would never consider filming the show without him.”

Hoseok looks stunned, but you keep going. “The show wouldn’t exist without Hoseok. Yoongi was great for the videos he was in, but- even if he didn’t have other commitments, he couldn’t take over from Hobi. Unsolved isn’t just a show about the supernatural, or crimes, it’s about us dealing with the supernatural or true crimes,” you continue, and then your nose wrinkles as you realise what you’ve said. “Well, we don’t directly deal with true crimes, fortunately. I’d make a terrible detective. My hand isn’t steady enough to draw one of those chalk outlines, y’know? I’d probably just end up drawing someone who looked suspiciously like Kirby. Anyway, Hoseok is my best friend as well as my co-host; if you get one of us, you get both of us, and if you don’t get both of us, you get neither of us.”

“I love you, Y/n,” Hoseok says. It’s not the first time he’s said this to you, but you think it’s the first time he’s ever said it on camera, and his tone is strangely earnest. He must be getting really nostalgic about the start of the show if it’s making him sound like that.

“Love you too, Hobi.” You beam at him. “I’m really glad we became friends.”

Behind the cameras, Taehyung makes a weird croaking sound and Jimin hits him hard on the arm.

“Uh, normally when someone's choking you hit them on the back, Minnie,” you say.

“I’m not choking, I’m fine,” Taehyung wheezes. Jimin punches him again.

“Uh-huh.” You raise an eyebrow. “Anyway. What was I saying. Oh! Yeah, referring back to the question- while I would never stop him if he thought it was the right thing to do, I certainly hope that Hobi doesn’t want to quit being a co-host.”

“I would never.” Hoseok’s expression is weirdly intense as he says this and you can’t help but laugh.

“Good! I’m glad we’re both in it for the long haul.”

Taehyung still looks kind of constipated once filming is over, but before you can ask him what’s up, Jimin pulls him to the corner of the room and the two men exchange some quiet words. They seem oddly serious and you purse your lips as you try to work out what’s going on, but then Hoseok’s hand slips into yours and your attention is drawn away from them.

“Celebratory 70th episode filming dinner?”

“I thought we were going to have a celebratory dinner with our minions when the episode actually aired,” you say, tilting your head at Taehyung and Jimin. “Didn’t you put it in the GCal?”

“I meant just you and me,” Hoseok says, squeezing your hand gently. “A co-host only dinner.”

“Ooh, we’re in an exclusive club, are we?” You giggle and squeeze his hand back. “Sure, why not. Can we have pizza? I’m feeling like pizza.”

“You can have anything you want, baby,” Hoseok answers, affection written across all his features. You go all wobbly inside, your insides melting into a puddle of goo at how warm and tender he is. You love your best friend so much. “Let’s leave those two to it, it seems like they’re busy.”

You look back over at your cameramen. Jimin has his cheeks puffed out and Taehyung looks chagrined. You purse your lips again, a little unsure if you should leave them if they’re having some sort of disagreement, but then Hoseok slips his hand out of yours and crouches down in a way that you recognise instantly. You make a noise of happiness and leap up, letting him lift you into a piggyback; you lock your arms around his neck and start to giggle as he bounces you a little, getting his hands comfortable under your calves.

“We’re off!” Hoseok announces. Jimin and Taehyung look away from their discussion to the two of you, their expressions both mirrors of each other as their eyebrows rise in unison when they spot how Hoseok is carrying you. “We’ll leave you to tidy the studio.”

“Enjoy the rest of the pie!” You wiggle your fingers at them in a little wave before squealing when Hoseok hitches you up his back again without warning, tightening your grip on him. “Pizza time, Hobi, let’s go.”

“Your wish is my command, princess,” Hoseok says, waggling his eyebrows in a way that makes you laugh before you bury your head in his hair, stifling your giggles against his scalp. He smells so nice and soft and lovely, familiar, like home.

“Wow, they’re unbelievable,” Jimin whispers behind you, though you don’t hear him, more focused on not bumping your head in the doorway as Hoseok walks you both out of the studio. 

You end up going to your favourite pizzeria, sitting at your usual booth in the corner. You’ve been here so many times with Hoseok that you don’t need to look at the menu and just order your usual half-and-half, feeding each other slices of garlic bread and struggling with the gooey, molten cheese that seems to stretch endlessly from your slices of pizza. You feel warm and comfortable, your feet brushing under the small table whenever you shift your legs, laughing each time Hoseok traps your foot under his before letting you go.

“I can’t believe we’ve done 70 episodes,” you say, leaning back against the smooth leather of the booth seat after you’ve stolen a sip of Hoseok’s Sprite. “I never thought we’d get this far. I honestly thought you’d have died of fright by now,” you tease, swinging your leg gently against his.

“If I die, I’ll haunt you from beyond the grave,” Hoseok says, pulling a face at you that’s clearly meant to be ghoulish, and you laugh.

“I’ll take the spirit box home from work so you can talk to me.” You lean your elbow on the table and rest your chin on your palm, still smiling. “Obviously you’d do the same for me, right?”

“As long as you kept other ghosts away from it,” Hoseok says, shivering. “I don’t want to have to talk to them too.”

“I promise. I’ll be the only thing haunting you, don’t worry.”

Hoseok smiles at you, eyes warm. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

You share a banana split for dessert. You’re pretty full so Hoseok eats the majority of it, which gives you the opportunity to watch him, the way his dimples appear when he chews; you must have watched him eat a thousand times but you’re never any less endeared by the sight.

“I meant what I said, you know,” you say suddenly, and Hoseok looks up, cheeks bulging with ice cream and banana.

“Hmrh?” He makes a noise of questioning around his mouthful of food, and you laugh when you spot a smear of chocolate sauce on his chin. You swipe it away with your thumb before mindlessly sucking it off, too distracted by the sweetness bursting across your tongue to notice how Hoseok stares at the motion with wide eyes. He swallows. “What?”

“When I said that I was glad that we became friends,” you say. “When I first asked you to star in an episode I never thought we’d end up here, you know? But… I’m really happy. And I really do love you a lot, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smiles all the time. In fact, you’d say he spends more time smiling than he doesn’t, happiness always radiating from his face like sunlight shining down from the sky, golden and bright- but the smile he gives you right now is softer than that. It’s more like the softness of the sunrise, spilling over you through just-opened curtains, warm and gentle and comforting.

“I love you too, Y/n,” he says. “More than anything.”

You put a hand over your face as you giggle bashfully at the earnest look on his face. “Stop,” you whine. “You’re so cheesy, oh my God.”

“You said it first,” Hoseok points out, but he starts to laugh along with you, before the server comes over to give you your bill and you end up fighting over who pays- Hoseok wins, much to your disappointment, but lets you front the tip as a compromise.

As always he catches the subway with you and holds your hand all the way home, only letting go when you get to the door of your apartment building. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he says, and you glance up from where you’ve been rummaging in your bag for your keys.

“Bright and early as always,” you reply, smiling. “I’ll make sure to bring your casserole dish back tomorrow, it’s still on my counter. I’ll make you some lunch to make up for how long I’ve kept it.”

“Okay.” Hoseok watches as you finally unearth your keys, jingling them triumphantly as you do. “Baby?”

“Hm?” You look up from where you’ve been fitting the keys into the lock. “Yes?”

“I meant it when I said it, too.” He looks oddly sombre, none of the usual levity on his face. “I love you more than anything, Y/n.”

Your heart seizes in your chest, stuttering a little at his tone and his expression. He’s told you that he loves you, sure, and you always say it back, but Hoseok’s never said it like this: like there’s more meaning behind his words than normal. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, frozen in place, key still pressed into the lock- but before you can gather your thoughts Hoseok’s face is morphing into his usual smile before he dips forwards and kisses you on the forehead.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow! Don’t forget the casserole dish!” 

And then he’s bouncing down the steps just like he always does, turning momentarily to give you a jaunty wave before walking briskly back in the direction of the subway.

“See you tomorrow,” you echo faintly, feeling off kilter and off balance as you watch him disappear into the distance.

--

Okay. So. You’ve told yourself on multiple occasions that, nowadays, what you feel for Hoseok is entirely platonic. He’s your best friend, and you love him, and it’s very easy to feel romantically inclined towards your friends sometimes because friendship involves love, and you should be friends with your romantic partners anyway, so there’s a lot of overlap. You may have lingering memories of your crush, yes, but you’re over it. 

At least, you could have sworn you were. So why are you projecting onto Hoseok again all of a sudden? When he said he loved you, it wasn’t a romantic confession, despite what your instincts might be telling you. Your brain is screaming at you to look at it logically, and you’re trying your best to tell yourself that, that it Wasn’t Romantic and it was Just Hoseok Being Hoseok, the man who tells all his friends that he loves them on a regular basis, it wasn’t romantic.

“Morning, baby,” Hoseok says, smiling at you, before noticing both the coffees you’re holding. “Ooh, is one of those for me?”

“Hi.” Your voice is weirdly breathless. “Yeah, I got your favourite.”

Hoseok lights up and makes grabby hands at you, and you feel utterly helpless as you hand it over. You feel like Past-Y/n, a previous version of yourself, the one that was still new to BigHit and used to get all in a muddle when Hoseok so much as looked at you. You feel like you’re rediscovering your crush all over again, like some sort of giddy schoolgirl, and you kind of want to slap yourself- but then Hoseok takes a sip of his coffee and makes a little noise of pleasure and all that self-hatred turns to static, replaced with nothing but affection for the man holding the door open for you.

You manage to keep it together pretty well, for the most part, you think. It’s not until you leave your computer to speak to Hoseok about something that you nearly lose it. He sees you coming and smiles widely, instinctively wheeling away his desk and patting his lap in invitation. Your brain goes blank as you panic and you abruptly swerve and act like you were walking over to Jungkook the whole time, missing the way Hoseok’s face drops with disappointment.

You’ve been lurking to one side of Jungkook’s desk for a few minutes before the man acknowledges you, looking away from the video he’s apparently editing to raise an eyebrow at you. 

“Are you lost? Hobi-hyung is over there.” Jungkook starts to point but then you grab his hand before anyone notices, pushing it back down against his desk.

“I know where Hobi is,” you say through gritted teeth. Jungkook blinks at you as you continue to trap his hand against his desk, tightening your grip when his fingers twitch. “I am having a small crisis and I would appreciate it if you let me pretend to have a conversation with you about work.”

Jungkook looks baffled but doesn’t argue, clearly a little scared of how tightly you’re grasping his fingers. “Um, okay,” he says, slowly. “Do you need to hold my hand at the same time?”

You look down at where your hands are still connected before you release him. He flexes his fingers with a wince. “Wow, you’re a lot stronger than you look.” He sounds impressed. “Have you been working out?”

“I bench press the weight of my stupidity daily,” you sigh. Jungkook lets your words pass without comment, putting his free hand back onto his mouse and resuming his work. You squint at his screen, intrigued. “What are you working on?”

You end up perching on Jungkook’s desk as he talks you through his most recent project, and how he and Tae have almost finished putting together the cat shelter video- you coo at all the footage of the different cats, small kittens to mangy strays, scruffy and cute. You’re too busy laughing at the unflattering shots they have of Yoongi while he’d been sleeping before they’d written across his face and you don’t notice how Hoseok keeps looking over with a mix of confusion and almost hurt flashing across his features. 

He doesn't show any of this when you meet him later, though. You’ve recomposed yourself by the time lunch rolls around and you manage to return Hoseok’s casserole dish without fumbling. Despite your inner turmoil last night you’d still made time to pack lunch for the two of you, using the cute lunchboxes that Hoseok’s family had given you last Christmas- he lights up when he sees the dosirak you’ve packed, fluffy rice and other side dishes, all of his favourites.

“You are a blessing,” he says, and you smile as he eagerly dives in. You tackle your own food more slowly, having to approach the kimbap carefully because of how you’d been overzealous with the filling. “Ooh, can I have some of that?”

“Sure,” you say, gesturing at the bite sized slices in the tub in front of you. Instead of taking one of those, however, Hoseok leans forward for the piece of kimbap you’ve already grabbed. You’re frozen in place as you feel his lips around your fingers, teeth lightly grazing your skin as you instinctively surrender the food to his mouth, a light swipe of his tongue over your fingertips to catch the light sheen of sesame oil there, soft and wet against your touch. 

Hoseok leans back and chews like nothing is out of the ordinary- and to be fair, you’ve fed finger foods to him before, it’s not out of the ordinary, but right now you feel like you’re on the verge of a meltdown. Your brain keeps replaying the past few seconds, the softness of his lips around your fingers, the wet of his tongue against them, the way his eyelashes had fanned out against his cheek as he’d glanced down at the food in your hand. You are Very Much Not Okay.

Hoseok is still happily chewing his kimbap, swallowing it down and taking a sip of water before he seems to notice that you’ve gone eerily silent. “Y/n?” He blinks at you. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” you say. “Um. I just remembered that I. Have a thing? I have to? Go do? You can eat the rest, seeyoulaterBYE.”

You can’t let this crush rear its head like this again and make your friendship awkward. The two of you have shared the same bed more times than you can count, for God’s sake, and you’ve even discussed rooming together- the rent in LA isn’t exactly cheap, and if you pooled your resources you could get a pretty nice place- and that had all been okay! That hadn’t made you feel strange at all! But Hoseok eats food from your hand like he has a thousand times and you’re spiralling out of control like this? Why is this happening now?

Ugh. Ughughughugh. Stupid.

Namjoon finds you hidden away in the Unsolved studio later, where you’ve absconded with your tablet to try your best to get some work done with your limited resources, hidden away from everyone; it’s weird being in here when you’re not filming, without Hoseok in the seat next to you, so you’re not really doing a great job. (You’ve spent more time blankly watching Queer Eye on Netflix than you have being productive.)

“Hey, Y/n.” Namjoon’s gentle voice is like a balm to your soul. Hoseok might be your best friend now, but Namjoon was your friend first and the two of you are still close, both in and out of work. He’d made you feel comfortable and welcome when you’d first joined the team and continues to support all your projects. He’s a really great friend and colleague and an even better person.

You smile at him as he shuts the door. You can tell he’s trying to do it quietly but ends up accidentally slamming it loudly, and you stifle a laugh as you notice the guilt that appears on his face.

“Joonie! Come on in.” You beckon at the seat next to you, scooting away a little so he plenty of room to sit. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just wanted to talk to you about some editing stuff but Hobi said you’d disappeared somewhere for a, um, ‘thing’.” Namjoon doesn’t comment on the fact that you still clearly have Queer Eye open on your tablet, Jonathan’s face a blur on the screen from where you’ve paused it during a transitional shot. Instead he sits carefully down next to you and leans back in the chair, adjusting his glasses; he looks particularly cozy today, with his glasses and jumper and cardigan. He pulls off the Hot Academic look really well. “Any particular reason why you’ve squirreled yourself away here?”

You muffle a sigh, looking down at the notebook you have next to your tablet; what little handwriting is on the page is especially messy and disjointed, reflecting your distracted mind. Namjoon has a naturally reassuring presence anyway but his outfit today seems to accentuate that even further, like you could bury your head into the fuzziness of his jumper and find inner peace.

“Oh, okay, I suppose this is happening,” he says.

Yep, the jumper is just as soft as you’d thought, and it smells nice and soft too. Namjoon doesn’t seem bothered that you’ve smooshed your face into his shoulder and instead he angles himself so you’re both more comfortable, and he starts to pat your back soothingly. It’s nice, of course, but you can’t help but compare his touch to Hoseok’s- Namjoon is more methodical and measured, like he’s thinking about each motion, while Hoseok just seems smoother and more natural because he’s always touching you, second nature by now. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Ughughughughguhguh,” you say articulately into the weave of Namjoon’s clothing. He chuckles warmly.

“Long day?”

Good old Namjoon. A gentle question, open ended, offering you the opportunity to deflect, or tell him the truth. You turn your head to avoid getting jumper lint in your mouth, but stay leaned against him.

“Kind of,” you say. “It’s just…” You struggle to put it into words, but Namjoon just waits patiently while he continues to pat your back. “It’s Hobi?”

Namjoon’s hand goes still, though you’re not sure if it’s because of your words themselves or the tone of them, the way you pitched it up at the end like a question, like you weren’t too sure yourself. “Did he do something?”

“No! No. Yes? No,” you settle on. “No, no he didn’t. It’s not him, it’s me,” you say. “Ugh.”

You end up pulling away from Namjoon to scrub tiredly at your face, not noticing his expression, which he quickly reschools when you look back at him. “We were just doing our usual thing, you know,” you say, and Namjoon nods as he listens, even though your description is incredibly vague and could mean any number of things. “But then he said he loved me and like- we’re best friends, we say we love each other a lot, it’s not unusual or anything, but… I guess it got to me this time? Like it felt like something more than just friendship? He didn’t mean it like that, of course, but I guess it’s hard to, uh, shake that feeling now that it’s gotten into my head.”

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Although Namjoon seems a little perplexed he’s still clearly concerned, and your eyes widen.

“What? No, no, it’s fine! I don’t mind it. It’s more that-” You pause. You’ve never actually voiced your less-than-platonic feelings for Hoseok out loud, though you’re certain it must have been obvious to start with- even though no one had ever mentioned it or teased you about it, so maybe they hadn't noticed. 

Either way, it sort of feels like once you put the words out into the world then the truth will linger and be unavoidable in a way that you’ve been desperately avoiding so far. But it’s just you, and Namjoon, and you would trust Namjoon with your life, even if you wouldn’t trust him to hold anything fragile or delicate. “It’s not the idea of Hoseok loving me like that that makes me uncomfortable. I just don’t want things to be weird?” Namjoon continues to look levelly at you, waiting patiently for you to get to the point, and you take in a deep breath. “IhaveacrushonHobi,” you rush out. “And I don’t want to ruin the friendship by reading into things too much because I’m being overly hopeful or something.”

Namjoon pauses. He looks thoughtful as he fixes his gaze on you through his glasses. “Y/n.” He sounds solemn, like he’s discussing something of deep importance, like your tiny breakdown over your best friend requires the same level of gravity as the rapid disappearance of bees, or climate change- like it’s something world changing and heavy and important. He’s not doing what you’ve done over the years, as in, desperately tried to minimise your feelings just so you can stay sane. “You sound unhappy about it.”

“I am unhappy about it,” you say, unhappy. “Hobi is my best friend and I do love him a lot, and I’m happy being friends, and I reallyreallyreally don’t want to make things weird. I should be used to this by now, it’s not like what he and I do is anything I’m not used to.”

“Things change when romantic feelings develop,” Namjoon says, ever patient, and you let out a pained little groan.

“It’s not- these feelings aren’t new, Namjoon.” You sigh, and for the first time since you started this conversation, Namjoon looks surprised. Guess your crush on Hoseok hadn’t been obvious in the beginning, then. “I don’t know if I ever told you that I met Hoseok before I even got a job here, technically?”

You’d come out of your BigHit interview feeling unsure. Off balance. You hadn’t known if you’d come across as desperate and too eager to please, rather than a go-getter team player, but all you’d been able to think about was how getting a job at BigHit would mean that you could finally save up enough to move out of the awful shared room you were in with the mould in the corner that kept coming back no matter how many times you cleaned it. The interview had gone on longer than you thought and you barely had time to get to Starbucks before your shift started- if you got a job at BigHit you could finally quit that place- and you’d hurried to leave the building only to discover that it was raining.

“Oh,” you’d said. 

You’d stood in the reception area, staring out of the glass windows at the torrential downpour outside; it had been sunny earlier that day, no indication that the heavens were going to open, and you hadn’t brought a coat or umbrella with you. Your one nice interview outfit was going to get drenched, and it was going to stay wet in your locker at Starbucks while you were working, and basically the entire month had been just terrible and after a potentially wasted interview you just kind of wanted to cry.

Before the tears could start to pool in your eyes, however, Hoseok had appeared. Not that you’d known him or his name at the time, of course, but he’d swept into the building like some burst of sunlight that had cut through the clouds despite the rain, shaking an umbrella off before laughing at Yoongi’s disgruntled face at the scattering water. You’d been stunned by the sudden flare of energy in the room and were still standing there when Hoseok’s eyes fell on you, on your stance, the way you were staring at the grey skies outside and the obvious lack of an umbrella in your hands.

And he’d just- he’d just walked up to you like you were friends, like he knew you, and he’d proffered the still damp umbrella, like it was nothing.

“It’s raining pretty heavily out there,” he’d said, and he’d been smiling, and you’d looked at him in shock, and he’d laughed. “You’ll need this.”

“I- what?”

“You clearly need this more than me,” Hoseok had said, bright smile fading into something a little more gentle, and you’d accepted the umbrella with unsteady hands, unable to say no to this sunshine of a man. “Feel free to give it back whenever.”

“I- I don’t work here,” you’d admitted, shamefaced. “I’m just here for an interview.”

“So you can give it back to me once you get the job.” Hoseok had said it like it was a done deal, like there weren’t other people vying for the position you’d applied for, people who were probably infinitely more qualified and better in interviews. “Okay?”

For the first time that month, you’d felt like someone believed in you- because you certainly didn’t believe in yourself. But Hoseok had been smiling at you, with his heart shaped mouth and his bright eyes, and you’d felt like a flower basking in his rays, turning towards him as your petals unfurled in his light, and you’d said- “Sure. Yes. I will.”

Here, now, in the present, you look down at your hands as you finish telling this story. “I just put the umbrella on his desk when he wasn’t around, after I got the job,” you tell Namjoon. “I didn’t talk to Hobi for ages because I didn’t- I didn’t have the strength to look him in the face without, you know. Without making it obvious that I had a raging schoolgirl crush on him. And he never said anything about it- I don't think he even remembered me at all, he'd just given some person his umbrella because they needed it, you know? And then we became friends and my crush died down and everything was okay, but- I guess the crush never really went away after all. Ugh,” you say. “This sucks, Joon. It sucks.”

The way Namjoon looks at you is compassionate and soft. “I know,” he says. “It’s understandable that you’re worried about this, because your friendship with Hoseok is important to you. But I don’t think you have anything to be concerned about, really.”

“You’re just saying that,” you mumble, and Namjoon chuckles.

“No, I’m not,” he says, gently. “I think you need to be more confident in what you and Hoseok have. Even if you admitted your feelings and he didn’t feel the same, you know he loves you too much to throw your friendship away, and it’s strong enough that it can survive whatever’s thrown at it. But, if you’ll forgive me for speaking out of turn, I would wager you’re not the only one with romantic feelings, Y/n.”

“You’re very sweet, Joonie, but I really don’t think that’s the case.” You let out a little self-pitying sigh. “Hobi’s just so lovely to everyone, it probably seems like that because we’re best friends.”

One of Namjoon’s eyebrows rises. “Is that what you really think?”

“Yes,” you say, a little miserable, looking down as you pick at a loose thread in one of your sleeves. “People mistake us as a couple a lot because we’re so close, you know? But Hoseok doesn’t see me like that.”

“Mm.” Namjoon makes a little noise of understanding, giving you a considering look as you continue to unravel your sleeve. “I see.”

He eventually coaxes you out of the studio, and when he discovers that you never finished your lunch he brings you to the café around the corner that all the BigHit employees love; you pick up an iced coffee for Hoseok, just the way he likes it. You feel better after talking to Namjoon and by the time you leave the café you feel pretty much back to normal. Mostly relaxed. You don’t feel weird when Hoseok lights up when he sees you, because he always does, because you’re his best friend, and this is normal. You can be normal.

“Again? It was my turn to get you coffee,” Hoseok says with a pout and you laugh.

“Don’t worry about it.” When you hand Hoseok his drink and your fingers brush, it’s okay. It’s okay. Your friendship with Hoseok is more important than your other feelings for him, and you’ll just focus on that. You’re not sure that’s what Namjoon was trying to communicate to you, with all his listening and gentle words, but you can bottle up these emotions and keep them on lockdown until the weird feeling passes. It’ll work. You’ll be fine.

A few hours later, you realise that you’re not fine.

“Joonie!” You pounce on Namjoon when you find him alone in the break room, filling a glass at the tap. He jumps and sends water sloshing over his hands when he drops his cup, though it fortunately doesn’t break when it clatters into the sink. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“I’m not going to point out that you snuck up on me from behind without making any noise, but, that’s okay,” Namjoon says, ever tolerant. He very carefully puts the glass upright in the middle of the sink before he turns around. “What’s up?”

“I, um, am maybe panicking a little bit,” you admit in a hushed voice, even though there’s no one else in the tiny kitchen with you. “So you know Unsolved has a bigger budget now that we’re more popular? And I’ve been pushing for us to go abroad somewhere on said bigger budget? And they said we could schedule some episodes for Britain because basically every other building in Britain is haunted?”

“Yes, I am aware,” Namjoon says. “I did help you to draft the emails that you sent management.”

“You did, and I’m still eternally grateful,” you say, truthfully. “But I’ve been so caught up in the 70th episode retrospective and my much more recent, uh, Hoseok related stuff, that I totally forgot how soon it was coming up and we fly to London next week?”

Namjoon blinks at you. “You have plenty of time to pack before next week, why are you panicking?”

You muffle a scream into your hands while Namjoon looks on with concern. 

“It’s not packing I’m worried about, Joon,” you say once you’ve pulled your face out of your palms. “It’s just that when we’re abroad I’m not going to be able to get away from Hoseok and I’m worried that I’m going to erupt like a volcano and spew all my emotions over him and then I’m going to have to change my name and drop off the grid forever when he inevitably rejects me, and I was always terrible at camping. I could never get the fire to light.”

Namjoon, for all that his patience seems endless and eternal, gives you a look that borders on weary. Like he’s the father to a child who keeps eating glue even after being told that there’s no nutritional value in it and they should be using it for macaroni art anyway, and also why are they eating the glue when it’d make more sense to eat the pasta that’s right there, even if it’s uncooked? 

“First of all, you can be off the grid and still have access to ways of heating that don’t require fire,” he says. “And second of all, why are you panicking so much about London?”

“Because Hobi always gets super clingy when we fly anywhere.” You shuffle from foot to foot, feeling awkward. “And that’s when we’re still in the US. I feel like if we’re in a different country it’ll be compounded? Even if I don’t say anything out loud, I feel like my feelings will be obvious just in the way I act?”

Namjoon pauses before he grips your shoulders. His palms feel so big and warm, a steadying presence. “Would that be so terrible? Think about it, Y/n. If that was the case, then it gives Hobi the opportunity to speak out if he notices. If your friendship is entirely platonic to him, then he won’t notice, right? You’ll be okay.”

You open your mouth to take in a breath and respond, but before you can say anything Seokjin comes sauntering into the cramped break area, entirely indifferent to the weird atmosphere he’s walked into. His eyebrows raise as he spots how you and Namjoon are standing. “Ooh, are we gossiping? Is there tea to be spilled? You both look very serious, let me in on it.”

“I was just asking Namjoon if there was any advice he could give me about travelling to Britain,” you lie.

“She didn’t realise that over there lemonade is like soda.” Namjoon lets his hands drop from your shoulders as he plays along with ruse, and your face twists up in confusion.

“It’s what?” You look at him for a second before realising that Jin is staring at you, and you pretend to laugh. “Ohh, yeah, haha! Yeah, that’s crazy, haha. Um, I should get back to my desk for my notebook, I should write this down before I forget,” you say, before scuttling out of the break room.

Once you’ve disappeared, Seokjin gives Namjoon a long look. “I can’t believe you haven’t broken yet,” he says. “I still personally think we should just lock them both in a room together until one of them confesses, but apparently that’s ‘inappropriate workplace behaviour’.” The air quotes he makes are exaggerated and theatrical, as if the entire thing is a farce.

“It is and I’m not going to take that statement back,” Namjoon responds. Seokjin rolls his eyes dramatically but Namjoon ignores him. “It’s better if they come around to it by themselves. I believe in them. Besides, weren’t you the one who intervened when it looked like Hoseok was going to kiss her? I had to edit that footage, I saw how you pushed all those decorations off the table.”

Jin raises his eyebrows. “Can you imagine the chaos if he’d done that without either of them confessing properly first? They’d both pretend like it never happened. I was doing them a favour.” He casts a sideways look at Namjoon, who nods in reluctant agreement. “You know the rest of the office has a pool on how soon one of those idiots actually confesses? Do you want in on it? If either one of us gets it, we can split it 50/50.”

“That’s also grossly inappropriate,” Namjoon says, before he pauses. “Hm. How much is in the pool?”

--

Turns out you didn’t need to worry so much.

“Oh my God, look at that!” Hoseok has his face pressed up against the glass of the pod, the London Eye giving you the opportunity to look down at the metropolis of the city sprawling out below you; Hoseok’s pointing at a weirdly shaped skyscraper, panels of glass refracting off alternate shades of blue. “That’s so cool!”

“I think it’s called The Gherkin,” you say and he makes a noise of delight. Beside you, Jimin and Taehyung take a selfie with the panorama of London behind them, and you smile.

It’s true that Hoseok has been clingier than usual. The thing is, though, you’ve been clingier too; you’ve had time between filming to do some sightseeing, and neither of you have been to London before, so everything is exciting and fun and new, and you’ve been holding onto each other throughout the journey, familiarity in an unfamiliar place. You’re too busy taking in the sights and travelling from place to place, you and Hoseok and Jimin and Taehyung cramming close together each time you take the Tube somewhere, or asking people to take photos of you, and you’re having too much fun to worry about anything else.

You even get recognised a few times, which is exciting. You know Unsolved is popular but there’s something gratifying about people an ocean away knowing who you are and enjoying your work- you look on fondly as Hoseok makes your fans laugh, putting the nervous ones at ease, before shuffling together so they can take photos with you. It’s lovely, really, and you’re so glad that you and Hoseok get to experience this together. There’s no one else you’d rather be with.

You’d had a brief moment of panic after filming the first episode, Hoseok sliding into your bed as per usual, but you’d both been so tired and jetlagged that you’d basically fallen asleep the second he’d finished wrapping his arms around you, so it had been okay. You weren’t as jetlagged for the second episode, of course, but there was something soothing about having Hoseok curled around you as he slept; despite how your heart probably should have been racing, it had just gone quiet instead, slipping into a gentle beating rhythm as you’d drifted into sleep.

So on the whole it’s been all been going a lot better than you’d thought. It feels natural to let your head fall onto Hoseok’s shoulder as you both stare out of the train window, watching the fields and villages slip by as you race out of London to your final filming location, only a few days away from jetting home again.

“We should come back,” Hoseok says suddenly, his voice low enough that Jimin and Taehyung aren’t distracted from the card game they’re playing together across the aisle from you.

“For more episodes? We’ll probably have to wait till the next quarter so there’s money in the budget.” You turn away from the view outside to look up at him, chin resting on his shoulder. “We can start looking up other haunted locations when we get home, if you want.”

Hoseok smiles. “I meant we should come back just for a regular holiday,” he says. “So we don’t have to worry about rushing from place to place. I know you’re disappointed we didn’t have time to see the Royal Botanic Gardens. I know how much you love flowers.”

Oh. You keep looking up at Hoseok, the way you have such a perfect view of the round apples of his cheeks, the swoop of his nose, the sharp cut of his jaw- you think about walking hand in hand with him past bursting blooms, through delicate arching greenhouses, surrounded by colour and beauty, and you know you’d still think he was the most beautiful flower there. 

“I’d like that,” you say quietly. You’re almost drowned out by how loudly Taehyung yells snap! and the subsequent groan Jimin lets out, but you know Hoseok hears you by the way his mouth lifts into a smile. “Is there anything you wanted to see next time?”

Hoseok shrugs, but only with one shoulder, doing a little jiggle with the one you’re not resting your chin on, which makes you smile. “Nothing specific,” he says. “I’m happy as long as I get to see it with you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he says this, words settling deep in your chest, and you turn your head so that your cheek is resting on his shoulder again, shirt soft against your skin. “Love you, Hobi.”

Hoseok doesn’t respond straight away, but then he turns his head and kisses the crown of your head lightly. “Love you too.”

You arrive in Colchester in the late afternoon, and you don’t film until tomorrow, so after you’ve finished unpacking your stuff at your apparently haunted bed and breakfast, you make the group decision to just chill out for the evening and grab a couple of drinks. There’s a pub near your B&B so you and the boys pile into it, claiming a table in the corner so that you’re not in the way of the regulars, although every so often one of you has to venture up to the bar to order your drinks, trying to follow whatever sort of queuing system seems to be going on. (After the lemonade thing you had actually ended up actually asking Namjoon about Britain and the etiquette over here, and he was very insistent on following queues.)

By the time it’s your turn to grab the drinks it seems like it’s starting to get busy, so it’s taking some time for the bartender to get to you, but that’s okay- you lean against the bar and scroll through your phone, taking the opportunity to double check your schedule for tomorrow, when you feel someone tap your arm and you glance up.

“Hi,” the man says. He’s been waiting nearby, lounging against the bar, similar to you. “Are you waiting for a drink? You can go first, if you’d like.”

“Oh, no, no!” You shake your head and laugh a little. “You were here before me, that’s okay.”

When he hears your accent his eyes light up. “Oh, are you a tourist? I thought I hadn’t seen you around, because I definitely would have remembered you. How long are you over here for?”

“Uh, just a couple of nights.” You smile at him. “I’m guessing you’re a local?”

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you. “I could show you around, if you’d like.”

You startle at the sudden sensation of hands sliding around your waist, but it only takes you a second to recognise the touch and you relax against Hoseok, your back pressed against his chest as you turn away from the man to glance up at your friend. “Hi, baby,” he says. “Did you make a friend?”

“We’ve only just started talking, actually,” you say, turning back to the guy you have yet to introduce yourself properly to. “Sorry, I never caught your name?”

“That’s okay. I think my friends are calling me,” he says, and he pushes himself off the bar before brushing himself down and then walking away, giving both of you a polite little nod as he passes.

“He never even ordered his drinks.” You blink with confusion and then shrug. “Oh well, means we’ll get ours sooner. You can go sit back down, Hobi, I’ll be back soon.”

“I’m already here, I may as well stay with you,” he says, tightening his grip around your waist, and you don’t argue. He keeps hold of you as you wait and then helps you carry your drinks to the table before he pulls you onto his lap, keeping you in place with one hand splayed over your stomach while he uses the other to lift his glass to his mouth.

“Fuck chairs, right?” Jimin says. Taehyung elbows him.

“Don’t be jealous because I have the best seat in the house,” you say, before sticking your tongue out at Jimin. 

He gives you a mock affronted gasp and clutches his chest and you laugh before settling back against Hoseok, comfortable on your familiar perch atop his thighs. Hoseok might be the world’s biggest lightweight and easily gets tipsy over a single sip of alcohol- but despite this, his hold on you is firm and steady, even when he’s laughing over your shoulder, keeping you safe in his lap. He keeps stealing sips of your drink, dipping his head forwards to capture your straw whenever you’re not paying attention, but you don’t mind. What’s yours is Hoseok’s. (You’ve been taking sips of his beer, too, even if you make a face at the bitterness each time.)

By the time you shuffle back to your B&B, you’re all pleasantly drunk and keep giggling at each other about dumb and inconsequential things, although you’re careful to keep your voices down so that you don’t disturb anyone, trying to keep your footsteps light as you walk up the stairs. Jimin and Taehyung’s room is a little further up the corridor than yours and you clap your hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter when you see Taehyung trying to open the wrong door before Jimin redirects him.

You might not be too much better, but at least you remember which room is yours- you unlock the door on your first try, although it’s a little hard to step inside with how Hoseok is wrapped around your back, trying to time his steps with yours but failing a little with how tipsy he is. You keep laughing whenever he moves his feet forwards at the wrong time, a messy tangle of limbs that keep bumping together as you kick your shoes off, and you end up collapsing onto one of the beds with Hoseok still clinging onto you. He tips over backwards while your back is still pressed to his chest and you let out a little squeal at the sudden falling sensation, but he cushions your fall without complaint and still doesn’t let go, even when you accidentally elbow him in the sternum.

“We should wash up and get in our pyjamas,” you say, but you’re already wriggling into a more comfortable position, turning over so you can look at his face instead of staring up at the ceiling. Hoseok’s head has sunken into one of the fluffy hotel-style pillows, his hair a messy halo around his head, face flushed red from the alcohol. You smile down at him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says. “I don’t want to move right now.”

“You’re so drunk,” you giggle, but you rest your head on his chest and let your body relax, muscles unwinding as you let out a long, happy sigh. “We can move later, then.”

Even though you’d genuinely meant to get up and do your nightly ritual, you’re so comfortable snuggled with Hoseok in the soft bed that you drift off. For once, you fall asleep before him, eyes fluttering shut as your breaths deepen with sleep; Hoseok keeps stroking a hand down your back, brushing tenderly down the line of your spine with his long fingers in a way he’s done a thousand times. He’s still grateful for the opportunity every time, though- that he gets to see you like this, that he can touch you like this, that you’ve allowed him so deeply into your life and made a home in his, too.

“Goodnight, baby,” Hoseok says, voice barely audible in the quiet of the room. You’re so deeply asleep that you don’t stir, but he’s still careful and gentle when he touches his lips to your forehead with the lightest of pressures, tender. “Sleep well.”

When you wake up the next morning, it takes you a long time to come fully to your senses. You feel warm and heavy, surrounded by the smell of fresh sheets and Hoseok, and you don’t want to wake up just yet; you’re in that soft place between waking and sleeping, drifting in wakeful limbo as you slowly start to regain a sense of who you are and where you are. 

Your brain flickers on, starting to pull itself together as the sensation of being a singular warm mass starts to dissolve, drawing up a mental map of how your body is slotted against Hoseok’s, where your limbs start and his end. That’s your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. That’s his arm around your shoulder, keeping you close even in your sleep. That’s your hand, resting on his hip, fingers hooked in his belt. Those are your legs, tangled around his, your toes pressed to his calf, and that’s-

Your eyes fly open. You’re still wearing your clothes from the night before, thicker denim of your jeans rather than the flimsy cotton of your pyjamas, but you know exactly what’s pressed against your hip bone. You’ve slept in the same bed with Hoseok enough times that this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve woken to his morning wood, but you’ve never been this tangled up before; you normally slide out of bed and pretend you haven’t noticed anything, and by the time Hoseok wakes up it’s normally gone, or he subtly shuffles off to the bathroom to deal with it, thinking that you’re none the wiser. 

It’s natural, it’s normal, it’s nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about, but right now all you can think of is the hand you have near his hip, how close it is to his arousal, how easy it would be to slip your hand past his belt and jeans and boxers to grasp that hard, heavy heat-

You stiffen. You would never, ever do that, not ever, never take advantage of Hoseok while he was sleeping, and you know it was just a flickering thought in your still sleepy brain, probably still a little drunk, too- but you feel sick. You can’t believe you would even hypothetically consider taking advantage of him like that. If you were more than friends, then, sure, you’d wake Hoseok up with a pleasuring touch- but you’re not. You’re not. 

It takes a real feat of slow, drawn out acrobatics, but you manage to extricate yourself from Hoseok’s grasp without waking him. He only wakes up to the sound of the shower rumbling through the wall, blinking as he realises that his arms are empty, even though he should be used to this by now. By the time you walk out of the ensuite, towelling off your hair, Hoseok’s got a cup of tea waiting for you by the kettle, a few scattered milk droplets nearby from the tiny, complimentary pots.

“Morning, baby.” He’s still sleepy and there’s a crease on his cheek from where he’d turned his head into the pillow, hair ruffled, shirt wrinkled after a night of sleeping in it. “Tea?”

You feel a little better after your hot shower, scrubbing all the dirty thoughts off your skin, but when Hoseok looks so soft and homely like this it’s hard not to want to just eat him whole. 

“Ooh, how British,” you say, trying to laugh- Hoseok still seems too heavy-eyed to notice how you’re a little bit off right now, thankfully. “Yes, please.”

Unfortunately, you can’t shake your lingering weirdness and feelings of guilt, and when Hoseok wakes fully, he notices. You’re not due to film at Colchester Castle until it’s night time, shooting the episode when it’s going to be dark, so you’ve organised a day trip to the town’s zoo- Colchester Zoo is huge, full of all sorts of animals and exhibits, and Hoseok’s been excited to visit it from the moment he found out about it. 

You’d even looked up the map online so that you could plan out the optimum route and ensure you didn’t miss anything, the two of you crowding around your phone screen and pointing excitedly at the names of the different exhibits, ready and raring to go.

So Hoseok is understandably a little stunned when you apparently seem to want to drag your feet and stay with Jimin and Taehyung instead. Both the boys want to just wander around the zoo willy-nilly, separating off from you and taking it slow- but after a brief, silent discussion between the two of them, eyes flicking at each other and then back to you, they agree to come with you on your planned route.

You send up a silent prayer of thanks to anyone who’s listening. You can use the chaotic duo as cushioning and put them between you and Hoseok if you need to.

You know you’re not being especially subtle right now, but every time Hoseok moves closer to you all you can think about is how his choice of outfit today is fraying your already delicate nerves, the loose fabric of his fashionable sweatpants doing nothing to protect the outline of his dick from your wandering gaze. You don’t mean to look, but you can’t help it, even if you’re fairly certain that half the time it’s just a crease in the fabric from how he’s standing and not actually his dick, but-

“I thought it’d be harder than that,” Taehyung says. “It’s so much hairier than I thought it would be.”

You freeze, eyes shooting away from Hoseok’s crotch. Luckily no one seems to be paying you any attention and instead the boys are peering into the armadillo exhibit, watching as the animal snuffles around the ground.

“They don’t call it a large hairy armadillo for nothing,” Jimin giggles. “And it’s still a baby, the armour hasn’t grown in properly yet. It’ll look harder once it’s grown up a bit.”

All the tension rushes out of your body at once. Jesus Christ. 

Hoseok notices you slumping a little, glancing up from the map when he hears the sigh of air escape your body. “Are you okay?” He seems concerned.

“Never better,” you lie unconvincingly, giving him a weak smile. “What’s next on the list?”

Hoseok seems concerned about you for the whole day, and even a little hurt when you keep slipping out of his grasp, but the truth is that you need to put some distance between the two of you right now, for the sake of your own heart and sanity. Being desperately head over heels for Hoseok is one thing and you’d just started becoming okay with that again, but this sudden wave of physical yearning (you’re too embarrassed to think of it as horniness) is out of the left field and it’s a lot harder to cover up. You hate seeing sadness on Hoseok’s face, and normally you’d be cooing over him and asking him to tell you what’s wrong- but you know what’s wrong. It’s you. 

“Do you think something happened?” Taehyung whispers quietly to Jimin, the two of them watching as you act like you’ve been distracted by the Koi fish and walk away from Hoseok as he’s just about to reach for your hand.

“I think we’re reaching critical mass.” Jimin pretends to read from the zoo map. “We’ve nearly hit the nuclear reaction and one of them is finally going to blow. It might get messy.”

“I hope not,” Taehyung says, watching the way Hoseok stares at the back of your head as you peer into the tank of glittering fish. “I’ve never been good at cleaning up.”

It’s a little easier once the evening finally rolls around and Hoseok replaces those delicious sweatpants with marginally more professional jeans, as ripped as they are. It’s also easier to slip into the natural rhythm and rapport you have when you’re being filmed- it’s not that you’re ever any faker on camera, but it’s just an unthinking response to the sight of them, your body switching from Normal mode to Work mode. Taehyung readjusts the camera rig you have looped around your body while Jimin sorts out Hoseok, night vision lens pointed towards your faces, before letting you go.

“Ready?” You ask, glancing at your co-host. Hoseok seems less enthusiastic than usual, and you internally cringe, contrition shooting through you at how you’ve managed to dampen his mood because you’ve spent the whole day being distant.

“Ready,” Hoseok says, subdued. Your face crumples and you reach out for his hand, squeezing his fingers, trying to communicate a silent apology for something he isn’t even aware of. 

“I won’t abandon you, okay?” You keep your fingers tangled with his as you speak and grip them hard. “There’s a lot of scary stuff in this castle and I promise I won’t leave your side.”

Hoseok pauses but then squeezes your hand back, and he seems to brighten, even though he’s still a little dimmed. “I know,” he says. “I know you won’t.”

Even though he says that, he spends less time clinging onto you than normal. It’s probably not noticeable to the average onlooker, and with how most of the footage is going to be cut later, you’re certain your audience won’t notice either- but while Hoseok still screams and jumps at things, he seems to separate from you as soon as the fear has passed. He doesn’t linger or keep hold of you, even when he seems visibly shaken, eyes wide as you ascend the stairs and hear what sounds like singing even though there’s no one else here- it’s probably just wind whistling through the ancient corridors and walls of the castle, but you know that Hoseok is terrified.

“Do you want to hold my hand?” You look over your shoulder and proffer your hand but Hoseok just shakes his head.

“I’m fine.” He’s clinging onto the banister, both hands white knuckled around the metal railing. “I’m fine.”

Even though you’ve been the one who’s been avoiding touching him all day, it hurts when he says that, as hypocritical as you know you’re being. You draw your hand back to your side and don’t offer again after that, although you still pat him soothingly when he instinctively grabs you later, jumping at a clattering noise in the distance. You’re not easily spooked, but Colchester Castle definitely has some weird vibes, so if you’re feeling like this, Hoseok must feel even more scared than normal.

At one point you walk through a spider web and flinch in surprise when you feel it on your face, jumping backwards and swiping at your face. Hoseok is immediately there, eyes wide as he stares at you, immediately protective despite his fear. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Uh, it was just a spider web,” you admit, chagrined. “I overreacted, sorry.”

Hoseok nods and immediately backs off, giving you room as he turns around. You can’t help the hurt that flashes across your face as soon as he looks away.

“Critical mass,” Jimin mutters to Taehyung, who nods sagely.

The worst and weirdest moment of the night actually happens once the episode is over. Hoseok is oddly quiet as you both get ready for bed, not talking to you through the open bathroom door as he meticulously massages cream into his face like he normally does- and once he flicks the light off, plunging the room into blue tinged darkness, you’re stunned as you watch his silhouette slide into his own bed instead of into yours.

He’s never slept in his own bed after a supernatural filming. Even after your first paranormal themed episode together, when you’d still been mostly strangers. He’d been bashful and hesitant despite how obviously scared he was, asking if he could sleep in your bed, and of course you’d said yes, wanting to do anything you could to soothe him and help him feel safe. So the fact he’s not sleeping in your bed now, it’s- it’s- it’s not right. 

The only light in the room is from the tiny, faint red numbers of the digital clock, and you watch as time trickles slowly by- you stay awake for what feels like hours, laying on your side as you stare towards Hoseok’s bed. Your eyes adjust to the near darkness, room painted in low-contrast sfumato, and you can see how Hoseok is turned away from you; he’s unnaturally still and silent, and you know he hasn’t fallen asleep either, too scared and wound up to drift off.  

Outside, a vehicle rumbles past, and you can see how Hoseok stiffens at the noise of the loose fan belt, a high squeal that’s admittedly startling after the silence of the night. The shine of the headlights through the drawn curtains is muted but still more than enough to throw the room into brief, sharp relief, the tension in Hoseok’s shoulders screaming out to you- you can’t stand it anymore and you slip out from under your blankets so that you can make your way across the dark room. 

Hoseok turns when he hears you stumble over something on the floor- you think it’s a pair of socks- and makes a little noise of surprise when you throw back the corner of his duvet so you can slide in next to him.

“Y/n?” He sounds tired, but still fully awake- you were right, he’s been struggling to sleep.

“Hobi,” you say. “Why are you over here, all alone like this?”

You can barely make out the details of his features, as curved towards each other as you are; you can see the faint darkness where his hollows of his eyes are, his pretty mouth nothing more than an undefined line in the muted room. 

“I- I didn’t want to disturb you.” His voice is a quiet, unhappy murmur, and you feel your heart break at the dejection in his tone.

“Oh, Hoseok.” You cup his face in your hands, running your thumbs back and forth over his cheeks; you can feel the tension in his face, how he must be frowning. You might not be able to see everything all too well, but you’re more than familiar enough with Hoseok’s face to know where the furrow between his brows is, and press a little kiss to it. “My Hobi,” you say, and start to litter kisses over his forehead, his cheeks, his eyelids, the tip of his nose. “My baby. My darling.”

You keep touching your lips to his skin, wanting his unhappiness and fear to fade away, whispering pet names between each kiss. You tilt your lips against his chin, and Hoseok makes a little noise before his hands come up to grasp your wrists, pulling them away from where they’re still cupping his jaw. You go still, eyes widening, even if he can’t see it. “Hoseok?”

“Did I- did I do something wrong?” He sounds unsure. “You were avoiding me all day- I thought you didn’t want- I thought you wanted me to leave you alone,” he says, and you can hear guilt in his voice. “I thought I’d scared you off somehow.”

You make a little, unhappy noise. “No, baby, no,” you say. You shake your head, faces still so close from your kisses that your noses brush, but you don’t pull away- you need him to know that it’s not his fault. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t that at all.”

“Then what was it?” His grip slips away from around your wrists to slide his fingers between yours instead, holding your hands. “Tell me.”

You go still. His tone is so imploring: he wants to know what’s wrong, so he can fix it, make it better. “Hoseok.” Your voice is quiet. “You’re my best friend, Hoseok.”

“And you’re mine,” he says, squeezing your hands. Your heart feels small and feeble in your chest, a weak little thing that swells up at Hoseok’s words, but immediately shrinks again in fear. “You can tell me anything.”

“You’re my best friend, Hoseok,” you repeat. Hoseok goes silent. “You’re my best friend, and I-” You take a deep breath, trying to fill your lungs, get some oxygen flowing through your terrified heart, taking bellows to a dying ember, trying to grow it into a flame. “Honestly, I’m just selfish, Hoseok,” you say. “I’m just- being your best friend is already everything to me- but I’m so selfish-”

“Y/n.” Hoseok’s voice is a hush.

“I’m in love with you, Hoseok.” 

There. You said it. 

You can feel how Hoseok stiffens, how his fingers go utterly still in yours as you continue to speak.

“I’m in love with you, and I was just so scared you’d realise how head over heels I’ve always been for you and you’d end our friendship because everything I feel is just so much, and I just needed space today, I needed space to try and get my head straight and not scare you away by making things weird, and I’m sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I never want to hurt you, Hoseok. I’m sorry. I love you. Please don’t hate me.”

You take in a deep shuddering breath once all the words have spilled out of you, so much air. It’s out in the world, now, and you can’t take it back. 

As the seconds tick by, the initial heady rush of terror starts to fade and is instead replaced with resignation, unsurprised at how Hoseok is still frozen against you. He’s deathly silent. He’s probably mentally drafting the nicest way to gently let you down, always so kind and lovely, so wonderful, your Hoseok. 

A twinge shoots through your heart as you mentally correct yourself- he’s not yours, and he doesn’t want to be. You should have just kept your mouth shut.

“I’m sorry,” you say again. Your voice is a miserable whisper. “You’re just so easy to love.”

You try to pull your hands out of his so you can slink back to your bed and wallow in your misery, but Hoseok just tightens his grip. You tug again, a little more insistent, and this time he lets go- but before you can roll out of his bed he’s grabbing your face, long, beautiful fingers splaying over your cheeks and jaw, locking you in place as he presses his forehead against yours.

“Y/n.” His voice is uncharacteristically serious, low. “I’m going to kiss you.”

Your eyes widen. “You’re-”

You’re cut off when Hoseok presses his mouth to yours. He’s kissed you before, on your forehead, your cheeks, the bare skin of your shoulder when you wear the sundress he likes so much- but you’ve never felt his heart shaped lips against yours, never felt them soft and warm as they catch your own, and it’s so much. He keeps drawing his mouth across yours, catching your lips between his own, tongue pressing out to swipe across them, and you shiver as the kiss slowly turns slick and wet, even as it stays so tender.

His hands wrap around your waist and he rolls over you, pinning you down with his weight as you keep kissing and kissing and kissing. Your hands are in his hair while his cup your face, holding you like you’re something delicate and precious, palms warm against your skin. You don’t separate to breathe, keeping your lips locked as the kisses turn open-mouthed, Hoseok’s tongue gliding against yours, the lingering taste of your shared toothpaste mingling with his saliva- you shiver underneath him when he nips at your lower lip before soothing it with his tongue, and you crane your head forward to press further into his mouth, kisses slow and deep, and by the time you finally separate, you feel dizzy and breathless.

“Hobi,” you breathe out. “Hobi, turn the light on, I want to see you.”

Hoseok leans over you to flick on the bedside lamp, illuminating you both with its bright light- you can see how kiss swollen his gorgeous mouth is, how the sheen of your saliva on his flushed lips glows gold from the lamplight, how his hair is a mess from how you’ve been running your hands through it. He looks like your best friend, and also nothing like that at all, something familiar and unfamiliar all at once. Hoseok, forever changed by the touch of your lips.

“My baby.” He’s smiling at you, all warmth and fondness, and you squirm underneath him, embarrassed by the weight of his affection for you. “Y/n. I love you too.”

You probably shouldn’t be surprised, considering how Hoseok has just kissed you breathless, but you still feel your heart stutter in your chest. You’re staring up at him with your wide eyes as he bends forward again- he mimics what you did earlier, trailing kisses over your forehead and cheekbones and nose before he kisses one corner of your mouth, then the other, then your cupid’s bow, then just under the swell of your bottom lip. “I love you, love you, love you,” he says, punctuating each kiss with the repeated confession, as if each time he says it it’s not punching the air out of your lungs.

“Hoseok?”

“Yes?” He’s still smiling, those warm little creases under his eyes as he looks at you, every inch of him just screaming out happiness. You did that. He’s happy because of you. 

“Do you- do you remember when we first met? Years ago?” You don’t want to break the moment, but he’s never mentioned the umbrella thing and you’ve never asked before and you have a burning desire to know if he can recall-

“Do you mean the first time we actually met, or the first time you officially introduced yourself to me? I remember both,” Hoseok says. “I always knew you’d get the job. Besides, if you hadn’t, you would have had to keep the umbrella,” he adds, smile edging into something a little cheeky. “And then there would have been a pretty girl out there thinking about me every time it rained.”

Your eyes widen before you hide your face in your hands, overwhelmed at the idea that Hoseok had thought that you were pretty before he’d even known you; he coos at you and pulls your hands away to reveal your flustered expression, trapping them against the pillow so you can't hide your face again. Hoseok’s smile has faded into something a little more serious, but no less loving, and although you feel open and naked and vulnerable right now, it’s not because you think he’s judging you. 

“You never said anything, so I thought you’d forgotten,” you admit. “But from the second you smiled at me as you handed me that umbrella, I knew I was a goner. I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Hoseok.”

It’s not often that you see Hoseok look like this, his eyes so serious and deep, but his entire face is still so soft, smiling. “Me, too,” he confesses. “Me too. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to risk our friendship and I love you too much to want to give that up.”

The smile that splits your face is so wide it almost hurts. “I love you,” you say again, for the sheer novelty of hearing it out loud, seeing how Hoseok lights up- the fact you can say it without fear of his reaction, because he loves you, too. He loves you. He’s in love with you. “I love you, Hoseok, I-”

He cuts you off with a kiss, swallowing your words of love into his curved mouth, the two of you smiling and laughing as your lips come together again and again- but when he presses his tongue to your lower lip and you part them, he licks into your mouth in a way that’s almost lewd, warm and wet, and you shiver as you think about exactly how long that tongue is.

Hoseok still has his hands around your wrists from before, and you feel how his grip tightens imperceptibly when he feels you tremble underneath him. Your cheeks feel warm when he pulls back and you wonder if your blush is visible, but Hoseok seems intent on other things, dipping his head forward to catch your earlobe between his teeth for a sharp moment, nipping it before licking it with his hot, wet tongue. Your entire body shudders as he starts to kiss down the side of your jaw, and you tilt your head to give him better access, gasping when he draws his tongue over the oversensitive skin of your neck; you can feel how he smiles against your skin before kissing your throat.

“Hobi,” you breathe, and then gasp when he draws the flat of his tongue over the hollow of your neck. Each teasing touch of his tongue and lips is trickling straight to your core, your panties growing wetter and wetter with your arousal. “Hobi, oh.”

“I’m going to worship you the way you deserve to be worshipped, princess,” he murmurs, lips moving against your collarbones as he speaks. “I’ve been waiting to do this for so long." He keeps kissing you between his words, punctuating them with sweeps of his tongue over your skin, and it's so much. "Hold still for me, baby, there you go.”

Hoseok releases your wrists and you flex your fingers but stay in that position, your hands palm up as they rest either side of your head. Hoseok leans back to stare at you underneath him, laid out for his gaze; you’re in an old t-shirt and faded pyjama bottoms, face bare, hair a haphazard mess where it rests against the pillow, but he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Like you’re draped in diamonds and gold and silks. He looks at you with reverence and love, like he wants to cherish you- but there’s also something deeper in those half-lidded eyes of his, like he wants to swallow you whole.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes. You bite your lip, swallowing down a needy noise at the tone of his voice, hands clenching into fists where they rest beside your head.

“Hobi, please,” you say. “I need you.”

“You have me.” He takes one of his hands and slowly pushes the material of your shirt up, dragging his palm over your skin as he reveals the softness of your stomach. He lets the material bunch just under your breasts, ignoring how your nipples have hardened and stand out through the thin cotton of your old tee, running his fingers over your sides; you buck a little underneath him, sucking in a breath at how his touch is almost ticklish. “So sensitive.”

“You haven’t even touched me properly yet,” you say, a little snarky despite your breathlessness, but then you’re cut off when Hobi’s hands slide under the t-shirt to cup your breasts, palms and fingers cool against your overheated skin. Your pussy clenches when he flicks his thumbs over each of your hardened buds, running the pads of his fingertips over them, and you arch into his touch.

“So sensitive,” he says again, a little smile behind his words as he watches how your chest rises and falls under his hands, sucking in air when he pinches your nipples between his fingers. “Do you like that, baby?”

“Like it when you touch me,” you sigh. Hoseok smiles, flashing his teeth at you before leaning forward to kiss you again. He coaxes you to lift up a little so he can pull off your shirt, smoothing your hair when it gets ruffled by the motion, but before you can smile up at him for his tenderness, he lowers the heat of his mouth over one of your nipples and you gasp.

One of your hands flies up to grasp his hair when he circles the bud with his tongue, and you let out a low moan as he continues to lave attention on it, flattening his tongue and dragging it over the sensitive flesh. He alternates between your breasts, using his hands and fingers on whichever he’s not suckling between his lips; goosebumps erupt over your skin, and you keep biting back whines and gasps each time he does something particularly wicked with his mouth. 

You feel so, so wet, arousal pooling between your legs, and you need him to touch you there. But he's slow, taking his time until your chest is heaving and your skin is flushed and your nipples are slick from the wetness of his mouth, his fingers just the right side of rough whenever he pinches the hardened peaks, and you mewl beneath him.

You’re just about to beg Hoseok to give you more when he finally lifts his mouth from your nipple, and you go tense as he starts to trail his lips down the valley of your breasts, across the sensitive skin of your stomach, hands roaming over the rest of you; he slides down the bed until he’s resting between your legs, and all you can think about is how close his mouth is to where you want it to be. 

You’re so wet that you’ve soaked right through your panties, a touch of dampness clinging to the flimsy material of your pyjama bottoms too, and you shiver at the way Hoseok seems to drink down the sight before he hooks his fingers into the loose elastic waistband, and starts to inch them down. He’s moving torturously slowly, kissing your bare legs as he reveals your skin, touching his lips to your thighs, your calves, your ankles. 

He does the same again with your panties, even more slowly; palms sliding up the side of your legs so he can curl his fingers around the fabric of your underwear and peel it off you. You shiver when your pussy is finally revealed, your inner thighs slick with your arousal and cooling from the touch of the air- Hoseok continues to suck and kiss trails across your legs even as he stares at your naked, weeping core, his gaze heavy as he drinks down the sight.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, running his fingers over your bare skin as you tremble beneath him. “So gorgeous and perfect. Look at you, all laid out, just for me. I love you.”

“Hoseok,” you whimper. He’s still entirely clothed while you’re naked and bare, and you feel utterly debauched in comparison to him, the sheen of his saliva still shining over your body, nipples hard, your pussy lips flushed from arousal, every part of you begging for more- meanwhile he’s still got his surprisingly cute matching pyjama set on. The contrast is making your dizzy. He cups your foot in one of his hands, turning his head to press a kiss to your inner ankle, and your toes curl. “Please, baby, I need you.”

“I’ve got you, princess,” he murmurs. He drops one last kiss to your ankle before shifting towards your canting hips; his breath curls out over your core and you shudder, another flood of arousal shooting through you, your cunt clenching as Hoseok stares at it shamelessly. “Look at you,” he says, reverent. “So pretty and wet for me.”

“Hobi,” you whine. You bite back a gasp as he hooks your fingers behind your knees and forces your legs apart, spreading you open, entirely helpless underneath his hungry gaze. You watch in wonder as he lets his tongue curl out of his mouth, looking sinfully dirty as he does- but then you let out a whine when he turns his head away from your pussy and licks the inner seam of your thigh instead. Your hips jump at the sensation, your skin so sensitive from the attention that he’s lavishing on you, but it’s not where you want his mouth to be, even if the lingering kisses he’s giving to your inner thighs feel good. “Hoseok, please.”

He hums indulgently, and you’re about to start begging again when he purses his lips and blows out a puff of air over your flushed lower lips; the sudden chill against your damp folds has you tensing, and before you can gather your wits Hoseok drags his hot, wet tongue up the seam of your pussy to gather the wetness there. You cry out from the sudden explosion of sensation when he repeats the motion but presses past your lower lips to tongue at your slit, lapping up the juices at your entrance before circling your clit with the tip of his tongue, your spine arching as your hips buck. “Oh, God, Hoseok, yes, right there.”

He slides one of his arms over your stomach, trapping you, holding you down as you try to cant your hips towards his mouth. You sob with pleasure as he continues to drink down your juices, leisurely licking at the most sensitive parts of you, in no rush at all. “Hobi, please,” you beg. “Please, I need more.”

Hoseok turns his head to lightly bite your inner thigh, your leg twitching at the sensation, surprised at how pleasurable it is. “Ssh,” he murmurs. “I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time. I want to savour it,” he says, and you let out a whine when he dips his head back down and starts to lap at your clit again, his dark eyes watching each of your reactions, the way you writhe and curl your toes each time he dips back down to your entrance, pressing his tongue inside you. “You taste so good, baby. Your pretty little cunt is so perfect.”

You whine at the praise, writhing when each swipe of his tongue over you is fanning the flames of your arousal higher and higher, and you can feel how the coil inside you is tightening, so close to reaching your peak. Hoseok’s still eating you out, nice and slow, and you’ve never felt an orgasm creep up on you like this- you moan as Hoseok finally buries his face in your pussy, tongue sliding from your slit, to your clit, over and over. 

It’s so, so good, and then you watch as he slides one of his long fingers inside you and curls it inside you just right- “I’m gonna cum, Hoseok, I’m- oh!”

The intensity of your orgasm hits you like a freight train, exploding from deep inside you. Your back arches off the bed and your toes curl as you cum and cum and cum, Hoseok keeping his mouth on you the whole time, your entire body shuddering as waves of pleasure wash over you, wetness flooding out of your cunt that he drinks down eagerly. 

The build up was slow, and the come down is slow, too, aftershocks rippling through your body for longer than any orgasm you’ve had before, and Hoseok keeps licking and sucking you through it all until you’re almost crying out from the overstimulation and you have to push his head away. The aftershocks are still rippling through your body as Hoseok rises, your pussy clenching each time, and you feel boneless and strung out- but you know Hoseok isn’t done with you yet.

“So pretty when you cum for me,” he says. You reach out for him and he comes so easily, fitting himself between your arms. His lips and chin shine with evidence of your arousal and when you pull him in for a kiss you can taste yourself across his tongue, a noise bubbling up at the back of your throat when you feel how slick his lips are against yours.

“Wanna make you cum too,” you say, your voice weak after the strength of that orgasm; you take in a deep breath, willing the oxygen to bring some energy back into your body. “Baby. Hoseok.”

“Mm.” He kisses you again. “You will, baby, don’t worry, you’re always so good for me.”

Your fingers fumble when you try to unbutton his shirt, but when Hoseok laughs, it’s not patronising at all; he just sounds fond. He takes over, deft fingers making quick work of the shirt before he throws it aside, revealing the slim line of his body to you. He’s beautiful and lean, nipples dark, skin golden, with a dark trail of hair that dips down into his pyjama bottoms- your eyes zero in on the way Hoseok’s loose pyjamas do nothing to hide his erection, the hard strain of his cock against the fabric, and you let out a little sigh of happiness that you’re finally getting to see what you’ve been desperately staring at all day. When you reach out for him your fingers barely brush his skin, and you make a greedy little noise, hungry for more.

“Need you,” you say. You want Hobi inside you, splitting you open, as close to each other as you can physically be. “Clothes off now.”

Hobi lets out a loud laugh, and you melt at the utter joy in the sound, how his face is so open and bright. 

“God, I love you,” he says, before unceremoniously shedding the offending garments. He wiggles his hips in an entirely unsexy manner, and you end up laughing too when he gets one of his legs caught and has to kick the pyjama bottoms off in an entirely graceless way. You’re still letting out quiet giggles even as Hoseok is finally bare in front of you, beautiful and unabashed in his nakedness, and you love him. 

You feel like liquid sunlight, overflowing with happiness; you’ve never laughed like this with anyone before, both naked yet still somehow amused, flipping from all-consuming arousal one second to laughter the next, but it just feels natural. Because it’s Hoseok, and everything feels so easy with him.

“I love you too,” you say, and then, when your eyes drop to his cock, you say: “God, you’re beautiful.”

His cock is gorgeous, curving up towards the ceiling, a drop of precum beaded at the tip; it’s not completely straight, hanging just a little to the left, but it’s Hoseok, so it’s perfect. He wraps his fingers around your hips and you let out a little squeal when he tugs you down the bed towards him so that your legs are dangling off the side and your hips are practically flush; his cock bobs when he moves and you shiver with how close it is to your heated core. Just like the rest of him, it’s long and lean and gorgeous, and you can’t wait to have it inside you. Although-

“Don’t I get to taste you?” You can’t help but say this with a pout, and Hoseok’s face splits into a wide smile.

“Next time, baby,” he promises. “Tonight is for you.”

Next time. The realisation that tonight is just one of many, just the start of an entirely new chapter in your life with Hoseok- that you’ll still be friends, best friends, but also more- settles inside you, warm and soft and safe. Your face creases into a smile and you slide your hands up Hoseok’s body, over his stomach and chest, touching all the skin you can, relishing in the fact that you’ll grow familiar with it all in a way that you never could have dreamed of. 

“You’re always so good to me,” you say.

“You deserve it, princess,” he replies. You tilt your hips towards him and you see how his eyes darken at the motion, tenderness swallowed by lust, and your body lights up like a livewire in preparation, ready to feel him push inside you. You’re already loose and wet from your first orgasm, but you don’t protest when Hoseok starts to run his fingers over the seam of your thigh; he presses straight in with two fingers, your body opening up for him so easily, and you gasp at how deep they move inside you, so long and pretty. 

“There, Hobi, right there.” He’s clearly not trying to bring you to orgasm again but he still listens to your directions, keeping the motions of his hands the same, fingers rubbing over your inner walls so perfectly. 

You can hear it, noises slick and dirty before he pulls them out, and you watch as he uses your arousal to slick up his cock, rubbing your juices over his hard length. It’s lewd, how he does it, pumping himself as he spreads it over his cock, wet noises vulgar and obscene, shooting straight to your core; you don’t think you’ve ever seen or heard anything so arousing in your life, the way Hoseok has his lip caught between his teeth as he looks at you, cock stiff between his legs as he runs his fingers over it. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper. “Hoseok, fuck.”

You arch your back when he grips his cock in one hand, guiding himself towards you- but rather than pressing into your entrance he runs his throbbing length back and forth through your lips, gathering even more of the wetness there, the slide so easy and smooth. It’s the most delicious, glancing pressure against your clit, not enough to satisfy, but enough to have you gasping again, the way you can feel the silken heat of his cock against you. 

“Hoseok, please.” You don’t attempt to hide the desperation in your voice. “I need you.”

Hoseok lets out a guttural groan at your words; he drinks in how blown your pupils are, the flush from your orgasm still visible over your chest, the way your fingers are clutching the bedsheets, white cotton tangled in your grasp. “Anything you want, baby,” he says, and finally, finally, he grasps his length and tilts it to your entrance. He rests there for a second, the tip barely touching you, and you see how he steels himself as he grasps your hips, before he starts to sink into you.

“Oh!” He fills you so well, inch by torturous inch, your body opening up for him so easily it’s like his cock was made to fill you; once he bottoms out you can feel how snug he is inside you, cockhead pressed against your cervix, and you shiver. “Oh, yes, Hoseok, so good.”

He stays still for one long, drawn out moment, before his hands slip off your waist and he reaches for yours. You entwine your fingers with his, staring up at him as he leans forward and kisses you; the motion has his cock shifting inside you and you whine a little against his lips, before biting off a gasp when he rocks his hips forwards. The motion is fluid and rolling, and Hoseok sets an unhurried pace, languidly filling you up with his cock, over and over and over.

The pleasure that’s growing in you is slow and relaxed. You’re not chasing your orgasms- you’re revelling in the closeness, the connection, the slip of skin against skin, how Hoseok is filling you up, how you’re drawing him in. You end up staring into each other’s eyes, Hoseok’s forehead pressed to yours so there’s nothing in your vision but him; you only break eye contact when one particularly deep roll of his hips sends a shudder through you, your eyes squeezing shut as you gasp.

“Feel so good, baby,” Hoseok murmurs. “So good for me.”

You make a noise of confusion when he lets go of your fingers and leans back, straightening up, but then he hooks his hands under your knees and you lift your hips; you drape your legs over his shoulders, arched towards him, lower body lifting off the mattress. Hoseok drives forward and you immediately gasp at how he hits your sweet spot straight on, the change of angle forcing the head of his cock to brush the top of your inner walls, each drag of the blunt head sending shocks of pleasure shooting through you.

“Wanna feel you cum around my cock, princess,” Hoseok says, and you shudder. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, Hobi, yes- faster- oh-”

Hoseok starts to ramp up the pace, snapping his hips into yours with the sound of slapping skin, and you can feel how you’re starting to tighten around him, pussy clenching with each thrust of his hot cock inside you. “Gonna cum for you, Hobi,” you say. “So close, fuck.”

He takes one of his hands off your waist and slides three fingers over your clit, and you cry out with pleasure as he starts to rub at your bundle of nerves in tight circles; the added stimulation is just what you need, and you tumble over the edge into your second orgasm of the night. Hoseok moans when he feels how your cunt clenches around him, rippling tightness around his cock, and your eyes fall shut as your mouth falls open and you rock your hips into the sensation, grinding against Hoseok to prolong the pleasure, and he continues to snap his hips forward.

You go lax, almost limp, but Hoseok is still hard inside you, so you try your best to keep your back arched towards him; the fluid roll of his thrusts is starting to fall out of rhythm as he approaches his own peak, and although your pussy is crying out at the oversensitivity, you try to match his pace, canting your hips towards Hoseok each time he drives forward.

“Want your cum all over me, Hobi,” you say. “Want you to cum on my tits-”

Hoseok curses, composure slipping entirely for the first time all night, and you feel how he fumbles his rhythm before he catches himself. His thrusts are fast and choppy before he pulls out and drops your hips to the mattress; you whine at the sudden emptiness, but then he’s shuffling his knees onto the bed and he has his hand wrapped around his slick length, jerking himself hard and fast as you arch your back and push your chest towards him.

“So fucking beautiful,” he says through gritted teeth. “So pretty, baby- fuck!”

He gasps in air before he lets out one long, drawn out moan, and then there’s hot cum splattering across your breasts, whiteness painting itself across your skin. Hoseok continues to pump himself, cock letting out more ropes of cum, and you can’t help but let out a noise of satisfaction at the sight, lifting your hands to run over his hip bones and waist and flexing thighs, watching the way Hoseok’s face draws together as he rides out his own orgasm, until his hand falls away from his cock and he’s slumping forwards over you, panting.

You hum, reaching for him and pulling him down so you can brush your lips against his. “You’re so hot when you cum,” you say. “I could watch you cum all day.”

Hoseok lets out a breathless laugh before he kisses you again, properly this time- you’re content to keep kissing regardless of the cum that’s starting to cool on your chest, but Hoseok is insistent on being a gentleman and excuses himself to the bathroom to get a towel so he can clean you up. When he drags the damp towel over your skin, he’s so soft and gentle, although you still shiver a little when the rough fabric drags over your nipples; he bends down and kisses you in apology. 

You feel warm and small and soft, watching as Hoseok walks around the bed, still naked; the paltry lamp light is still more than enough for you to see every line of his beauty, the way each of his muscles shifts under his skin as he walks and moves, bending over to gather some of the discarded clothes from the floor. You sit up and lift your arms so he can help you back into your thin t-shirt, cupping his face in your hands and kissing him with a firm press of your lips, before he shimmies back into his boxers, though you personally don’t think he needs them.

When you finally settle down for the night you both curled up on your bed- because Hoseok’s is rumpled and sweaty from your previous exertions- and nestle up gratefully under the sheets, warm from the weight of the duvet and Hoseok spooning you from behind.

“I love you,” he murmurs, nosing at the side of your neck.

“I love you too,” you reply, and then end up giggling a little, stomach jumping under Hoseok’s hand. “I need to buy Namjoon a thank you slash apology gift when we get home, you know,” you say thoughtfully. “He had to put up with me having a meltdown about you, and it turns out he was right.”

Hoseok brushes his nose over your ear. “Jin kept making pretty blasé comments to me about us,” he tells you. “But he does that about most things, so.”

You hum lightly before pressing back further against Hoseok, who tightens his hold around you in response. “I guess they knew before we did,” you say. “We’ve been acting like a couple for a long time, to be fair.” Thinking back on it, it was pretty obvious, but hindsight is 20/20, as they say. 

The next morning, as always, you wake before Hoseok- and this time when you feel the hardness pressed into your ass, you don’t panic. You do what you always do and slide carefully out of Hoseok’s arms, but unlike every other morning, he doesn’t wake up to an empty bed. Instead, he wakes up with a small gasp to the sight of you with your mouth around his cock, your eyes wide and innocent as you stare up at him; you work him up while he’s still half-asleep and slow, swallowing down his cock until he cums down your throat. You litter kisses over his hips and thighs, smiling into his skin as he comes down from his peak, his pupils blown.

“Morning, Hobi,” you say, kissing the divot below his hip bones. “I love you.”

“Come here,” he says, voice still a rasp from his sleep, eyes hungry as he reaches for you.

When the two of you eventually stumble downstairs for breakfast, Jimin and Taehyung are already there; you’re much later than normal but neither of the boys seems to notice anything out of the ordinary, Taehyung asking Hoseok to pass the pepper mill as soon as you’ve sat down.

Taehyung is enthusiastically grinding pepper over his bacon and eggs when Jimin pipes up. “You know, the ghosts in this B&B apparently like to watch the guests while they try to sleep and make noises to keep them up,” he says conversationally. “You didn’t happen to notice anything out of the ordinary in your room, did you? Taehyung and I could have sworn that we heard moaning or something at some point, but I think it must have been a trick of our minds.”

You and Hoseok exchange a quick glance. “Uh, nope, can’t say that we did,” you say, and Hoseok nods emphatically in agreement.

Jimin pauses. He squints at you, before turning to Taehyung and pulling the pepper mill out of his hands to get his attention. “I told you it was going to happen soon,” Jimin says. “They finally hit critical mass and confessed. I knew that moaning wasn’t from ghosts.”

“And there’s no mess to clean up, even if we didn’t win the betting pool.” Taehyung sounds pleased. “Can you pass the salt now please?”

You watch incredulously as both boys continue their business as usual, Taehyung swapping the pepper mill for the salt grinder while Jimin opens a tiny jar of raspberry jam for his toast. 

You turn to Hoseok, scandalised at the idea that a) your friends/co-workers heard you last night and b) there’s apparently some sort of office bet about your relationship with Hoseok, only to find that the man in question has a look of alarm on his face.

“Do you think the ghosts were watching us last night?” He has an expression that’s a mix of affronted and also scared. “That’s dirty.”

“No, baby, I don’t think we had ghostly voyeurs in our room,” you say, stroking Hoseok’s hand with reassuring fingers, before you frown and look back at the other two boys. “I hate our friends. You have a betting pool?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty big,” Taehyung says. “I’m not sure who’s won the money, I’d have to check the spreadsheet when we get back home.”

“I bet Jin was the one who came up with it, wasn’t he?” Taehyung and Jimin exchange a look, but neither of them say anything, which is more than enough to answer your question. “I’m going to shove a wedge of parmesan down his throat when we get home and see how he likes it.”

“I love you,” Hoseok says.

“I love you too,” you reply, turning your head to accept the kiss he gives you.

“You’re so cute,” Jimin says.

“Why parmesan?” Taehyung asks, before twisting the salt grinder with enough gusto that he pulls the bottom off and salt goes cascading over his breakfast. “Oh, oops. Do you think they’ll let me have more eggs?”

--

Your thank you/apology gift to Namjoon is a tin of Scottish shortbread that you find in a cute tourist shop, although when you find out he’s actually the proud winner of 50% of the betting pool, you take the shortbread back for yourself and Hoseok instead.

When Yoongi arrives at his desk to the sight of you sitting in Hoseok’s lap and feeding him between kisses, he just rolls his eyes, mutters ‘finally’, and makes no further comments. You laugh into Hoseok’s mouth and allow Jungkook to steal a piece of shortbread on his way past, too busy kissing your boyfriend to care.

“You can have the last bit of shortbread,” you say, and Hoseok grins up at you.

“You’re just saying that because I ate you out this morning,” he says, and you giggle.

“I can’t believe you just made me listen to that with my own two ears. I’m in hell.” Yoongi sounds so tired. “I think I preferred it when the two of you were dancing around each other. Go back to doing that.”

“No can do, Yoongles,” you sing-song. “I love Hoseok and I’m going to make sure everyone knows it.”

“I love you too,” Hoseok says, looking up at you with bright eyes, and you giggle before dipping down to kiss him again.

“Everyone else knew before you did,” Yoongi mutters, but neither of you pay him any mind.

#jhope x reader #hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #jhope smut #bts x reader #jhope fluff #hoseok fluff #bts #jhope #jung hoseok #joy.masterlist

[thirstyforcharacters]

*Damaging the Petals (Obi-Wan Kenobi x Senator! Reader

Summary: You and Obi-Wan have a rare night to yourselves in the midst of the Clone Wars. And of course, you only have one thing on your mind.

Notes: It’s finally ready! It feels like it's been forever since I've written anything. That's mostly because a new semester of college has begun (I'm in week 3 atm and it feels like it's week 300000), and I have much less time to write. It took me 3 weeks to write this because I literally have almost no free time, and I thought I'd only get a chance to finish this weekend, but I actually had a bit of time today, so here comes the Obi-Wan smut! Hope you enjoy! (no she/her pronouns, no y/n)

Warnings: smut! 18+ only! inappropriate use of the Force, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, y’all), a smidgeon of choking

WC: 2.2 k

“Can I ask you something?”

You and Obi-Wan were lying in your plush canopy bed together, enjoying one of the very few evenings you were able to snag alone in the midst of the Clone Wars. Being a Jedi and a senator in a secret relationship was hard enough in normal circumstances, but during an intergalactic war, it was practically impossible. But somehow, you were able to make it work. It was the small moments like these, in between Obi-Wan risking his life for the greater good, and you writing up anti-war bills that would inevitably be rejected by the chancellor (which always confused you), that made the hell you were going through worth it.

You were mindlessly watching a random holodrama, your head in his lap and his fingers running through your hair, which normally would put you right to sleep. Right now, though, you were keyed up. One unfortunate consequence of not being able to see each other was the fact that your sex life was dwindling. The few intimate moments you had together were fantastic (you both made sure of that), but they were so infrequent that you found yourself left on edge more often than not. And Padme putting this particular idea in your head at lunch earlier that day wasn’t helping anything. Now, the cadence of his fingers gently tugging at your hair made your heart pump faster.

“Anything, flower.”

Your heart swelled for a second, the sweet nickname he reserved only for you briefly making you forget the impure thoughts that swirled around your head. But they soon returned, and you knew that if you didn’t ask now, the tenderness of his actions would soon make you forget your purpose. You looked up at him from your place in his lap, and his eyes were already on you, giving you his full attention.

“So, Padme told me something that her and Anakin do in the bedroom, and I was wondering if maybe we could try it? Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course,” you asked.

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh? And what would that be?”

“Well, they occasionally use the Force to… enhance their activities. I know that you stick to the code a little more than Anakin does, so if that’s too much of an inappropriate use of the Force for you, I get it. If it’s not though, I’d really like to try it,” you explained.

“That’s an interesting topic for senators to speak about at a business lunch,” he quipped, his eyes sparking with mischief.

You rolled your eyes, “Did you really expect us to talk about Senator Organa’s clone citizenship bill the entire time? No matter how good of an idea I think it is, it is a bit boring to talk politics for that long, even for a senator.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Of course not. As for your question, I would be willing to give it a try. But, you have to promise that you’ll tell me if it’s too much, or if I’m hurting you in any way. The Force is a powerful tool, and I do not wish to damage your petals with it, my flower.”

You smiled at his tender words, “You have my word, Obi-Wan.”

He returned your smile, then rearranged your bodies so you were lying beneath him. It started as gentle as always; Obi-Wan always preferred to be delicate with you. The soft, yet passionate kisses that your lover pressed to your lips made your head spin. He began removing your clothes then, peeling off each layer as if he was peeling the petals off of a rose. The only time his lips left yours was when he pulled your blouse over your head; otherwise, it was like he couldn’t get enough of you. And you couldn’t get enough of him, either.

Once you were fully nude, your lover started to trail kisses down your body. He gently nipped at your neck, though not enough to leave marks. You both knew that doing so would be detrimental to the secrecy of your relationship, but that didn’t stop him from leaving marks in other places. There were many mornings after your escapades where your inner thighs and breasts were covered in small bruises and marks. Running your fingers up and down those spots always made you blush, remembering the passionate nights before. Even though he did blemish your skin with his teeth, in most other ways in the bedroom, he was gentle and loving.

A soft nip to one of your breasts brought you out of your thoughts, and you gasped out in surprised and pleasure as Obi-Wan soothed the mark that he left with his tongue. His lips wrapped around your nipple and sucked harshly, making you arch into his mouth. His other hand moved to toy with your other nipple, making soft whimpers of pleasure fall from your lips. You could feel him smirking against you as he continued his ministrations, reveling in the way he could make you so needy for him with just a few tweaks to your breasts.

Eventually, though, he was getting bored with this game, and his hands moved down to your legs, each one gripping your thighs and pulling them open, exposing your dripping cunt to him. Even though he was being on the gentle side, you could still tell that you would probably have marks on your thighs tomorrow. Obi-Wan placed his head between your thighs and looked up at you. The fire in his eyes made you even wetter for him; you knew that you were an absolute goner. Without so much as a warning, he licked a stripe up your pussy.

You cried out in surprise and wound your fingers into his hair. But almost as soon as you had, you felt a hand grip your wrists and pull them until they were above your head. It couldn’t have been Obi-Wan’s hands because they were holding you open, so there was only one thing it could be. Your realization, combined with the soft, teasing licks Obi-Wan was pressing to your pussy, made a wave of heat rush through your body.

Obi-Wan looked up at you and almost moaned out himself. Your body stretched out before him, being held down by invisible hands, was probably the most arousing thing he had ever seen.

“Does that feel okay, flower? Not too much?” he asked softly, not wanting to overwhelm you.

You couldn’t help but smile gently at his sweetness, “It’s perfect, Obi.”

And it was. The hands holding you down were slightly warm to the touch, and they were holding you down just enough to keep you still, not enough to hurt you. It was exactly like how you had imagined it.

He smiled back, “Good. Just wanted to be sure.”

And he dove back in with renowned fervor. He ate you out like he was a starved man, eating his first meal in weeks. He enjoyed giving you oral almost as much as you did, so he was always willing to give you what you needed, just as you were for him. The symbiotic nature of your sexual relationship is why it worked so well, and it was why the few times you would get alone were always wonderful. There was never taking without giving; you both were generous lovers, responsive to each other’s needs.

His lips worked dutifully, licking up every bit of wetness dripping from your core, and all you could do was lie back and take it. Obi-Wan’s own hands on your thighs, combined with the Force holding down your arms, successfully kept you completely still, defenceless against whatever Obi-Wan had planned for you. Soon, you were close, your wetness dribbling down his chin. His lips suctioned to your clit and two of his fingers pressed into your entrance, making you come harder than you thought you had before, and that was just from his lips. He moaned against you while he worked you through your orgasm, taking everything you gave him and still pumping his fingers to help you ride it out.

When you came down, Obi-Wan removed himself from between your thighs and moved up to your lips, kissing you softly. You reciprocated as best you could, but you were already exhausted. And you hadn’t even gotten to the best part yet.

“Are you doing okay, flower? Not too much?” Obi-Wan asked.

You nodded in agreement, “Yes. ‘M fine. Need more.”

He quirked up a brow, “More? Well, you know I can’t say no to you.”

You tried to use your legs to pull his hips back down to yours, but found that your ankles were now being held down by the same force holding your wrists. You didn’t quite know how you didn’t notice that before, but you weren’t complaining. Actually, you loved it.

He noticed you pulling against your invisible bonds and smirked a bit, “Eager?”

“Need you, Obi. Please.”

Luckily for you, Obi-Wan wasn’t really in a teasing mood. Neither of you had been lately, since your sexual escapades have been few and far between. That might also be why he still felt so big, even though you had taken him so many times before. Every time he was inside of you, it took your breath away. This time was no exception. You couldn’t hold back the desperate sound that tore from your throat when he pushed in, almost as much as you imagined he couldn’t keep the low groan that fell from his lips contained.

“Please, Obi,” you begged, “need you to move. I’m ready.”

Of course, he complied with your request. Though at first his rhythm was slow and steady to get you used to the feeling, before long his hips were snapping into yours at a rapid pace. Whenever you tried to arch your back to meet his thrusts, the Force would push you back down. Your body was completely at Obi-Wan’s mercy. You couldn’t even bring yourself to speak; the ecstasy you were feeling proving to be overwhelming in the best possible way. The only vocalizations of your pleasure that you could give were needy whines, and Obi-Wan was drinking it in. Every soft sound that fell from your lips served to spur him on further.

“You always feel so good, my flower. Still so tight for me, even after all of this time. Every time we’re together feels better than the last.”

Somehow, even his dirty talk had an air of elegance about it. It certainly didn’t lose any effect, his words made your moans grow louder as you grew closer and closer to your peak. His hands were planted firmly on the bed to steady himself as he thrusted into you, which is why you squeaked in surprise when you felt a phantom force start to rub circles on your clit. The surprise quickly became pleasure, and you gasped out his name in broken syllables as you felt another hand slowly close around your throat. This particular kink of yours wasn’t utilized too often, as it wasn’t exactly the most delicate of treatment. But the feeling of the phantom limb squeezing your neck was what brought you to the edge.

White hot pleasure flowed through your body, and you knew that you had never felt like this before. You were lost in the feeling; it was so intense that you didn’t even register when Obi-Wan came to his own high. You only vaguely heard him murmuring sweet nothings into your ear, and barely even noticed him running a cloth between your thighs to clean you off.

When you had fully regained your awareness, Obi-Wan was cradling you to his chest, running his fingers through your hair and whispering, “You were so wonderful, flower.”

“Thank you,” you replied quietly, signaling to him that you were finally back.

He tilted your chin up so you were looking at his face, a serious expression crossing it.

“That wasn’t too much for you, was it?”

You shook your head, “It was exactly how I thought it would be. Thank you for doing this for me.”

His serious expression gave way to a loving gaze. It truthfully was something you never thought you’d see from him when you befriended him all of those years ago, and now that you had it, it was something you would always treasure.

“I can’t say that I hadn’t thought about it, either. I was just hoping you would bring it up first.”

You giggled, “I don’t think those thoughts have any place in the Jedi Code.”

He shook his head, a fond smile etched across his features, “No, not exactly. I don’t think the council would be very happy with me right now.”

“Probably not. Improper use of the Force and all,” you joked.

His fingers moved from your hair to your face, gently tracing your jawline, “I love you.”

“And I love you,” you reciprocated.

Sure, what you had was complicated. It went against all rules, and everything that your boyfriend was supposed to stand for. But in this moment, none of that mattered. You had each other, and you would navigate the rough waters of the galaxy together, no matter what.

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan #obi-wan smut #obi-wan kenobi smut #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi-wan fluff #obi-wan kenobi fluff #star wars #Prequel Trilogy #obi-wan kenobi fanfic #obi-wan fanfic #x reader #x reader smut #x reader fanfiction #x reader fluff

[agustdef]

Tiptoeing: Around You | m.

✰ Pairing: Christian Yu/Reader 

› Genres: Smut, Fluff, Mildest of Angst

✰ Rating: 18+ 

› Warnings: Language

✰ Status: Oneshot 

› In Collaboration: With @shadowsremedy​ who altered my plans a little, but I don’t mind it. Here is his fic, they’re both in the same universe: Tiptoeing: Around Love.

✰ Beta Read: @suhdays​ and @ppersonna​

›  Banner: @shadowsremedy​

✰ Summary: YN has pined after Christian for a while, but after one more kick in the butt by her best friend and an evening in the same room she finally acts on those feelings.

›  A/N: This fic was written for the sweet and mildly chaotic @dee-ehn​ for her birthday. You deserve the world, but since I cannot give you that we’re going to have to settle for some fictional content starring the ever handsome and rude Christian Yu. I hope you enjoy it love and I hope your day was great!

“Pft, you’re no better than me,” YN whispered into her phone.

There was a loud chuckle on the other side and then it stopped abruptly.

“Yeah, but at least I have a girlfriend. You’re out here acting like a lovesick puppy for a guy who is clearly into you. I don’t know how much sadder this can get at this point. It’s been months, YN,” Yoongi said.

Naturally, she rolled his eyes at his words. The fact that all of that was true mattered not. Or at least most of it was true, she wasn’t quite sure if Christian was into her. Everyone said he was and there were some signs, like flirting and being touchy but he was like that with a few of his close friends. That alone couldn’t be the indicator for his feelings. If they were feelings at all. For all she knew she and everyone else were seeing the signs of lust and not romantic feelings that led to a monogamous relationship.

At least that’s what the voice in her head told her when she got up the courage to think he actually liked her and planned to act on it. The pesky ass voice couldn’t let her have nice things.

Despite her clear acknowledgement of the factualness of what he said she couldn’t let him have the last word. It just wasn’t a true testament to their friendship if she didn’t try to gain the upper hand.

“Well, at least I’m not using fuckboy antics to get out of telling the person I’m dating I love them. You can’t use that psycho bitch, who tried to kill me might I add, as an excuse for why you don’t say it forever, Yoon. Especially since you know Jamie isn’t like that. But you gotta take the plunge and talk to her before too much time has passed and she won’t want to listen anymore.”

There was a brief silence before a dramatic sigh left his lips. YN could imagine the look on his face as he did it too. A mix of sadness, resignation, and annoyance at the fact that she was right. They wouldn’t be such close friends if they both didn’t hate being proven wrong while also understanding the other enough to know when it was the right moment to push it.

“Okay,” he whispered.

“What was that?”

“Okay! You’re right. But you need to stop tiptoeing around the subject and just tell him already. He likes you, let him know you feel the same way,” he said.

That got YN to sigh with about as much feeling as Yoongi had. Her body felt tired as she thought of having to speak those words, but she realized she really needed to get it over with. Even if she threw up in the process, it had to happen.

“Okay,” she mumbled.

“Hm? What was that?” he mocked her.

“Okay, damn. I’ll do it. So annoying.”

Again, he laughed and it made her happy to hear him not so down like he’d been for days. Of course, the laughter could only help so much, but it was better than nothing.

Biting her lower lip her head turned so she looked at the studio door where the man who she was losing it over was. He waited for her to bring in snacks and she’d stopped part way to call Yoongi about something unrelated to the conversation they had. One that she was so lost in that she didn’t realize twenty minutes more than needed had gone by.

“Shit, I have to go. I should have been back already. I’ll call you later. Love you. Bye.” she said.

Yoongi laughed. “Love you too.”

With that she hung up the call and took a deep breath before walking towards the studio door. Her hand grasped the knob for a few seconds as she took a deep breath and thought over Yoongi’s words. Maybe the all-nighter they planned was the right place or maybe it was the worst possible place for her to do that since she’d still have work to do if he reacted negatively.

When she finally opened the door and stepped in she’d decided to just see what happened. There would be no forcing herself to say anything about it or actively stopping herself. For once she’d go with the flow, with a bit of hope that she’d randomly get the urge to blurt it out like she sometimes did.

Upon her entry Christian’s head whipped up to look at her. He stared her down as she kicked off her shoes and made her way to her seat. The expression on his face didn’t give way to his thoughts, but she assumed he was confused as to why it took her so long to get back.

“You get lost?” he asked, taking the bag from her.

“Nope. Just had a phone call.”

Christian paused for a second, his brow raised in question.

“Yoongi?”

YN didn’t stop what she was doing for many people, especially when it came to work related things needing to be done. But Yoongi was her oldest friend and she’d hop on a plane without a moment's notice if he needed her. That meant that usually people could guess who she’d been talking to easily.

“Yeah. He wanted to whine some,” she said.

Her attention moved to the computer in front of her, which still held the work she’d left off on. Christian had messed with something a little, but for the most part had seemed to be focused on what went on upon his own screen. Something about what he was doing reminded her of a thing she’d forgotten with the clip was editing and despite the hunger that plagued her she went straight into work. Of course, she felt Christian’s eyes on her the whole time and heard him chewing away at the snacks in the bag but her mind hyper focused so none of that matter.

About fifteen minutes passed before her hands stopped moving and Christian used that to pull her chair for the desk. Her immediate reaction was to tell him off, but he shoved half of a sandwich towards her mouth and she found herself biting it without a thought. That brought a smug expression to his face, but she merely rolled her eyes and snatched the sandwich.

There was some small protest from him, but it stopped as she took another bite of the sandwich. YN was so hungry that she hadn’t really chewed anything or tasted it for that matter. She’d had little to eat throughout the day because they’d needed some last-minute shots and that left her running here and there. Anything consumed was burned off within an hour or two. Which is why Christian had offered they go get dinner first, but she knew a heavy meal would make her focus on editing harder. Food made her sleepy most of the time.

“Slow down,” Christian said, his Australian accent thickening with the worry in his tone.

But his warning was too late because she’d shoved the last piece into her mouth and swallowed it. Her hand reached for the other in his hand, but he gently pushed it away and handed her an opened water instead. She glared at him but drank down the water; though with the way he stared at her she stopped herself from downing half of it in a few seconds. Sips were slow and small until she felt her throat less dry.

“Now can I have the other half?” she asked, her voice sickly sweet and a pout on her lips.

For a moment Christian just stared his eyes focused on something on her face. At first, she wondered if she’d gotten anything on it while eating, but then she watched him bite his lower lip and his eyes flicker up to her’s and then down again. She thought that he had to be looking at her lips and her heart did a thing, though her mind wasn’t sure if it was him wanting to kiss her or something being on them. In a moment of uncertainty, she wiped at the lip and came up with nothing, but that seemed to be enough to snap Christian out of whatever trance he’d been in.

Without a word he passed her the other half of the sandwich and then got busy unwrapping his own. Silence followed with a few words spoken here and there when one of them stared at either screen long enough to have a question rise up. It was a good little break from YN’s thoughts about what happened minutes before and also got her mind ready for what she was going to do for the next several hours. Dread filled her, but knew it wasn’t impossible by any means.

“Ready?” Christian asked after finishing off his tea.

YN nodded and just like that they got to work.

Christian was to focus on piecing together a visual that would encompass the entire comeback the Dabin planned, while YN was focused on getting through the main music video. There were some others she had to do, but they were all shorter and didn’t need some of the magic that the main one did. Part of her cursed the team for being so damn ambitious, but it kept her on her toes so she couldn’t complain. Well, wouldn’t complain until she felt the urge to pull out her hair because something wasn’t working.

But for once she went through her edits without any real roadblocks. She navigated the things that they’d talked about adding and her own ideas for things to flow seamlessly. There were a few snags here and there, but they were nothing that she couldn’t fix in a few minutes or that Christian couldn’t help her with.

They’d long learned to work together fluidly so all of it came easily.

A few hours in YN pulled her headphones off and pushed her chair away from the desk. Carefully, she stood up and stretched her body since it got a little stiff from sitting in one position for so long. Once she’d properly given them the movement they needed a yawn ripped free from her lips and she felt a wave of tiredness hit her. Of course, she wasn’t done by any means.

“I’m going to get something hot and something with caffeine from the kitchen, you want anything?” she asked.

Christian didn’t respond so she poked him hard and repeated herself, he shook his head no without ever glancing her way. She knew he’d complain later, but she didn’t have it in her to pester him, so she slipped on a pair of slides near the door and ventured out.

The kitchen in the building DPR was set up in wasn’t too far from Christian’s studio, in fact she walked back fifteen feet to get to it. Something she was thankful about because despite being in motion she felt her body grow more tired as each second passed. It’s why she was quick to grab an energy drink from the fridge and down that thing. It was followed by the consumption of red ginseng because it always helped her in some way. Or at least she placebo effected herself into that thought. After she moved to make herself some hot chocolate. Thankfully, they had a Keurig, so she didn’t have to worry about heating water herself. By the time it was done she’d gotten a few large marshmallows from her hidden stash and happily deposited on top of the hot, chocolatey liquid.

With her energy drinks consumed and her hot beverage ready she made her way back to the room. She took care not to spill any of the drink and sat it down on the small table that Christian kept over on her side. It was where she sat all her drinks or food out of fear that she would knock it over if it were on the desk with all the equipment.

The moment her butt hit the chair there was a frustrated grunt and Christian all but threw his headphones down. His right hand moved to card through his hair and his eyes closed as he let out a harsh breath.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as she moved closer.

There was no response, but she waited for him to get his bearings. Sometimes editing made you so annoyed that words failed to come together right away. There had been many instances where someone asked her questions and all they got in return was grunts or her starting a word only to scream halfway through.

A minute or two went by before he opened his eyes and spoke up.

“I just can’t get it to transition like I want. I’ve been trying different methods for the last hour and assumed I wanted to try out all the options, but they just fuckin’ suck. I don’t want it to suck. It needs to not suck.”

“I doubt it sucks, let me see,” she said as she moved even closer.

However, Christian was having none of it and knocked his chair into hers so she’d go back onto her side. He was stubborn as hell when in a mindset of defeat, so she had to be persistent. She knocked chairs with him a few more times before getting up. Before he could steady himself she pushed it back and it rolled almost to the door. Standing she leaned over and looked at what he had. Nothing sucked per se, but she could see what his issue was.

She got several clicks in before he protested again.

“I’ll just choose one and come back to it tomorrow or something. It’s fine, you have your own stuff to work on.”

“Shh.”

“Did you just shh me?” he asked incredulously.

Rolling her eyes she turned around to glare at him but froze up when she realized he was standing and doing it awfully close to her. His head was tilted down as he stared at her and with the way she’d held her head up high their faces where maybe an inch apart.

In an instant the atmosphere changed and YN did not know what to do. Part of her screamed to back away quickly and the other part of her wanted her to close the gap. The voices in her head were at war and then she noticed his eyes on her lips again and threw out all fear.

As she leaned closer Christian did too and soon enough their lips were pressed against each other. The initial kiss was chastise, something to test the waters, but once they got comfortable with it the intensity grew. Their heads tilted and their bodies pressed closer together. Soon enough YN’s fingers were threaded in his hair and his hands caressed her hips and ass.

With her lips on his all thoughts kind of left her, besides how soft they were and how she wished she’d kissed him sooner. And how she didn’t want to stop doing it.

Christian squeezed her ass a little too hard though and in retaliation she slowed the kiss and bit his lower lip. When he stilled she worried about if he didn’t like that, but then he released a sound akin to a growl. His lips were on hers again in seconds and she got so wrapped up in the kiss that she didn’t realize that he’d started lowering onto his chair and bringing her with him. She didn’t start to pay attention until he had her straddle one of his thighs.

He wasted no time with subtlety bouncing that thigh causing a bit of friction between her legs. It was bearable for a while but then he pressed a little hard and her lips parted as a gasp escaped them. Christian took that as a chance to slip his tongue into her mouth, swirling around hers. Though compliant with all his actions YN did try to gain control of the kiss, but all it took was another firm grazing of her crotch to have her moaning out. One bounce in particular had her pulling away from his lips.

But just because she stopped didn’t mean that Christian did, his lips went to kiss along her collarbone which was readily exposed in the off the shoulder top she wore. The feeling of them on her skin sent a shiver up her spine and inadvertently had her grinding down on his thigh, which only got her even more excited.

Her pleasure must have been apparent because once again Christian’s hands were on her hips. Unlike before though he used that leverage to move her along his thigh. With his lips still kissing across her shoulder and neck he moved her back and forth, ensuring he was pressing down enough that she could feel the friction despite her shorts.

The pace was slow at first, but it was enough to ensure that YN was growing wetter by the second. Her body felt on fire and it didn’t help when Christian began to suckle hickies onto her. She felt very stimulated and that’s what caused her to cry out in pleasure when he began to speed up the pace.

“Fuck,” she said.

“Oh, we’ll definitely get to that, but why don’t you take over and ride my thigh, baby? Get yourself worked up for me,” he whispered in her ear, slowly pulling away but not before biting gently on the lobe.

YN did not need to be told twice. Her hands moved to his shoulders and she sat firmly on his thigh before dragging herself back and forth. At first, she was frustrated because she couldn’t find the right amount of pressure to feel anything worthwhile, but before she could give up Christian started guiding her.

“Just like that. Yeah, you’re doing so good for me. Keep going and you can pick up the pace. Make yourself feel good,” he said.

There was no verbal response from YN besides the moans she released when the friction truly started up. Goosebumps covered her skin the more she got into, her body tingled and she wanted more. Craved more.

But the look in Christian’s eyes as he watched her get herself off was too good a sight. His eyes had darkened a bit and she could see the lust in them. It didn’t help that he was biting his lower lip as his eyes remained firmly on the thigh she was on. He was enjoying the show and she wanted to give him more, so she kept going and her pace quickened again.

Though her pace change was also out of desperation. She’d gotten worked up quickly and despite how good his thigh felt her orgasm felt out of reach. Getting closer to it was all she wanted, so she moved with a vigor that could get her there.

That didn’t fly with Christian though, his hands held her still.

“No, no. You are not cumming on my thigh. You’re doing that with me inside of you,” he said.

YN groaned. “Then get inside of me.”

That elicited a laugh from him and made YN finally look directly into his eyes. He appeared very amused by how she’d responded.

“I should have known you’d be just as bossy like this.”

Naturally, that ended with her lightly slapping his shoulder which brought on more laughter from him. She was ready to get off his lap after that but yet again he held her in place.

The thing was that unlike before the expression on his face was softer and less like that of a man who said she would only cum on his dick.

“I know this is ruining the moment, but before I bend you over this desk and fuck you until you can’t walk I want to be very clear with you. I want to be with you. This is not me just fucking you because I find you attractive as hell. Got it?” he said.

Though she wanted to roll her eyes at his delivery she couldn’t help but smile as happiness filled her. Hearing him say it made her night and she would stay like she was or cuddled up to him for the rest of the evening, but there was a persistent problem still between her legs.

She leaned forward and leaned towards his ear to whisper, “And I want to be with you, but we can discuss that later. For now you have a problem to fix and a lot to prove if you think you’re going to put me on bedrest tomorrow.”

It didn’t take long for him to get her off his lap. He barked orders about getting off her shorts and panties while he ran out of the room for a moment. By the time he returned she was undressed on her lower half and bent over on the desk. Her legs were spread slightly and it gave him the view of her glistening pussy, just like she wanted.

“Shit,” he mumbled.

YN tried to keep the laughter from escaping her at his reaction knowing he’d probably tease her if she did. There was no time for all that, she needed him inside her as soon as possible.

Once she heard the sound of pants unzipping and dropping she felt herself perk up. Her ass rose up a little more and that seemed to pull another groan from Christian who sounded like he was fumbling with something behind her. She was going to ask if he needed help but then she felt the head of his dick press against her slit and she moaned.

Slowly he moved it between the lips of her pussy causing her to push back wanting more. The feeling was so good, but she still needed him to go further. Thankfully, he didn’t keep her waiting for long. Before she could fully process it he’d pushed inside of her completely. There was some discomfort from the sudden intrusion–one that was the first of its kind in a year–but he didn’t move and she adjusted fast. The stretch still felt a bit odd, but not something she hated. In fact, she loved the feeling of being full of him.

“You can move,” she said.

He didn’t need to be told twice because in the next second he was moving at a moderate pace. His hips moved back and forth, while one hand on her back kept him balanced.

YN’s eyes fluttered closed as she focused on the feeling of him. She’d been worked up enough that she was more than prepared for him, but also enough that she was sensitive. It wasn’t the same level as if she’d orgasmed, but it was enough to have her feeling extra with every stroke.

After several thrusts at that speed Christian suddenly sped up out of nowhere. It was enough that her hips moved away from the desk and hit against it every time he slammed back into her. It was a little painful, but the feeling of his dick pushing into her and hitting just the right spot made up for it. Her moans had been soft before, but with each thrust she grew louder.

At some point she was almost screaming out because of the brutal pace, but that didn’t mean that he slowed down. In all honesty it felt like he went harder and she loved every second of it. Wanted him to never stop.

And because she was so focused on how he felt she didn’t notice the tightening in her stomach and the way she was close to the edge until she was over it. Her eyes opened wide as her orgasm crashed through her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she said.

Despite the clear indication that she’d come Christian didn’t stop. His pace slowed down some, but he kept pistoning into her. As she finished the last moment of her high the sensitivity set in, but she found herself building up again. Her pussy wanted a break, but she wanted him to keep going.

While she was ready to stay bent over for him until he came, Christian had other plans. Using his right arm he wrapped it around her torso and pulled her up so her back was against his chest. That hand moved down to rub her clit, something that had hips bucking because it felt like too much. She squirmed a lot, but then his left hand came around to wrap around her throat and she stilled.

“You’re going to give me another one, right?” he asked, though she knew it wasn’t up for discussion.

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Without another word spoken by either of them he kept her how she was and continued to thrust into her, but his intense pace from before returned. His hand continued to rub and pinch her clit, which caused her to vibrate in pleasure. Plus, his hand remained around her throat squeezing every so often and she loved it more than she cared to admit. So much that her next orgasm came a little quicker than the last.

There was a weird feeling in her stomach though, but she had no time to assess it before she came. Her pussy spasmed and then she felt an intense pressure before she felt her thigh grow wet.

She’d squirted all over his dick and herself.

“Fuck, definitely going to have to do that again some other time,” he murmured.

YN didn’t even have it in her to respond to him, she just relaxed against her body as he continued fucking her. It took a minute or two before his precision slipped and she heard him moan out. He didn’t stop until he finished cumming and then he just stood there, his chest rising and falling heavily against her.

Three minutes passed with them like that before YN said something.

“We can’t stand here all night. Also, I’m so tired from this and working, we gotta rap this up.”

Christian laughed, but pulled out. From there YN leaned against the desk trying to orient herself. In that time Christian had discarded the condom and pulled his pants back up. He helped her do the same, though he didn’t bother fixing her pants completely. H

Carefully he turned her around to face him and smiled at her clearly exhausted, but happy face.

“How about we take showers, get changed, and call it a night? If you want you can stay at mine and we can start first thing in the morning,” he said.

Not one second was wasted debating it, YN just nodded in agreement.

“If I can shower and sleep I’ll be happy.”

That made Christian smile wider and then he leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips. He moved away to lead the way out, but YN took one step before reaching out to grip his arm. Worry colored his expression and then when he noticed the way her legs seemed to shake a little a smirk made its way onto his face.

“What was that about me having to prove something?” he asked.

“Fuck you.”

#danicaday #kwritersworldnet #christian yu x reader #christian x reader #christian yu smut #christian yu fluff #dpr ian x reader #christian yu #dpr ian #yu barom #khh fanfic #krnb fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

[tallstars-rewrite]

Chapter 30

chapter list / previous / next

In the afternoon most of the clan was sharing tongues, catching the rays of warmth on that especially hot day. Talltail looked around camp. His heart thudded in his chest with the certainty of what he was about to do. How should he go about this? He thought of announcing it formally, but the idea of having so much attention on him, facing everyone’s anger when they realized he had betrayed the oath he’d taken not even a full moon ago...He wasn’t strong enough. 

Would they even let him leave? Perhaps it would be better if he just vanished. It would be a shock, but then everyone would move on, as they always did. What was one more cowardly act on his growing pile? He already felt awful, it couldn’t get much worse. But he had to say something to the cats he had once been closest to, even if he had drifted away from most of them in the past few moons. He’d say goodbye to every cat if he could, but too many would start raising questions. 

Talltail decided he would part with one last gift. He’d gotten good at solo hunting recently, if nothing else, but he was going to have to catch a lot of prey to come up with enough excuses to speak to every cat he wanted to speak to one last time. 

Through the afternoon and into the evening Talltail went to every place on the moor he knew would have active rodents. It was a good haul for him, even on his best days, despite the heavy heat beating down making him drowsy. The edge of the territory near the woodland strip that bordered the pastures was still alive with field mice as it had been when he’d hunted there for Jake. He looked sadly at the treeline where a friendly orange barn cat had once waited for him. Another face he’d never see again. Who knows what the twoleg monsters had done to that poor cat they had tricked. He’ could be dead now. Another claw prick of guilt for the pile, wishing he had tried harder to convince Jake to leave them. But that was over now. Nothing good came from messing with outsiders. It took a couple trips to get all his prey in one pile.

He looked forlorn at the places he had loved most on the moor. It was all he had known and he could scarcely believe he wouldn’t see it again. The places he used to go to clear his head or cheer himself up. The feeling of flying unfettered as he ran full sprint down the Swift-Step Hills, the gorse speckled meadow where he’d once watched deer herds with Fallowspring and Fawnleap, flower patches where he’d helped Briarpaw gather herbs, the track he and Shrewpaw raced against each other at the start of newleaf, everywhere he’d trained with Dawnstripe. Times when he had felt slightly less lost. 

His pile of fresh-kill had grown to a decent amount. The hint of new purpose had perhaps made his mind sharper, less foggy, and he’d been able to focus effortlessly on every chase and every pounce. He was surprisingly less of a lousy hunter when he wasn’t feeling so distracted by directionless misery. Who would have guessed? Well, Dawnstripe did. She was good at that sort of thing, he thought with a touch of melancholy.

 He trailed past the collapsed warren where Sandstone had vanished, and sat there for a brief moment, staring at the disheveled earth. The plants he’d placed there with Woollycloud and Palebird had long since wilted and whisked away.

“I’m sorry,” Talltail said aloud to the empty air. “You were the best warrior WindClan had. I know despite everything, you just wanted to make me strong. But I understand now what I must do. You always said that action must be taken to right the wrongs in the world. If I was strong enough to right ShadowClan, or fix the tunnels, I would. But I know I can’t. But there is one thing I can do, so at least you can finally rest peacefully. I may have failed as a clan cat, but if it’s the last thing I do, this I will make right.”

I hope you can forgive me, He pleaded in his head. The wind started to pick up in a brief gust, it whipped at him and he ducked into the grass. Somehow it felt wrong to greet the Wind Runner’s embrace. He was a traitor to her, or would be soon.

He continued back with his catches, needing multiple trips to get it all there alone, and it was nearly past sunset when he finished. Plumclaw was nearby with Mistmouse.

“By StarClan, did you catch all that yourself?” Plumclaw asked. 

“Must have been a good day.” Mistmouse purred.

Talltail dipped his head, trying to appear natural. If I get worked up, they’ll sense it and ask what’s wrong. 

“Yes, feel free to help yourselves. Think of it as an apology catch.”

“Apology for what?” Mistmouse cocked her head

“Just for being a bit of a pain lately. You’ve always been so sympathetic to me Mistmouse.” he turned to Plumclaw, his ears drooped a little as he ducked his head “and for...all the trouble I caused in the tunnels.”

Plumclaw twitched her whiskers in surprise “That was moons ago. It really wasn’t just you that made Heatherstar close everything…” she perked up a bit, that determined light returning to her tawny eyes. “Besides, I haven’t given up. She just has a burr in her butt right now, but I’ll find a way to keep our skills alive.”

“I trust you will. You’re an incredible tunneler. The clan could learn a lot from you.”

She seemed a bit taken aback by his sincerity but a purr rose in her throat nonetheless. 

Mistmouse winked at him before he turned to leave. “That’ll go to her head you know.”

“No it won’t. It’s just the truth, after all. I’m great.” Plumclaw said. 

Talltail hid a smile as the two molly’s bantered behind. It eased him a little, knowing some cat was around who carried on his fathers’ skills.

He found Fawnleap and Ryewhisker lounging together in the fading sun. Fawnleap had set his head on his sister's foreleg and was complaining.

“--and Fallowspring’s off with Shrewclaw again, like she doesn’t even have time for me! It’s so unfair. I’m bored.”

“You poor wretched thing.” Ryewhisker crooned “It must be so hard without our sister to help you torment poor Cloudrunner for a day.”

“It is, I had this whole prank planned out!”

Talltail padded up to them a bit cautiously. Ryewhisker blinked, clearly a bit surprised when she caught sight of him. Fawnleap, unfazed as ever, waved his tail at him. Talltail dropped the mice he carried.

“I brought you this.”

“Oh is that fresh? Forget what I said before, I feel better now.” Fawnleap said as he greedily snagged up a mouse.

“Is there an occasion?” Ryewhisker asked coolly. “You haven’t spoken to me in a while.”

“Yeah. It’s an apology. Thank you for trying to be patient with me. I’d like you to pass that to Fallowspring, if she’d accept it.” He looked to Fawnleap, who had a mouse half way out of his mouth. “And for you, for just continuing to be...whatever it is you are, despite everything.”

Fawnleap blinked at him and nodded seriously, which looked even more absurd considering his mouth was still full.

“I appreciate it, Talltail,” Ryewhisker said. “And you know, Fallowspring isn’t really still mad at you. She’s never mad for long, or she would have long since disowned Fawnleap. She’s just… got a lot on her mind right now.”

Fawnleap scoffed, “And a lot of it has to do with hunting with Shrewclaw instead of me.” “Of course,” Talltail said, “I’m sure everything will work itself out.”

Next he found Lilywhisker, as he saw her tail vanish into the nursery. He couldn’t manage a rabbit for her, but he’d found a plump vole. He poked his head into the overhanging roots of the warm milk-scented den. It had been so long since he was in here. Talltail was momentarily worried he was intruding, but Lilywhisker nodded at him in a friendly way as she saw him, though she looked a bit tired.

“I caught this for you. And there’s more to bring to Meadowbreeze,” he said. 

“That’s very sweet of you Talltail.” she smiled

“I hope the kits are doing well.”

“They’re doing wonderfully!” Meadowbreeze chirped. He couldn’t believe the new mother still had as much energy as she did. “They all opened their eyes already. I still can’t make up my mind on names, but I’ll think of them soon.”

Lilywhisker gave a good natured exasperated sigh.

 “They are certainly going to be a pawful, I can already tell. And I thought your sister's lot in the nursery were energetic.” She looked at Talltail, “Meadowbreeze swears she won’t want a break, but we’ll see about that.”

“I’m sure they’ll be in good care with you. And….thank you for that. You spent a lot of time caring for me when I was young.” “Oh, don’t even thank me, Talltail.” Lilywhisker purred. “You were such an easy and well behaved kit, like I probably will never get again.”

Talltail dipped his head and ducked out of the nursery, making way for a frazzled Hazelnose who had more new soft grass in his jaws. He’s going to flood the place with soft grass. Some cat should tell him to relax, Talltail thought as the brown tom slipped past. The kits were lucky to have such doting and devoted parents. He was a bit sad he wouldn’t see who Meadowbreeze’s kits grew up to be.

As he began searching for Dawnstripe, the sadness in him felt like it was going to crawl up his throat and choke him. It would be the worst saying goodbye to her, after all she’d done. She had left camp with Appledawn moments ago. As he padded after her, he spotted Shrewclaw returning with Redclaw and Fallowspring. Shrewclaw almost looked happy as he chatted with Fallowspring. It was a surprise to Talltail, but he found that he felt relieved.

 He surprised himself even more when he called out to Shrewclaw. The three cats turned, looking a bit startled. Fallowspring whispered something to the others, then she gestured to Redclaw to follow her back into camp. Shrewclaw looked after them, as if he didn’t know what he wanted to do. Talltail wondered if it was a mistake to do what he did, but it was too late now. 

Shrewclaw narrowed his eyes, but he seemed caught off guard by the lack of hostility in Talltail’s face.

“...What?” there was a hint of defensiveness in his voice, but more so confusion. Of course, Talltail hadn’t said a word to him since their assessment. 

He was quiet for a moment. There was a lot lost between them. But it would do no good to get into it, and Shrewclaw likely wouldn’t want to. At last, all he managed to say was, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“Yes. You have a right to hate me. I would, if I were you. I hope you can be happy again. I mean it.” he was surprised to find that he really did. Part of him wanted to hold onto resenting Shrewclaw, but if this was it, what was the point? He didn’t need it. And without the resentment, all he was left with was regret and sadness. Shrewclaw gaped at him. His ears flattened and perked up again between annoyance and surprise as if he truly couldn’t decide how to feel. They had never had a relationship where they spoke sincerely to each other like that, even during the best of times.

Eventually Shrewclaw looked away and grumbled into his chest, trying not to show how incredibly awkward he felt, and clearly uncertain whether he was ready to give up any of his cold demeanor to peer through the deeply rooted thorns between them.

 “Ok. Whatever.” he said stiffly. “Well. I don’t really want to talk about it. I’m going back to camp. Bye.”

“Bye Shrewclaw,” Talltail murmured. The temperamental tom would probably have still been hostile if Talltail hadn’t caught him so off guard. That was fine. Shrewclaw wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore anyway.

To his simultaneous relief and dread, Dawnstripe had not gone far yet. He padded up to her, and she greeted him warmly.

“You’re not going for another hunt again are you? I saw the haul you brought back earlier, it looks like you pulled two days of work in one afternoon,” she said.

“No, I was looking for you,” he said. It took everything he had to keep the grief out of his voice. He pressed his nose under her chin and held it there to hide his face.

“Oh,” she said, surprised, but not unpleasantly. “Everything’s alright I hope?”

“Yes. Everything will be fine. I feel like...I’ve never properly thanked you for all you’ve done for me.”

She purred in laughter. “You thank me all the time, Talltail.”

“Yes, but really thanked you I mean,” he pulled back. “I know I haven’t always been easy to put up with, but you never gave up on me, even when…” even when you should have, he thought, but saying it aloud would prompt her to disagree. He shook his head and rubbed his cheek against hers.

 “You are a wonderful mentor, and every apprentice you have after me will be lucky.”

She blinked at him when he finally pulled back. “That’s a lot Talltail, but...thank you, of course. Are you sure everything’s ok?”

“I’m sure. I just wanted to tell you is all. I’m going for a walk. Good luck on your hunt.”

He left quickly, sure if he stayed any longer he wouldn’t be able to contain his emotions. It wasn’t fair, to her more than any cat. She’d tried so hard for him, she trusted him, was patient and encouraging through everything, but he still didn’t really deserve his warrior name. 

He wouldn’t be able to stay much longer, or cats would start wondering about his behavior. He didn’t want anyone to try and stop him. Woollycloud was already too suspicious to risk. Who else was there? 

He knew before he’d really asked himself. Talltail climbed up onto Outlook Hill, the highest point on the territory to get a better look around, and to his surprise, there he was.

 Briarpaw was sitting curled up on a rock, watching the sun set below the horizon. Maybe luck was on his side after all. But what could he say to Briarpaw? His oldest friend would surely see through him. Something told him, somehow, perhaps he already did. Briarpaw looked up at him, with such sadness in his eyes when Talltail approached. 

“What are you doing up here?” Talltail asked tentatively. 

“It’s part of my training to listen,” Briarpaw replied. “Everything is clearest up here, so this is where I meditate.”

“What are you listening to?”

“Everything I suppose. Whatever speaks. The clouds, the wind, the gorse.” His eyes were fixed on the bright red clouds catching the rays of sunset, a mix of blazing orange and dark stormy blue. Talltail sat beside him. Knowing this was his last step was making him want to drag his paws. It might be the last time he saw the sun set on the moor, casting the sky in so many brilliant hues. 

“What are the clouds saying today?” Talltail wasn’t sure if he was trying to make small talk, but he was certainly stalling.

“There’s going to be storms. Bad ones, I think. The rains will be late, but when they come, it will be heavy and dark.”

It was hard to picture storms with all this blistering heat clouding Talltail’s head and seeping into his fur. The brilliant light shimmering on the edge of the horizon line was all he could focus on. He pondered for a moment how he may very well travel to that far horizon line, see the hills bathed in light up close. A goal far off in the distance to aim for. His paws were itching and restless even though at the same time he was horribly afraid to feel so lost and far away.

“It looks a bit like fire, doesn’t it? Reaching up on the horizon.” Briarpaw murmured, seemingly half to himself. He looked up at Tallpaw “You look like you're burning yourself, the way it catches your dark fur.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Talltail said carefully. “I’ve never seen real fire.” He’d of course been lucky enough to only know about it through stories. Talltail glanced at the medicine cat apprentice. “Has StarClan shown you dreams of what it really looks like?”

“I have dreamt of it before, yes.” Briarpaw replied. His gaze was still fixed on the distant hills. “It’s bright, flickering, and brilliant orange. A lot like the color of your eyes, actually.”

Talltail sniffed, “Well, I’ve never really gotten a good look at my own eyes.”

“I know. I think it’s hard for you to see any part of yourself very clearly.”

Talltail faltered a bit. “Well, I mean...There’s not a lot of clear still water nearby. The reflections are always murky.”

Talltail didn’t know how else to reply. Briarpaw was probably suggesting more with his words as he often did, but that didn’t make Talltail any more sure of how to address it.

Briarpaw shifted his paws under himself, and was silent for a long moment before continuing.

 “Do you remember the first time we came up here together? On your first day as an apprentice?”

“Yeah,” Tallpaw replied. “It feels like so long ago now.”

“Back then when I was with you, I started hearing something similar to what I hear now, though I didn’t fully understand it. Or maybe I didn’t want to understand it. I’ve been watching you walk around to everyone.” A deep grief glimmered in his golden eyes as he blinked up at his friend. “You’re really going to leave after all, aren’t you?”

Talltail stared at him, worried for a moment that Briarpaw had told someone, but Briarpaw looked so resigned.

 “...Yes. How did you know?”

“I dream about you a lot, Talltail. I always have. Of course, I dream about lots of cats, and always struggle to put the pieces together of what they mean.”

“Medicine cat stuff, I suppose,” Talltail laughed without humor. “Does StarClan want me to go?”

“No. StarClan doesn’t wish for things like that. StarClan can guide us, but these visions...I’m not sure where they come from or why they come to me. Perhaps they have no allegiance at all. There is so much in the world beyond what we know underneath our Silverpelt.” Briarpaw looked up into the sky, seeming suddenly far away. “...I’ve messed up a lot of visions. Hawkheart says it's normal for an apprentice, but it’s made me so afraid. Afraid I could steer a cat in the wrong direction. It’s led to me...being afraid to speak to you sometimes.”

Talltail blinked at him “You were...afraid? I thought...I thought you were just upset with me.”

“I’ve never been upset with you. I’m sorry... I was so unsure. I wanted to avoid the future I didn’t want to face. Even now part of me thinks perhaps I could have tried to push you onto a different path, one that didn’t make me face this. But I think...one way or another, it would have ended up worse for you. So here we are, and you’re on your path now.”

“You agree I should leave then?” Talltail didn’t know whether that made him relieved or sad.

 Briarpaw’s gaze drifted to the ground at his paws. “I don’t want you to go. And I hope that you’ll find the way back here someday soon.”

“I don’t think I will be coming back," Talltail said. “I...I don’t belong here. I have felt wrong for moons. Out of place. I feel inadequate, and there is nothing I can do to change the wrong here that weighs on me. There is one thing I feel called to do, and the only thing I’m sure of is that I can’t do it here, as a simple warrior. Everything I do here can be done by someone else, and let's be honest, I haven’t been great at keeping close friends.”

“I’m sorry you’ve felt that way,” Briarpaw sounded so sincere. “I hope you understand how many cats will notice your absence. By every cat you’ve spoken to and even the ones you won’t.”

It’s his job to say that. Talltail thought. He made cats uncomfortable more often than not, or plagued their minds with worry. Better to cut the tie and make them not have to worry anymore. “You won’t try to stop me then?” 

“No. But...you don’t have to go. I’ll help you. Dawnstripe will, and Woollycloud I’m sure...they’ll be heartbroken if you go.”

Talltail faltered. 

Perhaps they would. He looked down at the camp behind him, and then over across the moor he’d grown up in. He knew it all so well.

For a moment he did almost want to give up his idea. A thought crossed his mind, a flicker of hope. What if everything could be fixed, and he could find a way to feel accepted here. He could apologize and mend every bridge he’d broken. Dawnstripe and Woollycloud would stop worrying. He was a simple runner, but he could try to be the best one he could be. He wouldn’t have to leave his home, he wouldn’t have to leave the cats he came to care for. Maybe somehow it could be ok.

The thought warmed him as it flickered briefly through his mind. But as fast as the spark lit up, that little light of hope was smothered. That was just what he wanted to be true. That happiness wasn’t his to lounge in when there was so much wrong done in the world.

“I...can’t.” Talltail sighed. “They will be upset, after all the time they’ve spent trying to help me. But they will move on. The clan has moved on from so many losses. If I stay...I’ll go mad. I can’t ignore what I feel must be done any longer.”

The little hope that had appeared in Briarpaw’s eyes faded as his face fell. “If this is what you choose...you must choose it on your own. Now that you're here I can see that. No cat can stop you. I wish you had told the clan formally though.”

Talltail ducked his head. He was ashamed himself.

“I’m just...I’m just not strong enough. They’ll know soon enough. If StarClan has been showing you this outcome, then it’s what they think is best too.”

Briarpaw stood and faced him “StarClan wants you to be sure of where you put your paws. You are one of the Wind Runner’s children. You’ve always been worthy.” He pressed his nose to Talltail’s cheek, “I love you, Talltail. So many of us do. Even if you don’t come back, it will still be true. I hope someday you will know why.”

Talltail held his face against Briarpaw’s for a long moment. It hurt him deeply. But he had to go, before he could change his mind. This had to be done. He needed to rip the thorn out and leave, quickly. He stepped back, gave Briarpaw one last look over his shoulder and started at a run down the hill, to the south. He didn’t look back at Briarpaw again. 

As he ran, the greenleaf wind brought strong sweet smelling heat as it rushed through his fur. It seemed to be pulling him in every direction. Was he being chased out or held back? He couldn’t tell. He ducked his head against it as he flew through the darkening sunset. 

Before reaching the edge of the moorland, he stopped. As soon as he passed, there was no going back. 

He froze, and pricked his ears. Someone was nearby. 

There were two very pale amber eyes watching him, staring wide and questioning.

Palebird.

Talltail looked back at his mother. Why was she out here? He hadn’t even thought about going to see her. What would be the point? They had said everything they could say and rarely saw each other anymore. 

He looked at her for a long moment. Maybe you’ll go back to normal when I’m gone. Maybe you can cut your old broken life away and finally start a new one. He didn’t want to tell her that out loud. Palebird didn’t speak to him before, and she wouldn’t start now. 

But to his surprise, she did. She took the smallest step towards him.

“Talltail?” she mewed in her cracked and fragile voice. “Where are you going?”

He opened his mouth to reply. But there was still nothing to say. He was too afraid of what might come out if he really tried to speak to his mother. 

So instead, Talltail made the very last cowardly decision he would make in his home territory. He turned, saying nothing at all, and simply kept walking. She didn’t follow him, but he felt her eyes as he went. To the edge of the moor. To the dark treeline looming above him. The wind cut off here, blocked by the thick towering branches. It was quiet at last. 

He stepped into the shadows, and was lost from his mother's view.

chapter list / previous / next

#FRU30 #chapter 30 #cw depression

[fandom-scatteredthoughtsonpaper]

A birthday fic to correct the awful event Mammon got!

Countdown to Your Special Day

Mammon x Yuki (My MC)

Pronouns: Zie/zir, they/them. If it's easier to read, feel free to sub in they/them for the main pronouns

Tags: Light-hearted romance, fluff/comfort, slight misunderstandings, agender MC, self-indulgent

Words: 4436

[2 months and 1 day away]

-Yuki was curled up in the corner of the couch, concentrated on zir D.D.D. Zie had an open notebook next to zir, the pages filled with calculated numbers and final prices with names of potential websites beside them, some scribbled out and some circled.

-Mammon's birthday was coming up in a couple months, and Yuki had started late in saving money for the surprise zie had wanted to plan for him. He had mentioned it last year as an ideal day, and zie really wanted to make it happen, especially considering all zie did for him was write a bunch of heartfelt letters. Zie wanted to give him something to really experience this time.

-It was just a bit more expensive than zie had realized. Rentals next to a lake were nothing to sneeze at.

-So absorbed with zir phone, Yuki hadn't noticed Lucifer as he entered the library where zie had gone to avoid nosy demons.

-"What are you doing in here, Yuki?"

-Startled, zie dropped zir phone and reflexively covered the notebook. When Yuki realized it was Lucifer, zie relaxed and slumped back against the couch. "Oh, it's just you. Don't scare me like that."

-"That was a bit of a reaction. Are you doing something I should be aware of?"

-"No," was zir immediate response, but then zie reconsidered zir answer. Yuki had been fumbling numbers and trying to make a decision for hours. Zie wanted to do this zirself, but zie'd never done something like this and probably, reluctantly, needed some aid. "Actually, yeah. I need your... help."

-Lucifer blinked, surprised. He hadn't expected this stubborn human who actively tried to make his life harder to ask for help, but Yuki seemed genuine in zir request. "Alright. What is it?"

[1 month and 23 days away]

-Mammon was by the entrance to RAD, waiting for Yuki to come out so they could go home together. Zie had been preoccupied with Lucifer this morning and hadn't left with the younger brothers like usual.

-His day had felt off with Yuki's absence but walking home with zir would make up for it.

-Fiddling around on his D.D.D., checking his sells and ignoring demands from the witches, he occasionally glanced up when saw movement coming out, but it was never Yuki. Hearing familiar voices when the doors cracked open, Mammon took his attention off his phone. It was only Levi and Satan, but maybe Yuki was trailing shortly behind.

-"Mammon, what are you still doing here?"

-"Yeah, I thought you'd be long gone by now after the way you rushed out of the classroom."

-"Shaddup. What's it to ya?" He paused. "I was waitin' for Yuki. Did ya happen to see 'em in there?"

-"So honest. Just say that to begin with," Levi muttered.

-"I think Yuki left earlier with Barbatos."

-"Yep, I overheard Barbatos mention that Lord Diavolo wanted to talk with them about something."

-"What?! Yuki didn't mention anythin' about meetin' with Lord Diavolo to me."

-Satan quirked a bemused eyebrow at Mammon's response. "Why would Yuki need to run it by you about meeting with Lord Diavolo?"

-"LOLOL, it's because Yuki's been avoiding Mammon for a week now. He's been acting like a stray dog without Yuki around."

-Mammon bristled at Levi's comment but didn't rebuttal. He pocketed his phone and walked away from his brothers, darting through the courtyard to leave RAD.

-It was true Yuki had been distant-like the last few of days, but Mammon was sure it was temporary. Even he got tied up in circumstances and important events he couldn't squirm out of. Sometimes it couldn't be helped.

-It wasn't temporary.

[3 weeks and 5 days away]

-"Hey, Yuki--"

-"Sorry, Mammon, I'm running late for my shift. I'll talk to you later!"

-With that as a bye, Yuki was out the door and gone.

-Yuki was usually lackadaisical about any jobs zie took unless one of the brothers worked with zir or if the job required zir full attention. Mammon was usually the first to know if zie had to work, but when--

-"When did Yuki pick up a job?"

-"Jobs," Satan corrected. "Yuki is working at The Fall tonight."

-"The Fall?" Asmo questioned.

"Hold on, what do ya mean 'jobs'? I ain't heard Yuki say anythin' about picking up jobs willingly," Mammon stated, a bit annoyed. He was getting tired of hearing his brothers be more informed about Yuki than he was.

-"When was the last time Yuki actually talked to you, Mammon, that wasn't in passing?" Levi teased without bothering to look up from his game.

-"Hey! We've talked plenty!"

-"Sure, if you want to call those conversations."

-Mammon wanted to argue with Levi, but he really couldn't. He wasn't wrong. Yuki had been absent, and whenever Mammon did manage to talk to zir it was about short and trivial things. It made it hard not to be concerned about the situation of their relationship when Yuki, who was usually glued to his side and spent so much time with him, was suddenly avoiding him. His life had become a bit lonelier without Yuki around.

-"Anyway," Satan interjected, "they've been picking up a lot of shifts from different places the last few weeks. I'm surprised neither you or Asmo knew, considering the network you both have."

-"What the heck does that mean?"

-"It means you're gossiping normies," Levi jeered.

-"Is that s'posed to be an insult?"

-"Besides all that, I'm shocked Yuki picked up shifts at The Fall. I'd love to see the outfit their wearing," Asmo mused. "I'll have to visit them later! I'm sure Yuki will feel completely refreshed after seeing my lovely face."

-Oh, that's right. If Mammon visited Yuki during work hours, zie'd have no choice but to talk with him. He could finally ask zir what the hell has been going on and get an explanation. At the very least just see zir.

-"Well, I'm goin' too! So don't get any funny ideas!"

-"You're not going anywhere, Mammon. You have three extra credit assignments due soon, and you haven't started a single one. Have you?"

-Mammon jumped, frightened by Lucifer's sudden presence behind him. A nervous chill tingled down his spine, so he could only guess the scowl that Lucifer was burning into the back of his head. He tried searching for an excuse, but he was coming up dry.

-Dammit, Lucifer, any time but now!

"W-Well, ya see, dearest big bro--"

-Irritated, Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He could feel a headache creeping on him. "That's what I thought. Mammon, my room. Now. I'm going to watch you finish your assignments, even if it takes all night."

[6 days away]

-Mammon simmered as he walked the hallway to Yuki's bedroom. Yuki had seen his messages, but zie was hardly responding to them, if zie did at all. The thought that he had unconsciously done or said something to offend Yuki teased his anxiety, but Mammon quickly squished it. Zie'd just been busy with work and had no off days, but according to Satan, zie only had one more shift.

-One more day that zie would be busy, but then after that zie'd have tons of free time. Yuki will be back by zir favorite demon's side, and then everything else will fall smoothly back into place.

-It was absurd how empty Mammon could feel with Yuki missing from his daily routines. It was worse than when zie had left, when all he could think about was zir where ever he went. Yuki was here though, so he didn't miss zir physically, not like when zie returned home.

-He missed talking with his human, about anything. He missed expecting to see zir when he turned his head. He was missing a piece of a puzzle, and it was aggravating when it was just in grasp, hiding from him.

-Yuki was going to receive a real earful. He deserved that much of complaining after how he'd been treated.

-That could wait though.

-It had been a while since Mammon and Yuki had gone out on a date, and he had just gotten paid from his latest photoshoot. He was confident if he met with Yuki face-to-face and invited zir out zie wouldn't say no.

-That had been the plan until he saw Yuki coming the down the corridor, walking with a purpose. An antsy feeling stabbed him in the gut.

-"Yuki!"

-Yuki froze mid-stride as Mammon approached zir. "Mammon."

-"Yeah, me! The Great Mammon has decided to bless ya with his presence since ya keep ignorin' my messages. Anyway! Guess who got paid today with a bonus? And guess who's gettin' treated to whatever they feel like tomorrow tonight?"

-"Sorry, Mammon, I can't. I have to go to the human world with Lucifer."

-"What'd'ya mean? I didn't hear nothin' 'bout Lucifer havin' to go to the human world."

"Regardless of what you did or didn't hear, it's true all the same. Yuki and I have an appointment in the human world and won't be back for a couple days. Your plans will have to be postponed for later."

-Why was something always blindsiding him lately?

-"What?! Well, if Yuki's goin', I'm goin' too!"

-"Absolutely not. I don't need you causing havoc when I take my eyes off you for more than a second. Don't worry, though, I'll need your company next week for a special trip to the human world."

-It had been quick, but Mammon had thought he had seen Yuki flicked zir eyes at Lucifer.

-"Mammon, it's just for a couple days. Do your best to tough it out. We'll hang out plenty after, okay?"

"Ya better keep your word."

[The Night Before]

-"Mammon, don't forget you're accompanying me to the human world tomorrow morning," Lucifer announced when everyone had sat down for dinner.

-"Yeah, yeah, I remember," Mammon replied. He wasn't the least bit interested in being ordered around doing paperwork and errands. Catching movement from his peripheral, Mammon noticed Yuki trying to look at him without being obvious. He just got zir back, and they had hardly spent any time together. He didn't want to leave, even if it was just a day. More than anything, he wanted to stay with Yuki. "You should definitely come too. You agree, don't ya, Yuki?"

-Yuki barely had the chance to open zir mouth, let alone formulate an answer, before Lucifer answered instead. "No, Yuki has other affairs to attend tomorrow. It's only a day, Mammon. I'm sure you'll be able to handle it, so don't complain."

-There wasn't any further comments about the trip, but Mammon made it obvious he was still hot under the collar with the way he stomped away, taking Yuki right along with him, when dinner concluded. He had been on cleaning duty with Belphie, but Lucifer offered in his place, quelling any complaints.

-Lucifer smiled amusedly to himself as he cleared the table. If only Mammon was aware enough to know what was planned for the day.

-"I can't believe that jerk," Mammon remarked as he dropped onto Yuki's bed. Yuki rolled zir eyes in response before sitting beside the grumpy demon. "I had plans I wanted to do tomorrow, ya know? Dammit! He just came back from the human world!"

-"Did you actually have plans?" Yuki asked it with a sarcastic tone, but zie was suddenly concerned. It was his birthday tomorrow, so maybe he had made plans that Yuki hadn't accounted for.

-Mammon glared at Yuki, his cheeks a shade darker than a moment prior, either from frustration or embarrassment wasn't certain. "I did," he stated softly.

"With who?"

"You, obviously!"

"Wait, we had plans tomorrow? What di--"

-Before Yuki could finish Mammon yanked zir down next to him, hugging zir tightly. Momentarily surprised, Yuki was slow to return the embrace. Zie expected him to be a bit clingy because zie'd been unavailable to be with him for a while, but this hug felt a bit too tight, desperate.

-"You said we could hang out after y'all returned from the human world, but we ain't had much time without being interrupted or the others butting in."

-"Ah. You're right," Yuki agreed. It's funny how zie had been planning this whole affair for Mammon, but in the process has unintentionally abandoned. Zie regretted that.

-"You're warm," he muttered into zir neck. "..I've missed ya like crazy. I've been dyin' to hug you, but it isn't actually enough now that I am. I'm not lettin' you go for the rest of the night."

-A soft sting of guilt hit Yuki's heart. Zie probably could have done a better job of trying to keep the surprise a secret without leaving Mammon completely in the dark, but between the jobs and helping Diavolo and classes taking up the majority of zir time... No, that wasn't an excuse. Yuki had hurt Mammon. That was obvious.

-Yuki entangled zir legs with Mammon's and reached zir arms around his waist, holding him close. Zie took a moment to just be with Mammon, inhaling his smell, hearing his heart beat. Zie had missed him too, a whole bunch, almost too much, but hopefully tomorrow would make up for the weeks of absence and neglect. "I missed you, too, Mammon. Just put up with it for a little bit longer."

[The Day!]

-"Happy birthday, Mammon!!"

-He had heard Yuki's voice before he had actually seen zir. He was flabbergasted to see zir come out of the cabin he had arrived at.

-When Mammon had woken up and joined the others for breakfast, Yuki had already left. It wasn't long after that Lucifer and he prepared for the trip to the human world. He had dragged his feet and groaned, making a show of not wanting to go. When Lucifer had sent Mammon ahead of him to get things ready, he thought it had been a punishment for his attitude, but after coming through the portal into the human world, he realized it wasn't in the city or anywhere near the hotel they usually stayed at.

-The scenery was beautiful and spacious, open in nature with cabins lining a sparking lake that had docks and piers dividing it. Unlike the city cramped full of people and towering buildings designed with glaring windows that bounced the bright sunlight off of them and funky smells, this area was full of trees that casted cool shadows and a refreshing breeze that rustled the leaves.

-Mammon was absolutely gobsmacked.

-Yuki beamed when zie saw the awestruck trance Mammon was in. Zie was hoping he'd like it. Mammon was definitely a city boy, but Yuki took a guess he enjoyed the lure of natural scenery too, based on their picnic date and walks through the forests.

-Mammon's daze broke when he saw Yuki approaching him. "What's goin' on, Yuki?"

-"C'mon, ya dummy, think! You didn't expect Lucifer to make you go on a business trip on your birthday, did you? It was his way of bringing you up here without being suspicious. Although, I thought you definitely would've caught on last week with what he said."

-He had completely forgotten about his birthday. Mammon had been entirely focused on Yuki and zir strange attitude that he'd spaced on even the date.

-"Oh."

-"Yeah, so," Yuki stepped back and spread zir arms out, displaying the lake on zir right and the cabin on zir left, "happy birthday... again! You mentioned a cabin by a lake as an ideal place to go, and you also wanted to rent a boat in the park, so I thought merging the two together would be a good idea! On top of that, I plan to 'spoil ya rotten all day'. What does the Great Mammon think?"

-"Ya know, I'm not deaf to the mocking tone. You're killin' the mood before it's even started, but I guess I can let it slide!"

[Final Hours]

-As the dimming daylight darkened through the pulled curtains, Yuki and Mammon lounged restfully on the couch. Mammon used Yuki's lap as a pillow as zie stroked zir fingers against his head. The tingling feeling traveled down his spine and relaxed his body. He could probably fall asleep in this position with Yuki brushing his hair with such tender touches. If they were at the House of Lamentation, they wouldn't be able to have this kind of moment without being interrupted by his brothers. Too bad the day was coming to an end.

-Dwelling on the negative thought caused him to unintentionally frown, and Yuki noticed the crease on his brow. Zie poked his forehead to get his attention, and his eyes opened to see Yuki leaning over him.

-"What are you thinking about?"

-"That we'll have to go back to the Devildom tomorrow. How am I s'posed to accept that after today? Today was too good to end like that, ya know?"

-Yuki hummed in agreement. Zie briefly looked away as a thoughtful expression morphed zir features. "Well," zie started, zir eyes focused back on Mammon, "I couldn't afford to stay for more than one night. My birthday is just a few months away, so maybe you could plan something for us, like when you rented the pool."

-Mammon felt a pang of short-lived guilt for complaining. Yuki had worked hard to save enough money to rent this cabin, even with Diavolo hooking zir up months in advance. "I still can't believe ya didn't just tell me. I was actually..."

-"Worried you did something? Sorry, Mammon. I should have said something, but I was nervous that I couldn't keep it a secret. I was too excited to not tell you, but then the jobs piled up and I promised to help Diavolo in exchange for talking the price down with the owner. I shouldn't have ignored you though. I'm sorry."

-There was a lull in their conversation, but it was only a slightly weighted silence. The misunderstandings were cleared up and today was one of the best days Mammon had ever had, spending it alone with Yuki. He would have enjoyed it even if it hadn't been his birthday and with Yuki pampering him all day.

-"C'mere," Mammon said as he placed a warm hand against the back of Yuki's neck, pulling zir down for a kiss. "You're goin' to have to take responsibility for my feelings. You're the reason I was stressin' out. The whole time you were busy workin' your ass off for this trip, I was thinkin' of you. As your first, I'm entitled to know what you're doin'. I'm gonna get my fill of ya tonight before we have to head home. I've got weeks worth to get outta ya."

-Yuki's cheeks heated as Mammon greedily kissed zir lips. Zie silently agreed that zie wanted to get the most out of Mammon while they were still alone, but one night of trying to cram almost a month and a half of time lost wasn't possible.

-"Your lips are warm," Mammon murmured as they separated. "That wasn't nearly enough to satisfy me though. I wanna show ya how much I appreciate you."

-"What, uh, what do you wanna do?"

-"Right now? Nothin'. Bein' with ya like this is enough for the moment. I love you, Yuki."

-An explosion of emotions surged through Yuki's chest to the rest of zir body, making zir giddy with adoration. Zie wasn't sure how zie was containing it, but staring down into Mammon's eyes, seeing his tinted cheeks, and him just relaxing with zir simultaneously fueled zir feelings more while also grounding zir.

-"I love you, too, Mammon."

#i didn't spite write a 4000k fic for Mammon's bday in two days or spent half a day editing it after posting it #nor am i disgusted with how i feel like i didn't write Mammon properly despite constantly checking screenshots and similar moments in-game #nor am i debating adding the smut back in because i wrote it poorly #couldn't be me #mammon deserves better regardless of canon or fanon content ugh #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x mc #jess writes

[yoonjinkooked]

CHEMISTRY | Run (2)

PART 2 - RUN

SERIES MASTERLIST

DRABBLE SERIES, TONS OF SHORT LITTLE CHAPTERS. WILL BE UPDATED OFTEN CAUSE HOSEOK IS THE #1 SOURCE OF MY PAIN

Pairing: Hoseok / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: FWB, university AU

Warnings: cursing, avoiding emotions and responsibility, future smut, Hoseok just makes a cameo in this one

Word count for this part: 2K

Summary: After a few years of being immune to Jung Hoseok’s charms, you suddenly fall into them, head first. All it takes is one night, too much alcohol and a lot of balls.

“Rise and shine, you drunk idiot,” are the words with which Seokjin greets you. The massive headache that you are suffering makes his voice sound 20 times louder than it really is, which is not your favorite way of starting hangover Sundays. Despite knowing that he won’t be deterred from waking you up, you still keep your eyes closed, hoping that today is a day of miracles and Seokjin decides to give you a break. He doesn’t - instead he grabs a hold of the ankle of your left foot and starts shaking it left to right, trying to shake you awake. “Come on, you’ve been out the whole day, I was scared you were dead. Get your ass up, take an aspirin and be an adult.”

“That sounds like a plan,” your voice is worn out, a tell-tale sign that you had spent last night yelling into someone’s ear. “God, why did you let me drink this much? You should have forced water down my throat,” you grunt as you struggle to get yourself into a seated position - you don’t fall back and the room is not spinning. So far, so good. 

“Oh, I was planning on doing that,” Seokjin grins down at you, not looking the least bit hungover - genes, he’d tell you with a proud look on his face. “But by the time I returned from the kitchen, you already had Hoseok’s tongue down your throat.”

And then, you remember. Boy oh boy, do you remember. Seokjin laughs at you, amused by your expression as realization sets in. You’ve hooked up with Hoseok. You’ve made out with Hoseok. And you did, in fact, sit on his dick, just like you’ve wanted to. Luckily for you, you were both fully clothed. Seriously, lucky you - if you remember anything in detail, it’s that you weren’t alone. 

“Everyone saw us last night, didn’t they?” you ask, sighing when Seokjin nods immediately. 

“Everyone. I mean, you were hardly being shy about it, jumping his bones in the middle of the living room,” Seokjin reminds you how straightforward, perhaps even pushy, you were with Hoseok. Both before and after the kissing had started. “For what it’s worth, he wasn’t complaining.”

“I have no idea what had gotten into me,” you admit, trying to recall when, if ever, you’ve thought of Hoseok as more than a friend. And you did not - he was always a friend, that good looking friend that you wouldn’t even consider as a possible hook up option. Your brain had short-circuited last night, and although surprising, it isn’t completely unfounded. 

“Well, Hoseok did not, I can assure you,” Seokjin is laughing his ass, his expression softening a bit when he notices just how uncomfortable you are with his teasing. “Come on Y/N, don’t overthink this. You’re both single and hot. You were horny and he was stoned and happy to help. Making out with him once won’t change your friendship, if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

“Yeah, in theory,” you mumble, knowing already that the next time you see Hoseok, you will feel very awkward. Maybe he won’t and that saves the day? It’s a possibility, but you’re not almighty and situations like these tend to turn you into an awkward mess of a person. 

“You’ve made out with Jimin before and you’re still close,” Seokjin shrugs. 

“Yeah, but that’s different. That’s Jimin. We did it jokingly, more than anything else,” you shake your head, knowing, remembering  that whatever last night was, it was different. “I have no clue what happened. One second he was there, dancing, minding his own business and the next I just… had this strong urge to kiss him.”

“Well, at least you’re a go-getter,” Seokjin laughs at your glare, still refusing to accept this as a possible issue in the making. “Come on, I didn’t walk all the way to your place for therapy hour. You’re nursing a hangover and we need coffee. When you have enough caffeine in your system, you’ll remember that Hobi is the chillest guy on the planet and that your worries are completely baseless. It can be awkward for a week or two but you’re both grown adults, right?”

“Right,” you agree, choosing to hold onto that thought. You’re not kids or horny teens - it’ll be okay. A few inside jokes, a couple of days of awkwardness and a lifetime of teasing from your mutual friends - nothing you can’t handle. No harm, no foul. It’ll all be hilarious in a week or two. 

“You’re acting weird,” Jungkook’s statement makes you freeze, the breakfast burrito in your hands inches away from your mouth. After years of being friends with him, it shouldn’t be a surprise when Jungkook says the most random things at the most random times, but somehow, it still is. 

“No, I’m not,” you deny. 

“You are,” Jungkook nods, as if he is confirming it with himself. “You’re all jumpy. If I didn’t know you any better, I’d think you’re on the run from the law,” he laughs at his own joke, before suddenly stopping to fix you with a suspicious look. “You’re not on the run, right?” 

“No Jungkook, I’m not hiding from the cops. I’m not even halfway through my first coffee.”

“She’s just hiding from Hobi.”

You glare at Namjoon from across the table. First of all, his assumption is rude. Second of all, it is absolutely correct. Well, you weren’t exactly actively avoiding Hoseok, but you also weren’t volunteering to spend time at places where you knew he’d be. Instead, you have spent the past few days occupying yourself with random and not so random tasks and obligations, all while trying not to think about how he’s a good kisser. Or how good he smells. Or how firmly his hands gripped your waist that night. Nope. Not going to think about it. 

“Why would she hide from Hobi?” Jungkook is confused. 

“I’m not hiding from Hobi,” you tell him, before turning to give Namjoon a pointed look. “I’m not hiding from Hobi,” you repeat in a warning tone - it’s clear that you don’t want to talk about it. 

“Perfect,” Namjoon offers you an angelic smile. “Then you won’t have a problem with him joining us? I mean, he’s already walking our way,” he adds, looking over your shoulder. 

Your knee jerk reaction is very literal - a sudden movement leads to a loud bang, a whine and you clutching onto your right knee that you’ve just hit against the table in a lame attempt of making a run for it. Panicked, you turn around to check if Hoseok had seen this, only to realize that he is nowhere to be seen. The shit eating grin on Namjoon’s face when you look back at him is confirmation enough. “I hate you,” you deadpan as he keeps on laughing at you. 

“Why are you like this,” Jungkook asks you as you rub your knee, still very much in pain. “Is it because you made out last weekend?” he interrogates you before chugging on his yogurt. 

“Maybe,” you reluctantly admit, since you were so obvious there was no use in denying it. “I know it doesn’t make much sense but it’s just… weird.” 

“You’re being overdramatic, as usual,” Namjoon chuckles. In moments like these, you wonder why you’re still friends with the guy. Sure, he can be charming, nice and helpful, but he can also be a smartass and act all high and mighty, just like he is doing now. “Not that you would know, since you’re hiding from the guy, but Hoseok is not avoiding you. The situation isn’t weird - you are.” 

“If I wanted therapy, I’d pay for a professional,” you snap. 

“I’m on Y/N’s side here,” Jungkook pauses to swallow his food before continuing. “We can tease and joke, we always do that but we shouldn’t invalidate her feelings. If she is feeling awkward, she has every right to feel that way. Don’t invalidate her feelings, Joon,” he ends his speech with a little worried pout, making himself look at least 5 years younger. 

“Have you been watching Dr. Phil again?” Namjoon asks him. 

“Hey!” you jump in Jungkook’s defense immediately. “Don’t be an ass - he has a point and he is being nice. I didn’t ask for your opinion, which you generously offered anyways. Hoseok’s feelings about this have no affect on me - I’m feeling awkward and I’d rather push said awkwardness under the rug for the time being.” 

“Unlike Mr. Smarty Pants Architect who actually does watch Dr. Phil, I’m the only psych major sitting at this table,” Jungkook starts and you laugh at the not so subtle drag directed at Joon. “It’s my duty as your friend and a future therapist to say that the tactic you’re turning to is not healthy and will likely cause more trouble. But,” he emphasizes, noticing that you have already opened your mouth to complain. “It’s your choice. You know what you’re doing and why you’re doing it.”

“Oh, so you’re saying that her acting like the two of them have divorced after 20 years of marriage instead of… exchanging saliva is valid?”

“Stop!” you glare at Namjoon. “You’ve heard Jungkook – my feelings are valid.”

“You’re a coward and you know it,” Namjoon laughs at you. He’s not completely wrong – you are a coward, but you also have your reasons. “You were making out – it’s not the end of the world.” 

“Yes, but it’s not a random dude we’re talking about here!  It’s... Hoseok!” you whisper his name, as if someone other than the two of them could actually hear you say his name in the crowded and incredibly noisy university cafeteria. 

“All the more,” Joon widens his arms in exasperation. “Hobi is not an ass. He’s not going to make it worse, he’ll probably laugh about it, but seeing as you’ve been playing hide and seek, you won’t have a chance to. The longer you wait, the harder it will be once you can no longer avoid him. And honestly, the time is around the corner because I have no idea how you plan on skipping Yoongi’s birthday party.”

As if you needed a reminder of that. There is no way in hell that you can make up an excuse big enough to avoid going to Yoongi’s party - a family emergency wouldn’t work, not when this is your closest group of friends. You’ll have to be there, Hoseok will absolutely be there and you have three whole days to get your shit together. 

“I’ll do my shit at my own time,” you conclude proudly, knowing that you will figure it out and it won’t be because of Namjoon’s impromptu intervention. 

“Um… Y/N,” Jungkook lets out a nervous laughter. “I’m not so sure about that. Hobi’s walking towards us, right now.”

“I’m not falling for that again,” you wave your hand in dismissal, the pain that you are still feeling in your right knee reminding you of Joon’s failed attempts to trick you. 

“He’s really not lying,” Namjoon sips on his coffee sassily, the slurping sound coming from his straw making you want to throw something at him. But there’s something about the cocky look on his face that makes you realize that he’s not joking this time. Not to mention that Jungkook, unlike Joon, is an actual sweetheart of a person who would not lie to you just to spite you. Gulping, you decide to risk and check. 

And sure enough, as you turn around you can see Hoseok just a few tables away, smiling at the three of you – ripped jeans, white shirt, green snapback and that stupid, blinding smile. For a second, only for a second, your eyes meet and before either one of you can make a face or react in any way, you are standing up and this time around, your knees are safe. 

“I have to go,” you grab your bag and phone and speed walk before anyone can tell you anything. You can hear Jungkook yell after you, but you’re already a few tables away from them, walking towards safety as fast as you can. 

Was it stupid? Yeah, probably. Was it obvious? Painfully. But fight or flight kicked in and up up and away you went. 

#jhope smut #hoseok smut #jhope fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jhope drabble #hoseok drabble #bts au #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenario #hoseok fwb #hobi fwb #hobi smut #jhope scenarios #jhope au #hoseok x reader #hoseok x oc

[unmaskedagain]

Day and Night

Okay I got this prompt and as soon as I saw it, I knew I had to write. I’m a huge Tim Drake fan. Its how I got into reading Batfamily fanfiction. I love Marinette. So I thought I’d give it a shot.

           The café was small, empty, in a little nowhere town that had the unfortunate luck of being built in the middle of nowhere; somewhere in a part of England most people never heard of. The café, and the town, wasn’t the type of place you went searching for. Anyone who ended up there, that didn’t already live there, always happened upon it be accident. Usually because they were lost.

           The two sole customers in café were most definitely lost. A boy and a girl.

           The boy-The young man had dark hair, the iciest blue you could imagine, and a broken look on his handsome face. He sat near the window, on one side of the café, watching the rain poor down. He looked tired, forgotten, and lonely. His name was Tim.

           The girl- A teenage girl, still growing into herself, had blue-ish black hair and the deepest, brightest blue eyes imaginable. She said on the other side of the café. A solemn expression on her lovely face. Her eyes sad, and just a bit red. Exhaustion seemed to have set in her bones, and held herself in way soldier who just came home from war did. She was jumpy, scared, and above all looked absolutely heartbroken. Her name was Marinette.

           He was from Gotham. She was from Paris. And at that moment, there were no two more lost souls in the world.

           The café owner was a kind elderly woman who had taken her tea in back to account inventory; she hadn’t seen any harm in leaving the two kids by themselves for a bit.

           Tim had gotten to the café first, and had known the moment the girl had entered.

           Marinette noticed the boy sitting, alone, in the quiet café as soon as she walk inside.

           Neither had talked to each other. They hadn’t had the energy that day to feign niceties. However, as the rain came down harder, the lights flickered, and Billie Holiday’s Good Morning Heartache played its sweet melody… Something just came over the two.

“Running away,” Marinette asked loud enough so the boy across the café could hear her. He couldn’t have been much older than her, she noticed.

           Tim gave her a small bitter smile, “Is it really running away if you don’t have a home to run from? Or if no one cares or notices you’re gone.” He closed his eyes for a moment as wave of emotion hit him. “When does it stop being running away, and starts just being leaving? What about you?”

“I think I’m doing both,” Marinette answered honestly. Her throat dry, and tears burning in her eyes. “Running away from everything, and still doing the right thing by leaving a bad situation.”

           Tim nodded. He was in the same boat. “Where you coming from?” Though he figured France from her accent.

“Paris. And you?”

“Gotham.”

“No one waiting for you?” Marinette asked. He shook his head. “Me either. Aren’t we a pair?”

           It went quiet. Billie Holiday still filling the silence.

“I lost all my friends to a liar,” Marinette said. “My partner, uh, teammate was five seconds from having sexual harassment charges filed against him. He got… fired. Now I have to do everything by myself.” If Tim noticed her slip, he didn’t say anything. My parents don’t trust me.” She failed to stop Hawkmoth again and again. She failed to keep her friends from falling into Lila’s clutches. She failed her parents with all her lies and excuses of where she was going and where’s been to the point where they couldn’t deal with it. Too scared and weary of what the daughter they no longer recognized had become. They asked her to leave; move out. Then it was Official Marinette had no one. Marinette was lucky her grandma had apartment in the city she never used. Or she’d have been homeless.

           Tim did notice though. “I thought… I thought I belonged somewhere I didn’t. Thought I had found a family; a real family like I always wanted. Turned out I wasn’t wanted. I was a just a placeholder. Not a brother. Or a son.” He had nearly died several times, had lost his spine literally, broke through time, fought aliens and world conquerors, rescued batman from the time stream; dome more than humanly possible. But it hadn’t been enough. Or maybe it hadn’t meant anything to the Bats. A part of him had it all to prove he belonged, that he earned the cowl; that just because Batman hadn’t picked him like had his other Robins, but just let him stay, hadn’t meant anything. But it did. And Tim knew the truth the world had been trying to get him to see. He was just pretending; pretending to belong to and with the Batfamily, pretending he had been a good Robin, pretending they had wanted him.

“I’m a failure,” The bluenette said.

“I’m a pretender,” Tim shrugged. “Name’s Tim though.”

“Marinette.”

           She got up and walked across the café and sat in the seat across from Tim. “My friends tossed me aside from something shiny and new. I’m been thrown away.”

           Time gave her a nod “The people I thought were my family don’t care that I haven’t been to the manor in almost two years. Or didn’t realize. I’ve been forgotten.”

“Been there.”

           Tim leaned forward in his seat, “I make one mistake. And B acts like I tried to end the world. I was rash. I acted out. I made a mistake. I’m human. It doesn’t even matter that I fixed it. He just refused to let it go.” Captain Boomerang killed his father. Tim had wanted to make him pay. It’s not like pointed a gun at villain. He just set the bastard up in a way he couldn’t walk away from. “He never listens to me. I get it, though. I wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want another son. He didn’t choose me.” Tim blinked hard, his fist clenching. “No one ever chooses me.”

“Everything I do has to be perfect,” Marinette whispered. “I can’t mess up. I can’t make mistakes. I have to stay in control at all times. Not like everyone else. I don’t get to be human. I have to be more. I have to be better. I have to be an example,” She hissed the word. “The world’s burning but I still have to be perfect. I still have to be strong and righteous and good. I have to take the high road.” She closed her eyes. “When all I want to do is scream. I have defend the world when no one even bothers to defend me.”

           Ilene Woods’ So This Is Love started playing. They listened to the song play, a weight off their shoulders left. Not all of it but some. And at that moment the ridiculousness of their situation hit; they had left their countries, ended up god knows where, stuck in a café to avoid the rain, and were complaining to a perfect stranger about how horrible their lives had been as of late. And they laughed. And laughed until it hurt.

“Why we do put up with it?”  Marinette leaned back in her seat. “I mean, I know why. But really. Why?

           Tim shrugged, a smile still on his face. We know why. We’re doormats.”

           Marinette nodded, “They only want us when they want something. That’s the only time we matter.”’ She looked up, right into his eyes. “But that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Because we can’t take it anymore.”

“And we know we shouldn’t,” He nodded firmly. “Because we shouldn’t and we’re not.”

“Never again,” Marinette swore. And then stood up. “Pardon, I must use the restroom.”

           Then she left. As soon as she was gone, Tim pulled out his phone and looking up any superhero activity happening in Paris. There was a lot. Mostly about a hero named Ladybug, who loved more than just a bit like his new friend.

           Marinette, on the other hand, left to Speak with Tikki and Plagg who had fighting to get her attention. As soon as she was alone in the bathroom, Plagg stated, “Him! I wanted him. He’s my new Kitty!”

“I like him too,” Marinette said softly.

           They convinced Marinette that Tim would be a good hero; and she needed help.

           When Marinette rejoined the table, neither said a word. They went back to telling each other a bit more about their sorrows and heartaches until a relative peace settled between the two. Feeling freer than they had in months.

           Marinette drank her, now, cold tea. She placed down the cup, “So Tim, any plans on going back to Gotham. Cause if not, I’d like to make you an offer?”

           Tim smirked, the thrill of a potential adventure hitting him, “Is Marinette asking me? Or is Ladybug? For the record, it’s a yes either way.”

           Marinette smiled, glad that her new partner was seemed to have high intelligence. “How do you feel about Paris?”

“Love it,” Tim stood up. “I get to design my own look though. Unlike you, I don’t look good in skintight anything.”

“Oh I don’t know about that…” She teased her blue eyes sparkling. “That might be something we’ll have to find out.”

           The young man held a hand out, “Care to dance?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” The young woman said as took his hand in hers.

           They swayed to the music, laughing and twirling around. An elderly woman watched as once again her café worked its magic like it did for every lost soul that wandered in.

           Louis Armstrong’s What a Wonderful World started to play in the background as icy-blue eyes met bright blue. The rain slowly stopped as two lost souls, alone in the world, found each other.

I see skies of blue and clouds of white

The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night

And I think to myself what a wonderful world…

#ml salt #ml fic #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better #tim drake deserves better #Tim Drake #adrien salt

[juyeoniemyhoney]

things she’ll never know

When you love someone, the most important thing that you should not do is introduce them to their crush and help them get along. Yoongi knows this because he has learned the hard way. Because truly, introducing you to Jungkook has got to be his biggest mistake ever and once things for you and Jungkook start to escalate into more than a friendship, Yoongi knows he fucked up. 

-pairing: min yoongi x reader (feat. jungkook)

-genre: angst yo 

-warnings: none really, this may be a little stupid

-word count: 2408 words

-A/N: what upppp. back with a little yoongi angst. i hope you guys like it! don’t be shy to request some ideas you’d like me to write! i like live to please people and coming up with plots or scenarios are like super hard for me for some reason. also don’t be afraid to tell me your thoughts on this one! it really, really helps me to improve and write better! 

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It is without a doubt that everything you do has no reason. Like literally everything you are pursuing has in some way or another been forced onto you. You did not sign up for school, no. Your mother had just dressed you up in a school uniform one day when you were six and left you in a school full of strangers and other tiny people. So naturally, after being forced into things your whole life, you have developed a hate for almost everything. 

But nothing you have gone through can quite prepare you for the shit that you have to endure today. 

Today, instead of having an engaging discussion about life during homeroom like you usually do, your classmates are scattered around the classroom, cleaning every single nook and cranny until it is basically shining. All the while, the teacher screams at a group of friends who childishly throw rubbish and spray water at each other as a means to make this laborious task at least a little bit more fun than it actually is. 

After every semester, your school deems it necessary for the students to conduct a “spring cleaning” activity. As a result, your fun homeroom sessions are replaced with an hour of cleaning; beneficial for the janitors who work at your school, but nonetheless a drab and boring activity. 

“This is so boring,” you sigh, verbalising your thoughts to Yoongi, who is silently wiping a window pane beside you. Yoongi remains silent and just nods, lips set in a firm line but expression gentle. At his silent response, you cannot help but allow a smile to bloom on your lips at his extremely Yoongi-esque answer. 

Yoongi, your best friend, is an attractive, raven haired boy of little words. He has been by your side for as long as you can remember; since you had moved in beside him. He had come up to you, shy, tiny and chubby, asking you to help him tie his shoelaces. Since then, the two of you have been inseparable and you basically tell him everything. And because Yoongi is such a good friend, the moment you told him that you found Jungkook, a fellow classmate, attractive, Yoongi had taken it upon himself to — unlike his introverted nature — befriend him. 

Which brings us to today, almost a year after Jungkook was included into your list of friends. The three of you had grown quite close in the past year. But don’t be mistaken, it took you almost three months to warm up to him, far too shy to even look him in the eyes. But with insistent prompting from Yoongi and an insane amount of coincidental occurrences, obviously articulately orchestrated by Yoongi, you eventually came round and began to talk comfortably with Jungkook. 

“Yoongi,” you call him, reaching up to his sleeve to tug on it gently. The action causes Yoongi’s heart to swell and his chest strains painfully with the inability to house the sheer amount of adoration he feels for you. Yoongi hums in response, too lost at the sight of you to process words.

“Make this more fun,” you command, frown drawing your brows together, lips turned down at the corners in a pout. Yoongi’s heart falters at the sight. 

Years ago, when you and Yoongi were four years old, only a few days after he met you, he already knew that he was going to marry you. You had run up to him in the playground, attacking him with a bear hug, surprising him by muttering a soft and shy, I love you as you tucked your face into his neck. Yoongi has never been the same since.

That moment has been replaying itself in his head, a constant reminder that his immediate thought after you had embraced him was that he never wanted you to let go. He has only fallen harder for you since; for your magnetic personality and your laugh and your smile that seems to shine so brightly that it is as if the sun had decided to bury itself in your very being. 

His unadulterated attraction to even just the thought of you only seemed to strengthen that fateful night, consisting of powerful torrents of rain and a sole umbrella. That night, (despite being under the legal drinking age) you were drunk out of your mind, arm slung around Yoongi’s shoulder and legs tripping over each other clumsily. The two of you had awkwardly, yet silently, stumbled into your room, Yoongi groaning with exertion and exhaustion after having to haul you all the way back to your house from the party that celebrated your school’s volleyball team’s win. As soon as your head had hit your pillow, lightning flashed as if the sky was snapping a picture of that moment, granting Yoongi sight of you. Love surged through him at the sight, your eyes barely open and glazed over in exhaustion. 

“It’s raining,” you had observed from the window behind Yoongi. Yoongi, too distracted by the look of pure merriment swirling in your brown eyes that shone like the moon, could only a whisper an aloof answer. You’ve always liked rain. 

He was spiralling down a tangent of doubtful supposition, trying to decide if he should just kiss you right then and there, if it would still ruin your friendship even if there was a high possibility that the whole night would excuse itself from your memory in the morning. Yoongi immediately dispelled the horrifying thought from his brain, barely registering that you had gotten up and had started to rummage about your things. 

“You should take this umbrella,” you slurred, turning back around to look at Yoongi. You stumbled clumsily towards him, as if you were a baby learning to walk. Just as you were about to hand Yoongi the umbrella, a wire had caught your foot, pulling taut and tripping you. You had stumbled forward in an attempt to find your balance, but once you realised that it would not be possible, you had tried to catch yourself on Yoongi instead, but your lack of sobriety had also meant the deduction of your depth perception, causing you to completely miss his shoulders. 

All too suddenly, Yoongi found himself on your bed, on his back, tasting alcohol on your lips. Yoongi’s brain had ceased regular function at that point and instead of pulling away, instead of pushing you off him, instead of something, he found himself kissing you. And for the shortest of seconds, you were kissing him back. He seemed to have fallen from reality and landed in an alternate universe; where you are his, and you are okay with being his. Your lips felt surreal and warm, so, so warm and he didn’t want to ever stop kissing you. But then Yoongi felt your tongue at the seam of his lips, and he was dragged out of his trance by the ankles and jolting away from you as if you were a live wire. 

“Why...?” you had questioned, earnest eyes gazing down at him, searching for eye contact but Yoongi had refused it, eyes landing on everything except yours. And too fast for Yoongi to even process himself, he was snatching the umbrella from your hands, pushing you off him as gently as he could in his haste, and practically sprinting out of your bedroom, in search of refuge that only his own could offer.

When Yoongi thinks back to that incident, he always beats himself up for dashing out of there before ensuring that you were okay first. He had let his feelings control him and didn’t even stop to think that he should have probably sobered you up first before leaving. But it is far too late to regret and that incident now serves as one of Yoongi’s milestones, the one that had caused his feelings for you to grow exponentially, the kiss that you cannot even remember. 

“How about we play tag? If I touch you with this rag, I win. If you manage to evade me for the rest of the period, you win. Winner gets a whole tub of ice cream,” Yoongi suggests, finally snapping out of his trance. 

“That hardly seems far,” you complain with a slap to his bicep. It causes Yoongi to flinch and you let out a melodious chuckle at his reaction. Yoongi’s heart dances to the tune. 

“Fine then, be bored,” is Yoongi’s snarky reply. He lets out a sigh in faux disappointment and turns back to the window to continue his interrupted wiping. Though, his expression immediately brightens when you protest to your teasing gone wrong. Flowers bloom in Yoongi’s chest and he feels a strong urge to hug you; to wrap you up in his arms, hidden away from the world in his warmth. Yoongi has to quite literally hold himself back to not act on the urge.

And so begins the game of tag. If Yoongi were to be entirely honest, he hates physical activity, of every and any sort. Which is why he has no idea why he had suggested to play tag in the first place. If he were to be even more honest, even if he hates running, he is sure that if he were playing seriously, the game would end in the matter of seconds. So, he chases you with restraint and pretends to take breaks in between the chasing. And if he ever came close to tagging you, he would shorten his reach so that the rag would miss you by a hair. It is just, Yoongi is high on the sound of your mirthful giggling, not wanting it to stop for even just a second. Not when the sound makes him so happy that he feels as if his whole body is levitating. 

Yoongi chases you all around the classroom, the two of you blatantly ignoring your teacher’s nagging. As the period comes to an end, Yoongi quickens his speed, just refusing to lose to you after realising how much you would tease him if he did. Now at the front of the classroom, Yoongi finds himself far behind you, struggling to catch up. 

Everything that happens next seems to happen in slow-motion for Yoongi.

As you glance over your shoulder to gauge where Yoongi is, you accidentally ram into someone. More specifically, you run right into Jungkook. You let out a surprised squeal when your head hits his chest and Jungkook wraps his arms around you in instinct, letting out his own sound of surprise. Yoongi’s heart, at the sight, sinks right into his gut, as if it were in quicksand. Jungkook’s expression of surprise morphs into an endearing smile and he relaxes and hugs you comfortably, arms around your shoulders and chin resting gingerly on top of your head. 

Jungkook’s scent and warmth send you into a state of delirium. Your cheeks burn red in embarrassment when he starts stroking your hair, gently combing his fingers through the thick locks. Your classmates do not care, in fact you do not think they even notice the intimate moment the two fo you are having now. It is as if the world has vanished and it is just you and Jungkook, and no one else to disturb you. In Jungkook’s arms, everything feels right, like not a thing in the world is wrong, and maybe, it is here, in his arms, that you belong. As cringe-worthy as it sounds, your ears tune out all of your surroundings and only seem to be able to focus on the rhythmic beating of Jungkook’s heart. And when your arms come up around him to circle around his waist, the pace of his heart increases and you finally know that you are not the only one who is feeling things. 

Yoongi, on the other hand, is absolutely livid, irises flaring red as he looks at the two of you hugging so dearly, so natural that it is as if you two have been hugging for years. One side of Yoongi, the selfish side, wants to rip you from Jungkook’s arms and claim you as his, as if he is the hound of hades, guarding the gates of the world the two of you have built together, preventing Jungkook from ever entering your world and snatching you away. But the other side of Yoongi, the one that grounds himself to reality should his love for you cause him to do utterly idiotic things, tells him to come to terms with the fact that you will never be involved with him romantically, tells him to just let you go, tells him to deal with his own idiotic actions. Because truly, introducing you to Jungkook is, and will forever be his biggest regret. But at the same time, how could he not? When you had gazed up at him with mirth-filled eyes, smile shining brighter than any star to exist in the cosmos. How could he not when he could basically feel your voice worm its way into his chest, festering something so captivating that he could not help but do something, anything to hear that tone in your voice again and feel the flowers bloom in his heart, a sweet, summer warmth melting him like candle wax. How could he rob you, the one person he has loved with all his heart, mind and soul of your happiness?

The answer is that he cannot. 

So, instead of socking Jungkook in the face, instead of tearing you from Jungkook’s arms and kissing you with passionate ferocity, Yoongi circles your hugging bodies so that you can see him, gently tapping you to get your attention. Your head pops out from Jungkook’s chest and you look at Yoongi over his shoulder. When your eyes lock, your arms still around Jungkook and Jungkook’s arms still around you, he whispers as softly as he can so that you cannot hear the cracking of his heart in his voice. And despite the excruciating amount of pain he is feeling in this moment, Yoongi manages to proffer you a small smile. 

“You win.”

His words refer to a plethora of things; his heart, his life, this one-sided game he has been playing. And then, before you can question anything, he leaves you to deliberate what on earth those two words should signify other than that game of tag that just decided Yoongi’s and your destiny. 

Because did you actually win or did you just lose everything?

#min yoongi #suga #yoongi #angst #yoongi angst #bts #bts imagines #yoongi imagines #suga imagines #suga fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #yoongi au #suga au #yoongi scenarios #suga scenarios #fanfiction #bts scenarios #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi x y/n

[dragonagecompanions]

hi there, so in love with your works. Seriously *bows head* thank you all so much. If its not too bad, I wanted to know how everyone in DAI from the advisors to the companions would react to a teen inquisitor who is brilliant at cooking? Yet the inquisitor has no idea about people from Leliana's agents to everyone else pinching her food.

Cassandra: She thinks she is being sneaky and subtle, insisting that because of their age and responsibility it is better for their young herald to stay close to camp and not take a watch when they leave Skyhold. There will be time for that when they are older, and bearless of a burden. If they will take on the difficulty of closing the rifts, then the most they should have to do is help around the camp, and after a long day nothing is appreciated more than hot food.

No one contradicts her, and the Seeker is left to silently congratulate herself on enjoying the absolutely divine way that their young leader has with rabbit and Hinterland herbs without making the Inquisitor feel worthless.

(And if everyone else lets her take a lead on that because she has mattered the speech, well...it’s really good stew.)

Varric: Damn, this is the stuff. Its like being back in the Hanged Man, except the bread is trying to actively strange him, and the pies aren’t staring back and.. 

It’s nothing like the Hanged Man, really, but the sheer comfort of phenomenal food at the end of the world? The same kind of warmth as sitting with your friends as the city goes to shit and laughing at a joke no one else gets. Their young protagonist has a good skill set on their hands, and If Varric’s writing table moves a little closer to the door into the kitchens, well.

Keeps the ink from freezing.

Solas: It had been a passing comment about the frilly cakes in Val Royeaux,  some exchange of banter with Varric about time passing and philosophy and the unending banal that one takes on to keep the miles from turning monotonous. He’d had no idea the Herald was listening, and so it makes it all the more touching when- after waqving to them as they take on the climb to the library- he comes down from his painter’s perch to find three petit fours waiting for him on his table. 

It drives home that they are a thoughtful young person, so different from the rest of this world, and if he uses the sweetness of the frosting and cake to drive away the twinge of guilt that his plans still move at speed....it does not take away from their talent, or their kindness. He will be content with that.

Blackwall: Food is food, particularly on the road. Hard tack and sausage has kept many a soldier alive, and he is the last person you’d hear complaining that he can’t put his pinky out eating meat from a spit. Luxury is for soft handed nobles, not men and women striving to make the world better. Let them have the best cuts-- Blackwall would starve before he robs true heroes of a hot meal.

And yet the first time he comes back from gathering firewood to find that the reason the inquisitor was tying so much string around the side of a wild hog was to make a porketta, and he got a good whiff of roasted pork slowly spinning in it’s own drippings....It would be a harder sacrifice. It made the Inquisitor so happy to watch their work be enjoyed and help people though, that it would the crueler not to take some. 

And if he dreams about the tender meat and crispy skin all perfectly seasoned and roasted for days afterwords, that’s no one’s business of his own. 

Vivienne: She cuts an imposing figure, and for the Madame de Fer is quite proud. It has cowed more than one recalcitrant novice into place with only a long legged stride alone, and for that she is a legend in her circle. Of course the stories do not tell how she would never be cruel or unfeeling to a child, and particularly not one far from home and frightened of every shadow like the ones that the Templars rip from families and depost in a new and strange place.

She expects a similar attitude from the young Herald, particularly after her (rahter stunning) entrance on their first meeting. And perhaps they were a bit overawed, but before it could become something she needs to address Lady Vivienne is pleasantly surprised to find their young leader coming to her for advice from a letter from some minor Orlesian lord. And while surely it will be up to Josephine to craft the response Vivienne is delighted that the Inquisitor wants her input.

That they went to the effort to bring beignet’s with them as a bribe...For that, she will give them every secret of the author’s well kept family scandals. 

Sera: Their Bitty Herald can make cookies better than Sera can make cookies, but they aren’t the kind that you throw at people as a prank or that come out all rock hard and brown and blegh. They are the soft gooey kind that make you want to steal the whole plate and eat them on your roof but also throw the plate at their Quizznitor because....because cookies!

She will trade pranks for cookies, who ever her Jenny in training wants to see doused in water or flour or...or...pudding! Pudding for cookies is the most fair.

Dorian: Southern food is bland and tasteless, and Skyhold’s resident ‘Vint will endure it for as long as he must to help defeat this ancient magister and get things on the right track. And the beer isn’t the worst, much to his own dismay as his delicate palette accepts the swill. But the food is all friend or brown or smothered in gravy, and he’d just as soon not.

So when they finally stop for the night under the endless web of branches that keep the sky from meeting the Fallow Mire, the pond water full of dead people sounds more appealing than one more night of Varric’s nug stew. Which makes the fact their valiant young Herald just ladled him a bowl of Minestrone so much more impressive. Their shrugged explanation of ‘I’ve always wanted to make it and the merchants had actual artichokes on the way here and you can tell me if I got it right’ does nothing to take away the warmth and delight the gesture brings to him. 

It would be like coming home, if anyone had ever made sucha rustic and delightful soup for him without strings and hooks attached in Tevinter, and for the first time on the whole mission Dorian isn’t chilled the rest of the night. 

The Iron Bull: He isn’t sure which one of the Chargers talks to the Herald (lies, it was  Krem), but one night half the fortress is piled into the Rest and the Inquisitor is waiting with four bowls of unreadable origin. The explanation that these are four kinds of curry and each is hotter than the last is the best gift he’s ever gotten, but the wager of a single coin (he won’t steal more than that from the kid) that the Iron Bull can’t finish them for the spice is even better. 

Three hours later finds him chewing on one of Stitche’s poultices for a burnt tongue (and throat and stomach and probably ass in a few hours) but one coin richer and hoarse voiced from the roaring laughter he’d gotten after a straight face convinced Krem to try the last bown and he’d literally wept.

Good times. 

Cole: The nug is made of bread, and it isn’t a nug but it looks like one. And it’s wearing a tiny hat! ‘Roll the dough out, has to be thin so it rises to keep the shape, he likes nugs so much and doesn’t ask for anything and Sera bet me I couldn’t.’ You made it for me. Thank you! He says hello back!

Josephine: When their ambassador hears that not only does the Herald have an aunt who married into a merchant house in Antiva but the inquisitor spent a summer there and learned to make authentic Paella, Lady Montiliyet’s mind is a whirlwind of plans and thoughts of just the appropriate bribe that would spare her from getting down on her knees and begging a fifteen year old to make her favorite dish. Eventually Leliana gets tired of little doodles of steaming bowls on all their meeting notes and sends a raven  three windows over, Josie, really with an ‘anonymous’ request to make it and leave it in the war room in exchange for a trade of equal value. 

And when Josephine finds out that all the Inquisitor wants is the creepy love letters from young  Orlesian nobles to go away, she takes great delight in her strongly worded letters to their mothers in between heaping mouthfuils of white wine rice and shrimp and the warm bite of saffron that will always be home.

Leliana: It is written on no report or schedule, and her agents will go to the grave without speaking of it to another soul, but the Inquisition’s spymaster has a man in the kitchens whose only role is to fetch firewood and water and try to one day recover his shattered after a terrible mission in her service. It’s easy work for a man who gave so much, and somewhere he is able to do good work until the tremors and the nightmares stop. The kitchen staff is kind to him and treat him well, but his true mission is known only to himself and his mistress.

The second the herald starts making  Cassoulet he is to fetch her immediately. She won’t be caught in a meeting and miss her favorite food again, damn it.

Cullen: It’s hard for the Inquisitor’s commander to be at ease with someone who is both a child and at least nominally his leader. They are someone he wants to protect, but also the key to stopping the world and someone who must be on the front lines. That is gift alone to the world, but when the rumors begin to swirl that they will also go out of their way to make things that people like it brings a small smile to his face. The world would be better if had more people like the herald in it. 

Especially if they could all make little crocks of shepards pie like the one that sits on his desk after a day of long meetings and a lyrium migraine. That might make everything right again.

-- Mod Fereldone

#dragon age inquisitions #Cassandra Pentaghast #Solas #Varric Tethras #sera #dorian pavus #the iron bull #cole #blackwall #josephine montilyet #Leliana #cullen rutherford #vivienne de fer #reactions #teen inquisitor