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#breaking the food swamp

chaoticace2005 · 3 months

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Rules for the Hazbin Hotel, authored by Vaggie:

1. No drugs.

2. No fights.

3. No pranks.

4. No problematic language.

5. No murder (OR TERRITORIAL GENOCIDE WHAT THE FUCK ANGEL)

6. No smuggling in of drugs. Not by sticking them up your ass. Or by hiding them in a pizza box. Or by slingshotting them to the roof. Or getting someone else to. Not at all.

7. No sexual rendezvous with outsiders in the hotel. No SHOWING sexual rendezvous with strangers to people of the hotel either.

8. Make sure the pig/future pets stay in the patron’s room. (This includes eggs!!)

9. No singing Limit singing to once twice per day

10. Stop flirting with the bartender Angel

11. Don’t call Husk “Husker” unless he allows it.

12. No harassing the staff at all. This includes asking who tops.

13. Don’t suggest anything sexual/romantic to Alastor unless you want your head cut off.

14. NO CUTTING OFF PEOPLE’S HEADS

15. NO EATING PEOPLE

16. NO MAKING CHARLIE CRY.

17. Don’t ask me to put my spear “inside you” Angel, what the fuck?

18. Don’t turn the interior of the hotel into a swamp?! Keep it contained in your room if you must!

19. No stabbing staff or residents. No matter how much they look like bugs! (OR IF THEYRE NAME IS ANGEL)

20. Don’t try and stab bugs if they’re within 10 feet of another demon.

21. Don’t call anyone a “bitch” OR TALK ABOUT HOW MY NAME SOUNDS LIKE “VAGINA”

22. Limit Niffty’s access to sharp objects.

23. NO DEALS ALASTOR

24. No drinking. Limit drinking at bar.

25. No mentioning the Stock Market Crash of 1929. For everyone’s benefit.

26. Don’t blow a hole in the wall.

27. Try to keep roast battles OUTSIDE the hotel. (Or stop picking fights?? Please Alastor I swear to God…)

28. No spying on the hotel for outside sources or putting technology that can be used against us.

29. No evil laughing in the middle of the night, what the fuck Alastor?

30. No building weapons/war machines.

31. No eggs! (Fine the eggs can stay.)

32. Someone please keep an eye on Niffty. (And the eggs.)

33. Stop touching people ANGEL.

34. Don’t make other people storm off HUSK.

35. Respect boundaries.

36a. If Angel looks like he’s about to pass out/cry don’t comment. Let him do his thing.

36b. Don’t try to talk to Angel if he’s on the phone with Valentino. Honestly don’t even mention his phone calls with Valentino.

37. Please don’t call Lucifer “Daddy”

38. Don’t turn into a 20 foot tall demon-eating creature unless absolutely necessary.

39. Don’t cause angry loan sharks to show up at the front door.

40. NO EXPLOSIONS!

41. Rule #2, “No fights” can be broken if the person you’re fighting is Valentino. Or Adam.

42. Don’t lie to your girlfriend or hide the fact you were secretly an angel.

43. DONT TALK ABOUT PEOPLE’S TITS (or lack of)

44. KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING A BEDROOM ESPECIALLY IF SOMEONE’S HAVING MAKEUP SEX

45. Don’t give people makeovers while they’re sleeping, ANGEL!

46. Don’t pretend to eat someone’s pet, ALASTOR

47. Don’t die.

48. I never want to hear the words “cum-plete” again.

49. STOP HAVING FIGHTS ACROSS THE BUILDING LUCIFER AND ALASTOR!!

50. If Charlie is passed out on the couch LET HER SLEEP

51. No making bombs in the hotel Cherri!

52. Stop breaking rules and then saying it’s “FOR SIR PENTIOUS!”

53. Angel don’t try to shoot someone if they break spaghetti.

54. Don’t break spaghetti. Or “ruin” Italian food. Whatever the fuck that means. This apparently includes pineapple on pizza.

55. Don’t mention Valentino unless Angel brings him up first.

56. Don’t comment on Angel and Husk’s flirting.

57. Only call Angel “Anthony” if things are serious (or if you’re Husk)

58. Don’t use any of the nicknames Husk and Angel use for each other. This includes but is not limited to: “Whiskers”, “Legs”, “Kitty”, “Webs”, “Tony”, “Love”, and “Baby.”

59. It’s better not to question whatever facts Husk gives about his past.

60. Family dinners at 6 pm unless you can’t make it due to prior obligation. Game nights after on Sundays.

61. No hunting people for sport and NO KNIFE MONOPOLY.

62. Don’t attach knives to a roomba so you can have a “boyfriend” Niffty.

63. Keep Niffty away from Roombas.

64. Alastor, treat people with decency. Really, it’s not that hard.

65. No making giant ducks that breathe fire to chase people around the hotel just because they call you short.

66. Therapy. Everyone.

67. DONT HAVE SEX ON THE BAR WHAT THE FUCK GUYS?!

68. If Valentino enters the property you have permission to stab him.

69. “Hell is forever” is bullshit. You guys aren’t. You can do this.

#stupid hazbin hotel lists #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel memes #hazbin hotel vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #vaggie #angel dust hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #charlie hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #sir pentious #cherri bomb #niffty #hazbin hotel crack #chaggie #huskerdust #angelhusk

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brainrotdotorg · 4 months

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imagine a dashboard for alligators. what do you think that would look like

2 notes

🍏gatoridae Follow

Controversial opinion. If you're doing nothing but eating meat, what are you even doing. Remember to include bugs, fruits, and legumes into your diet in order to help aid digestion of the meat that you get from snakes, fish, and mammals.

Just because we have the reputation for eating lots of meat, that doesn't mean we have to stick to it.

🥒biting-you-biting-you Follow

counterpoint: fuit yucky

🪵blog-from-a-bog Follow

wdym reputation of eating meat. i float lik ea log thats what im known for

4,904 notes

🌿swamp-ass Follow

asked dad if i could go and steal some Floridian guy's lunch and he said "we have prey at home" girl we have been doing shit ALL DAY i am an awesome 600 pounds and I need some meat left on me to deathroll with. let me get a quick snack that i don't need to kill mmmmmmm burgers I want people food soooooo badddd....... i know they shouldn't feed it to me but I have such a lovely smile oh please oh please give me your burger.........

182 notes

🥗aliali-seeyoulater Follow

mom says it was cold the season she laid me so i have to be a girl. because girls are always born from eggs laid during cold seasons.

cope and seethe mother first of all, second of all, the reason i am transgender is because you kept me too fucking snuggly warm in the nest.

#i guess if you wanted a daughter you should have. idk. made a shittier nest? #thats not really my fault man

81,337 notes

⛰fuckyeahhugesnout Follow

You'll never guess how I just learned that we have the honor of being the "loudest reptiles in the world"

🫑teethem Follow

Yeah yeah, the 90 decibel mating bellow, we've all heard it.

🤢ch0mper Follow

we've all heard the what

135,633 notes

🩲gaytorrr Follow

this guy asked if i wanted to see his gator hole and i said fuck yes. why this boy take me into a 65 foot long hole in the mud at the bottom of the lake

6,421 notes

🏞daily-clawsitivity

✨Remember to take it easy sometimes!✨We thrive in slow-moving waters!✨Even though we can run fast, we get tired fast too-- it's okay to let yourself take breaks!✨Let yourself relax, that's how we made it this far as a species.

mud-rocks-deactivated20140706

Yeah, imagine telling your prehistoric great great great great great great great great great great grandpa or something to calm down and relax when he should be doing nothing but deathrolls. the longevity of the species should be your only goal. It's irresponsible to encourage your fucking species to fall behind even more than it already has? Have some pride, you're not a crocodile.

scalesssss-deactivated20150310

jesus christ calm down

alidile-crocogator-deactvated20140709

Okay, this post has a lot of misconceptions in it. There aren't as many differences between crocodiles and alligators than you think. It's really harmful to think that we have nothing in common with each other. So what if they're carnivores and we're closer to omnivores, or their snouts are more U shaped while ours are V shaped. We're both badass miracles of nature that have no reason to be pit against one another all the time.

Don't listen to guys like this. It's just hateful and small-minded.

stop-jawlock-androll-deactivated20140911

crocs are like. like them shoes that float right

wetlandia898 Follow

i wish i was a crocodile because i could have a virgin birth and i wanted to see what it would be like to eat an immaculate conception.

bigchallengesrealblog-deactivated20190412

welcome to the no notes gator/croc discourse post.

🦖l8rg8tr-z Follow

omg this is the post.... i can't believe i would see this naturally on my dash

🎍taildraggers Follow

Uh are we just going to ignore the virgin birth reply orrrrrrrrr

🐊gator-heritage-posts

gator heritage post

0 notes

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa Follow

hgwiow h

hsfhjs

howw ws i nbevyrboy tyopingssaog oo vd wi hhrth rh thrre cl alawas ?>>

🌴a-l-g-t-r Follow

lmao this idiot never learned how to use their tail to type

#/j lol yeah its kind of hard at first #actually i'd say cut your losses and forget how to type bring the laptop back to the dumpster its not worth it

39 notes

🐍bellowbellowmygoodfellow Follow

am i fucking stupid. i just learned theres another species of alligator other than just me and the guys in my swamp. and i said "oh wow I didn't know that! which one of the two are we haha" and my buddy just stared at me like I was a fucking idiot. how am i supposed to know if no one ever tells me this . WHICH AM I

🍖meet-eat3r Follow

there are only 70-80 mature chinese gators in existence while there are 750,00-1 million mature american gators . do the math.

🐍bellowbellowmygoodfellow Follow

i could have just hatched you don't know me.

20,570 notes

🍀gatortears Follow

a group of queer gators in church call that a congregaytion

#reblogging this one bc none of you appreciate me

1 notes

👞makemeintoshoesdaddy Follow

I'm seeing the no notes gator/croc post circulate again and ha ha yes it's very funny, but we are NOT starting gator/croc discourse in 2024. lets leave that shit in the past. i know that's not what the post really ended up being about but i am soooooo sick of it.

🌾clawstothewalls Follow

okay, so the one with a fetish for getting turned into handbags is gonna talk down to us now.

👞 makemeintoshoesdaddy Follow

Not to be a pedant but its Shoes Actually. It even says so in the name. Shoes.

2,663 notes

#this post was all an excuse to tell you alligator fun facts #i fucking got you dude. i got you

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ivys-garden · 21 days

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More Minecraft ideas, what part of Minecraft needs improvement?

You're wrong, it's ponds.

Ponds, lakes, lava pools. They all suck in Minecraft, they end up just being big holes in the ground with nothing interesting about them that make the landscape ugly and hole ridden

Now you might say “Ivy, literally no one cares” and to that I say, wheesht and accept my ramblings ya donut

So, how do we fix Ponds? It's simply really: make ponds generated structures.

Ponds would now be generated structures taking up one chunk, with an actual human made design to make them, you know, look good. There would be, say, 100 or so different designs to stop them looking to samey (they'd be so small that something like that would be feasible)

Lakes would be done similarly, only with the key difference, they would be made up of 4 chunk “cells”, each making up a corner of the lake.

ponds and lakes in plains or forest biomes would be made of blocks like mud and dirt.

Ponds and lakes in deserts (or oases if you want) would be made up of grass and sand

Ponds and lakes in tundras would be frozen over on the top layer of the water and with clay spawning around the water

Now, let's see some things that can be found in ponds and lakes:

Frogs

Nothing new here, frogs and frogspawn are most common ponds, pond frogs also only come in the green frog varietie.

Perhaps the oasis can have a desert rain frog variant that gives a purple frog light

Toads

Toads and toad spawn can be found in lakes and ponds in forest and plains biomes. Toads emerge from toad spawn in the same way frogs do. Toads have an exaggerated size, being double the size of the frog

Toads come in several colours (Green, Brown, Yellow, Orange and Lime) but these colours do not harbour any game mechanics (in other words: sorry but there are no toadlights)

Toads will eat all mobs with wings, that being the Parrot, Chicken, Phantom, Bat, Bee and the player if they are wearing an elytra, so watch out.

All the aforementioned mobs are scared of Toads, making them and effective deterrent to phantoms in particular

Cattails, Reeds, Rice, Algae and Papyrus

I'll just do all the plant life stuff at once (these will generate dependent on the pond or lake cell)

Algae is a new decorative blocks that can be placed on water

It will connect to other blocks, creating an unbroken surface across the water

Algae has a bright green hue and can be found in both ponds and lakes with the same frequency

Papyrus is a new plant that spawns naturally in the oasis, it is used as a more efficient way of making paper as it can be bonemealed and only one papyrus is needed to make paper

Rice is a plant that grows in water in lakes and ponds spawning in cherry groves.

Rice can be used in two recipes:

Rice Bowls:Putting rice, a bowl and any meat together will craft a rice bowl

This food source that can be eaten twice, eating the meat and then the rice

Sushi: putting rice, dried kelp and one fish into a crafting table creates Sushi, a foodsoarch that can be eaten instantly without playing the eating animation, not very nutritious but good in a pinch

Cattails are a purely decorative plant found in ponds and swamps

Reeds are more common around rivers and lakes, being a fern like plant that grows two tall.

Reeds can be used to craft a new item: Pan Pipes

Combining 3 reeds and 3 string will create pan pipes, these can be played to draw passive mobs towards you so long as the button to play them is held down.

Pan Pipes can also calm neutral mobs like wolves, iron golems and bees, but doing this instantly focus the Pan pipes into cool down

Pan pipes have a cool down double that of the Goat Horn

Bagpipes

By putting Pan Pipes, 3 iron nuggets, 3 red wool and 3 green wool together you can make Bagpipes.

Bagpipes have durability on top of having the same level of cool down as Pan Pipes. Bagpipes cannot be enchanted.

Bagpipes have the ability to PERMANENTLY pacify all hostile mobs in the chunk the player is in.

Bagpipes will break after 10 or so uses

Willow and Palm

Willow and palm are new wood types, Willow spawns around lakes and ponds and Palm spawns around oases.

Willow has a dark Bluish-green colour, complementing mangrove, where as Palm is a desaturated pale white

(These will generate depending on the pond or lake cell)

(Part 1/3)

#minecraft suggestions #minecraft ideas #minecraft #ponds #part 1 #part 1/3 #the beginning

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iuspired · 1 month

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late night studying ft. rin ⟡˖ ࣪

a/n: hiiiii long time no see! i’m on spring break so i have time to do things now 😱 anywaysss i wrote this with suna rintarou in mind but i can’t tell if it’s ooc or not 😝 i only referred to him as rin so likeeeee u can read this with ur fav ‘rin’ in mind LOLOL not proofread btw i’m so done with english rn i forgot when i wrote this i think like 3-5 months ago maybe 🤔 feedback is appreciated !!

“y/n?”

you look up from your laptop to see rin walking into your dorm with his bag of schoolwork in one hand, bag of convenient store food in the other.

your face lights up at the sight of him, and for a second, the stress and frustrations from classes wash away. “how’s ur day been?”

he puts the food on the kitchen island and walks to the other side to sit next to you. “it’s been okay, missed you though,” rin sighs as he rests his head on ur shoulder, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

you kiss his temple. “missed you too,” you murmur.

the next four hours fell silent with the occasional page flipping and kiss on the cheek to check in on each other. your guys’ side on the kitchen counter was completely swamped in schoolwork. laptops in front of the both of you, yours had a study guide pulled up while rin was working on an essay, notebooks filled with notes on the side.

finishing seven pages out of eight, you look at the corner of the screen to check the time, slightly taken aback to see it’s been a whopping four hours(!) you turn to look at rin, focused on his work, elbow propped up on the table with his hand against his cheek. he looks so cute like this, you think. if someone told you god didn’t have favorites, you’d simply show them a picture of rin to counter their claim.

you tap rin’s shoulder. “rinnie, i think we should take a break,” you yawn. “i think i’m done for the night anyway, my test isn’t even tomorrow,” you close your laptop, stacking it along with your books. “are you almost done with your essay?” you ask rin as you stand up to put your things away.

“mm.. yeah. it’s not due tonight, but i’m pretty much finished. just revising,” rin replies as he closes his eyes for a second, drowsiness taking over his body.

you place a kiss to rin’s cheek, “we should probably sleep you know,” you mumble softly, lips still against his soft skin. you wrap arms around his torso

he only hums in response as he leans into your touch. “pull me up”

you frown in response. “you’re heavy y’know?”

“it’s the muscle.”

“didn’t ask.”

despite the complaining, you take his hands and pull him out of the chair(he just wanted to hold your hand).

#he just wanted to hold ur hand ☹️☹️☹️🥹#suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #suna rintarou #suna rintaro fluff #suna drabble #suna fluff #suna rintaro x y/n

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hwaslayer · 4 months

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project: make you love me (jyh) | fourteen.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 3.8k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, seonghwa in the whole flashback scene!!, kissing/making out hehe, late night food run with yeo and yuyu, some overthinking..

"Wait." Yunho whines softly as he gently grabs at your wrist, pulling you back towards him before you could walk into the science building.

"Yunho." You playfully whine. "I literally have 2 seconds to get my ass upstairs to class."

"Well, I don't necessarily have literature with you anymore, so.." Yunho smirks. "Sorry I just want a few more kisses from my girlfriend since I won't see her until tonight."

"You're too much."

"And you're not?" He teases with a chuckle. You tippy toe to give him another kiss on the lips, Yunho chasing your lips as soon as you break the first one. You giggle against his lips, playfully pushing him back on his chest.

"I'll see you later."

"Mhm." He smiles, adjusting the hood over his head. "Have a good day, love."

"You too." You give him one last wave before you walk off to your class.

During class, you do your best to focus on your professor; taking notes as you try to keep up with the pace of the class. You can't help but daydream in between about your man, how well break treated you and your friends— though, there were a few other things occupying your mind as well.

But as of right now, you already miss Yunho.

You shift your thoughts to how the night could go, how excited you are to see him and spend time with him after a long day of classes and practice. Class ends up finishing rather quickly, especially as the last half took place with the group activity you had to do. You run to your next class, shooting your friends a quick text in the group chat to see who else has a quick break afterwards.

you: friends, who has a break in the next hour or so?

chaery: me!

you: okay, i'll meet you at the cafeteria? gonna quickly eat before my next class.

chaery: you got it bae!

You find yourself daydreaming a bit more during your Healthcare Ethics class, the majority of the class picking back up on the debate that occurred last week. Yunho sends you a quick text to tell you he hopes you're doing okay in class, following up with his usual 'i miss you' and 'can't wait to see my baby' texts. You smile to yourself as you jot down a few interesting words and phrases that come up during the debate, stringing out your notes enough to help you remember the details for your homework later.

Your professor dismisses your class about 10 minutes early, causing you to dash over to the café and take all the extra time you can get to scarf down some food before the last half of the day occurs. You order some soup and fruits to get you by, sitting at the last free corner table in the café. It's not long before Chaery walks in and grabs a small salad bowl to eat, settling in front of you with a heavy sigh.

"God, what a day already."

"Tell me about it." You pout.

"How's class been?"

"Class is class. I just can't wait until the rest of the day is over. Then we can finally grub on some good food and I can see Yunho."

"Aw." She giggles. "No, same. My schedule isn't as packed this time around, but I still feel swamped or whatever."

"Seriously."

"Is Yuyu in class?"

"Mhm. He's pretty swamped, too."

"I bet. Graduation is gonna come in no time." You nod. "By the way, have you told him already?"

"No. I just haven't gotten to it." You shrug. "It just never feels like the right time."

"I know, I get that." Chaery rests her chin on the top of her hand. "But, Seonghwa hasn't bothered you since then, right?"

"Nope."

"Maybe he finally got the fucking hint."

♣︎ FLASHBACK

"Yunho sent you roses even though he was with us all weekend?" Seungmin swings his keys around his finger as he's the first to make it to the door. Your group just arrived back home after the weekend in the snow, Yunho immediately heading to his apartment to unpack and rest after the drive.

"What're you talking about?" You catch up, with Chaery and Soobin trailing shortly behind.

"Those are roses, no?" Seungmin raises a brow, pointing at the rose bouquet sitting at your doorstep.

"Yes, but I don't think this was Yunho." You pick up the bouquet, reading the small card sitting in the middle.

"Why wouldn't it be Yunho, though? Who else would it be, babe?" Chaery smiles. "What a dream boat, spoiling his girl even—"

"It isn't Yunho." Your expression changes when you read the card, letting out a deep sigh. Seungmin slowly unlocks the door, grabbing your bags and gently setting them inside the house. Soobin follows his lead and takes Chaery's bags from her hands while the two of you continue to inspect the roses.

Y/N, I'm sorry, and I miss you. Please give me a chance to prove it. - Hwa

"What the fuck? Is he actually crazy?" She holds the card up. "Y/N, you need to toss those."

"But, they're roses." You frown a bit.

"Which aren't even your favorite flowers!" Chaery furrows her brows. "You're not seriously thinking about keeping them, are you? Seonghwa sent these to you. If Yunho sees them, he'll be upset. Rightfully so."

"I have to agree." Seungmin shrugs. "It's weird. Something tells me he's only doing it because you two are a thing now."

"Not one genuine bone in that body." Soobin chimes in as he kicks his shoes off to the side before fully stepping into the apartment. "He had all that time to give you flowers and decided now would be the best time?

"Y/N." Chaery calls your name a little more sternly this time and you let out another sigh before nodding.

"Yes, I hear you, I hear you." You repeat. "You're right."

"I'll walk you to the dump so we can get rid of that for good and keep it out of sight." She links her arm with yours, leading you to the dumpster across the lot. "Why were you thinking about keeping it?" She asks you softly, a look of concern in her eyes.

"Truthfully, I don't even know. I never expected this from him, so it threw me off guard."

"You don't actually think he'd change, do you?" You look at her with a pursed smile.

"No."

"Good, because I agree. You can't change someone like him." She gives your arm a gentle squeeze. "You're happy with Yunho, aren't you? You glow every time you're with him. He is so, so good to you. He's always been."

"I am, that's not even a question. I just, I don't know. I wasn't thinking, that's all." You get to the dump and toss the bouquet over, giving Chaery a small smile.

"Can't forget this little piece of shit." She rips the card and tosses the pieces into the dumpster. "Are you gonna tell Yuyu?"

"I don't know, does it matter? It's not like it's gonna mean anything."

"I don't know, I think you should. It might seem like you're hiding something from him even though you're not."

"Yeah." Is all you say before the two of you climb back up to the apartment and step inside.

♣︎ END

"I saw him earlier, but he just looked at me and walked past." Chaery adds before taking the fork to her mouth. "His hair got kinda longer."

"Yeah, I saw that." You sigh. "I just don't get what he wants. Apparently him and Hyeri are actually a thing."

"I haven't really seen them together on campus, though." Chaery shrugs. "He's probably pulling the same shit, let's be real. All I know is that you and Yunho are the cutest couple I've ever witnessed." You blush.

"Yunho." You softly say his name and shake your head. "Sometimes, I just wonder how I got lucky with him."

"You're so cute." She giggles. "Are you staying there tonight?"

"Yeah, but I told him we were having our dinner."

"Cute. Are your mom and sister still coming to have dinner with you guys this weekend?"

"I think so."

"What class do you have next?"

"Biostatistics, then seminar before practice."

"I guess I'll see you at practice then? I have to study for physio." You nod as you both clean up, gathering your things before heading out of the café.

"Where are the boys right now?"

"Soobin's at the library, and Seungmin is in class. I just don't remember what."

"Hm." You hum, passing the library and slowly prying yourself from Chaery. "I'll see you later then."

"Have a good class, learn something!" You give her a tiny smile before you head to your classes for the day.

The day ends up feeling a lot longer, busier, than you expect. It's probably due to all the assignments and in-class projects that you've already had to work on, making it feel like an incredibly productive day. At least time flew by, but you wish you could crawl into bed with Yunho and cuddle up to him. You already feel mentally exhausted even though the semester barely started.

When you get to practice, you and your friends take some time to stretch and warm up before Hyunjin starts to teach the beginning parts of the piece you'll be performing at the big spring fair and night market in downtown. After getting the first two 8 counts down and running it a few times, Hyunjin calls for a quick break before running it in groups to solidify the moves. Yeonjun and Jongho plop onto the floor next to you, watching Chaery and a few other people run through the piece slowly. You sip your water, scrolling through your social media while Yeonjun does the same; Jongho being the first to break the silence.

"Dude, isn't this semester kinda crazy already?" You shrug.

"Mm, yeah. It's okay. I just miss break."

"Break was fun. The snow was hella fun." Yeonjun smiles at you. "Yunho's so cool."

"Yeah, isn't he?" You giggle.

"It was fun having him around. He's easy to get along with." Jongho adds. "Can I say it?"

"Say what?"

"I'm glad you broke things off with Seonghwa."

"Same." Yeonjun adds. "Love you though, you know that right?" You laugh.

"Mhm." You purse your lips into a fine line before letting out a breath. "He sent me flowers when we got back from the snow."

"Ew, why?" Jongho furrows his brows.

"I don't really know."

"Does Yunho know about it?"

"No."

"He should." Jongho says. "He should so he could whoop that ass."

"I thought he was dating Hyeri?" Yeonjun questions.

"Dating is a very heavy word when it comes to Seonghwa."

"True."

"Let's finish up!" Hyunjin calls out, letting the music play in the background while people slowly start to make their way back to the center of the floor.

After practice, you and your roommates head home to get freshened up and have dinner together. Seungmin orders some fried chicken and sides that get delivered in the next 20 minutes— all of you sitting at the table, talking about how your new classes have been. It's nice that you've finally been able to have dinner together since everyone seems so busy with the semester already. The boys end up finishing the last few pieces of chicken, along with inhaling the side dishes while you and Chaery clean up in the kitchen. You head to your shared room, packing up a few things while Chaery sits at her desk to continue where she left off with studying.

"Can you text me when you get there?"

"I'm walking across the lot." You snort.

"Still! Let me know. I have to make sure you arrive safely." You smile and throw your arms around her from behind, giving her a small kiss on the head.

"I will."

"I love you, have fun. Say hi to Yunho and Yeosang for me."

"I will. Don't sleep too late."

"You too!" She blows you one last kiss, making you giggle as you leave the room.

"Alright, I'm off!" You give Soobin and Seungmin a wave before heading out of the door. The night is cold, crisp; you can still see your breath in the air. You're excited to finally see Yunho since you haven't been able to respond or give him much attention today. You shoot Chaery a text as you head up the steps to his building, finding yourself at his door in the next few seconds.

"Hello?" You hear Yunho on the other line, along with the echo of his keyboard.

"I'm outside."

"Oh shit, you are?" He asks excitedly. "Okay, I'll be there in a few!" You giggle as you end the call, shifting your weight back and forth as you wait for Yunho to answer the door. And as promised, he does come to the door— a huge smile on his face.

"Hi." You smile as you wave, Yunho swooping you into his arms.

"It's about time." You laugh. "I missed you."

"I know. Our dinner went on for awhile, we were just catching up about school." You step out of your shoes and head into his room. "Did you eat?"

"Yeah, not too long ago." You set your bags aside and help yourself to his crewneck to change into. "What'd you guys eat?"

"Fried chicken. All that good stuff."

"Yum." He sits on his computer chair, watching as you get your things together. "Do you have to study?"

"Yeah, already." You roll your eyes. "We're getting another small quiz next class." You plop onto his bed. "Are you playing with Yeo?"

"Yeah, I was." He scratches his temple. "Err, I will be again soon." You laugh.

"Okay."

"Let me know if I'm too loud, though."

"It won't bother me."

"Still. Just tell me if I'm annoying."

"You won't even be able to hear me, silly."

"Come sit on my lap." You playfully shake your head as Yunho wiggles his eyebrows and puts his headset back on; already furiously clicking away at his keyboard as soon as they slip on. You finish up a few other smaller assignments before pulling out your Global Environmental Health textbook to start going through the two incredibly lengthy chapters you've covered in class.

Yunho turns over his shoulder, smiling to himself seeing you studying on his bed. He loves the way his crewneck swallows you, the way you awkwardly sit with one leg stretched and the other folded in; diligently taking notes as you go through the textbook.

"We're taking a break, right? Cool." Is all you hear Yunho say before he's suddenly in front of you with a smirk on his face.

"Hi." You giggle.

"Hey." Yunho leans over to kiss you.

"What're you doing?"

"Just wanted to steal a few kisses." His next kiss continues to deepen, tongue slipping in to dance around with yours. He gently bites on your bottom lip, causing you to release a small moan in response. Yunho doesn't quit, even when Yeosang comes knocking on the door— softly calling out for Yunho.

"Baby, the door." You giggle and mumble against his lips while he continues to repeatedly kiss you.

"Are you guys decent?" Yeosang softly knocks on the door again.

"Yeah!" Yunho bites onto his bottom lip, slowly prying his eyes off of you before shifting his attention to Yeosang peeking into the room. "What's up?"

"I'm kinda craving incredibly bad junk food. You guys wanna come along?"

"Where?"

"McDonalds, probably. Since it's the closest."

"I'm down." Yunho looks at you.

"I could go for an ice cream cone and fries." Yeosang chuckles.

"That's all?" You nod happily.

"I just need to throw on some pants."

"Oh." Yeosang looks down and backs away from the door. "In that case, I'll be in the kitchen." He shuts the door, making Yunho laugh.

"What?" You look at him as you shut your books close and hop off his bed. "I do need to put on some pants."

"I know. Wish you didn't have to." You feel Yunho's hands come up inside of your sweater, giving your hips a squeeze.

"We're just going to get food, silly." He laughs after placing a chaste kiss to your cheek, throwing on a jacket.

"Yeah. Not my fault you drive me crazy, though." You give him a look just as the both of you leave the room to meet Yeosang in the kitchen.

"Pants are on. Nice." Yeosang grabs his keys. "Lehhhgo!" You trail behind Yeosang, while Yunho walks behind you. He quickly locks the door and catches up to you two, overhearing your conversation about practice and how there's another performance your group is planning to do in a few months. You're currently telling Yeosang how it'll be bigger than the one your group did before the last semester ended, and how Yeonjun and Hyunjin are freaking out about it even though there's 'time.'

"I don't know. They just don't know if we'll be able to come up with something new and better in time."

"You guys will." Yeosang looks at Yunho just as he unlocks his car door. "Why don't you do a little couple piece with Yunho or something?"

"Oh, yeah!" You slide into the backseat, buckle in and lean over towards the middle console. "Babe, he's got a point."

"Um, no. He doesn't." Yunho laughs. "I definitely don't dance."

"I know it's in you."

"How would you know that?"

"The party." You snort.

"Yeah, and when I taught you some steps, you got them down so easily.

"Doesn't mean I dance?! Maybe I just got lucky during those times."

"Oh, please." Yunho laughs. "I think it'd be cute. You guys should think about it. Add a little something in there."

"It would be fun! Maybe we can do our own thing for something down the long run, too." You smirk.

"Getting ahead of yourself." Yunho chuckles as he boops the tip of your nose.

"Fine, I won't force it." You give him a soft smile, leaning onto his shoulder as Yeosang continues to drive to McDonalds. "Just saying it would be fun." You mumble.

"That'll be something for Seonghwa to see." Yeosang snickers. "Sorry, I don't mean to bring him up, but I can't forget the way he was looking at you two during the tree lighting."

"Yeah, well." Yunho shrugs. "I hope he moves on." Seonghwa, you think. You still haven't told Yunho about the roses and how he had texted you a few weeks back. It's not that you didn't want to— you were just scared, and you weren't sure when the right time would be. Granted, you should've told him as soon as it happened, but it genuinely would slip your mind because Seonghwa was such an after-thought. Would it matter if it didn't really mean anything to you? "Babe." Yunho calls you, making you snap out of your thoughts.

"Hm?"

"You sure you just want ice cream and fries?" Yeosang asks just as he lowers his window at the drive-thru.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry."

"What were you thinking about?" Yunho asks softly as Yeosang begins the order.

"Nothing, just trying to organize my studying plans in my head."

"Mm." Yunho hums before placing a chaste kiss to the side of your head. Yeosang finishes up the order and pulls up to the first window to pay, with Yunho wiring him some money for yours and his half. Yeosang gently hands you your ice cream cone before handing Yunho the huge bag of food. "Want your fries?"

"Yes, please." Your man hands you your small fries. "Hey, so. Aren't you guys prepping for graduation already?"

"Mm, not really. I mean, they've given us key dates to look out for. But, that's it."

"Are you guys excited?"

"Excited to be thrown into the real world? Nah. Not really." Yeosang laughs. "I've started looking at some internships I could do, or keeping an eye out for places I'd wanna apply to as time gets closer."

"Same."

"Are you guys planning to stay in the apartment for awhile?"

"I guess it depends on where we both find ourselves when the time comes. I'd be down to if it allows."

"Yeah, I agree."

"Or else, it's probably back home for a bit." Yeosang shrugs. "Which, I love my family. Don't get me wrong. But, I definitely don't wanna stay there forever." He looks at you quickly through the rear view mirror. "You're gonna be a senior before you know it."

"Yikes." You giggle. "Not looking forward to it. I think I'll have more of my difficult classes piled next year."

"You'll be fine, Y/N."

"You guys have to come visit us?"

"Yeah. We'll probably be at your apartment more than you think." You laugh.

"Chaery will love that."

"I like your friends. They're good people."

"They are. And fun. I don't know where I'd be without them." You dip your fry into your ice cream. Sooner or later, Yeosang pulls back into the apartment lot and parks in a free spot. Yunho opens your door and lets you out first before following behind you. Yeosang invites him to hop onto another game on Valorant, making you giggle to yourself as they playfully bicker about the last round they had played.

After washing up in the bathroom again, you head back into Yunho's room and you slip out of your sweats; comfortably taking your spot back on his bed in front of your books. As Yunho and Yeosang finish up in the kitchen, you continue where you last left off— trying to get the most of your studying for tonight.

"I'll hop on in a minute." Yunho says before closing the door. "Baby."

"Yeah?" You look up at him as he leans forward for a kiss.

"Studying some more?"

"Gotta keep up, babe." You chuckle as he kisses you again.

"Can I distract you for just another minute or so?" He asks lowly, pressing his lips to your cheek.

"I think I can spare a minute." You giggle, watching as Yunho pushes your books aside and crawls in between your legs. You wrap your arms around his neck, his large hands coming up your sweater. He fiddles with the band of your panties, thumb brushing over your clothed core in between kisses.

"Yeo is waiting for you." You slightly whine, trying not to get too distracted by Yunho's touch.

"I know, thats why I told him I needed a minute." Yunho laughs before he looks you in the eye. "Hey."

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure you were just thinking about studying earlier?"

"Mhm." You caress his cheek with your thumb.

"Okay. I just hope you know you can come to me for anything."

"I know, love."

"Good." He kisses your forehead. "Let me know if you need anything."

"I will." Yunho walks over to his computer chair and taps his lap.

"You're always welcome to take breaks here."

"Shut up." You shake your head and laugh, bringing your books back to you. You contemplate on telling Yunho right then and there, but you're still not sure why it doesn't feel like the right time, or why you're scared. You don't wanna ruin the mood, and you don't want to make him upset.

So, you brush it off for another day. Hoping you're just overthinking the whole situation.

Besides, Seonghwa must have gotten the hint when you never replied, when you never brought up the flowers. You didn't wanna give him the time and attention he was trying to get from you, nor did you wanna give him the wrong idea.

You really just hope it blows over and that Seonghwa finally moves on, leaves you and Yunho alone. He's had all that time to change and now, it was too little, too late. You're happy, and you hope Seonghwa isn't selfish enough to get try and get in between that.

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duhnova · 1 year

Text

a witches apothecary: for all your desires and needs

pairing: witch!seungcheol x fem!reader

word count: ~4.8k

synopsis: when your boyfriend told you to read the labels on the bottles carefully you should’ve listened, because what was supposed to be a relaxing night of you messaging all the tension away turned to him being in even more pain that only you could fix.

warning(s): smut under the cut (mdni!!), established relationship, supernatural / witch au, light fluff, hint of angst? mentions of food, mentions of blood, petnames (love, babe, baby, ect.) are used for both reader and cheol, whore is used / slight degradation, marking, praise, aphrodisiac oil is used, unprotected sex, creampie, slight breeding kink, dick riding, multiple orgasms (m), squirting, oral (m receiving), throat / face fucking, deep throating, cum eating, let me know if i forgot anything! - don’t mind grammatical errors/typos (i tried) // thank you @onlyhuis & @multi-kpop-fanfics for proofreading!

the story of pink eros collab masterlist

“here you go cheol,” you plop the last basket full of herbs down on the counter top. “i finished harvesting all your herbs.” you give him a bright smile despite all the dirt on your face and hands.

“thank you baby.” he smiles back, laughing quietly at the state of your being. “when you get cleaned up, could you put these away for me please? i need to start prepping the herbs to dry so they’ll be ready for next week.” he moves the herbs to set baskets full of premade potions and potion ingredients on the counter for you.

“okay!” you chirp out before rushing to the bathroom to clean up. after scrubbing all the dirt from your fingernails you make your way back to the kitchen to start putting stuff away.

you mumbles the ingredients to yourself as you read the labels carefully, making sure you put them in the right spot. seungcheol was in one of the back rooms hanging up all the herbs to dry, giving you the whole kitchen to yourself. the longer you did things like this the more he trusted you to figure things out on your own - not being born into the same life as him. it was new adapting to all the magic he used in everyday life, but he made sure to take his time introducing you to everything.

while in the middle of rearranging some of the potions so you could add the new ones you heard quite scratches coming from the back door followed by whimpers. sighing quietly you set the small glass bottles down on the counter to go open the door, a shaggy black dog comes waltzing in with a backpack on its back.

“hi mingyu,” you smile as you watch the dog shift into a person who stands taller than your boyfriend. “i see jihoon let you out of your cage.”

“he did, and he sent me with offerings.” mingyu takes the backpack off and sets it gently on the table so he could pull out bundles of belladonna and a couple glass bottles full of a red liquid.

“is that blood?”

“from a vampire! so it stinks, be careful.” his nose crinkles in a cute way.

“do i even wanna know how he got it?” mingyu shrugs before it looks like a lightbulb went off in his head.

“oh!” he reaches back in the bag to pull out something covered in cloth. “this is very special so be extremely careful with it… ji might kill me if it breaks.”

“what is it?” you take it gently and unwrap the bottle, the handwriting was hard to read so the only thing you could read was ‘oil’.

“he wouldn't tell me but he said cheol would know what it was.” mingyu closes the backpack and throws it back over his shoulders. “speaking of, where is he?”

“the herb room, be careful going back there, the house is swamped with orders so there's boxes and ingredients everywhere.” mingyu nods his head and bids you a farewell, going to seek out his friend while being cautious of everything that's haphazardly stacked up in piles that reach the ceiling.

carefully you put the belladonna in a basket for seungcheol to deal with later, making sure to wash your hands extremely well you go back to putting everything where it belongs.

the vampire blood was almost powdery, but it moved like a liquid so it mesmerized you for a little bit, mingyu leaving out the back door snapping you out of your trance as you went back to your task.

“hey love,” you poke your head into the herb room, smiling as you watch seungcheol use his magic to levitate the herbs all around the room while also expanding the walls to make more room for everything. “where does this go?” you show him the bottle that had the mystery oil in it.

“is it from jihoon?” you hum in acknowledgment. “um, just put it with the other oils for now. i’ll deal with it later.” he tilts his head back to offer you a tired smile, his eyes flinching a little when his neck cracks.

“okay.” your voice is soft with worry but you still manage to smile back at him. “i’ll start dinner soon… how does soup sound?”

“sounds amazing.” he hums while he looks down at his herb book that’s floating off to his left before he sighs, rearranging some of the herbs after he read that they shouldn’t be mixed. quietly you back out of the doorway and close the door, leaving cheol to work in peace.

“put it with the oils?” you frown a little. “which oils though?” you sigh quietly figuring you wouldn't bother seungcheol anymore as you go to the bathroom where all the nonedible oils are kept. after mingyu consumed the oil from a non edible plant a while back seungcheol made the decision to put all nonedible oils in the bathroom where no one could eat them accidentally.

once you were back in the kitchen you hurriedly got back to putting everything away, wanting to get started on dinner early so you could get seungcheol to sit and relax for a little bit before he had to go out and set up all the water that needed to sit during the crescent moon.

there were some bottles you weren't able to put away because of the lack of space but that's something seungcheol could fix later with his magic. washing your hands again you got to work on lighting the stove, which still used fire but seungcheol needed it to be that way for him to properly cook some of his ingredients and potions. mumbling the ingredients of the soup to yourself you get everything ready and prepared while the fire gets roaring.

“we’re almost out of garlic.. i need to ask ji for some more later.” you make a mental note to text the garden witch later, even if he rarely touches his phone you hope he’ll send mingyu with some next time he makes a delivery.

“hey baby, do you know where the string is? i ran out and i have a couple more bundles to wrap and hang.” seungcheol comes up behind you while you stir the pot to hug you. he takes a big sniff of the air and groans quietly. “it smells good and i’m starving, when did you start?”

“it’ll be done by the time you are.” you giggled quietly as he kissed gently at your exposed neck. “i think we should have some more in the first drawer in the storage room.” he mumbles a quiet ‘thank you’ as he kisses your cheek before pulling himself away from your body. he also grabs the basket full of belladonna so he can dry it as well.

just like you predicted you finished dinner a couple minutes after seungcheol finished hanging everything and getting cleaned up. while you took your time to wash up, getting all the food and grime off from the day, seungcheol was setting the table - the bowls and cups floating in the air as he poured soup and drinks into them before setting them at their respective chairs.

“i was thinking,” you started talking when you entered the room. “after we finish eating I can give you a little message.” you smile at your boyfriend who looks at you with wide and curious eyes.

“oh?” his eyes follow you to your seat, his food untouched because he wanted to wait for you before he started eating.

“yeah, i noticed that you were flinching earlier when you were moving your head.” you pick up your spoon so you could take a sip of the broth that was still hot. “maybe i could help loosen up some of the muscles so its more comfortable for you to move.” seungcheol smiles wide, his dimples on full display as he watches the way you frown after burning your mouth on the broth.

“i’d love that.” he hums quietly before he eats a spoon full of the soup, the heat not really bothering him as much as he starts to scarf down his food.

“oh!” you jump out of your chair and rush back into the kitchen, the smell of the soup overpowered the bread you had baking in the oven and you almost forgot about it. “there's bread.” you bring the freshly baked bread out into the dining room, your boyfriend is quick to use his magic to levitate it out of your mitten clad hands.

“thank you baby.” he uses his magic to cut a couple slices for the both of you, levitating the knife to spread butter on them before setting them on your plates. while you both ate your dinner you talked about your days, most of which was spent preparing things for orders people had been putting in for potions and spells.

“i’ll clean up while you go get comfortable on the bed.” you give seungcheol a smile when you both finish eating.

“let me help you.” he stands up and uses his magic to pick up all the dishes, sending them to the sink where they land a little harshly - his excitement getting the best of him as he grabs your hand to drag you towards the bedroom. his magic was still doing work in the kitchen as he put all the food in the fridge.

“you're excited.” you giggle quietly as you watch him crawl onto the bed to lay on his stomach.

“of course i am, you're going to put your pretty little hands on my back.” he hums quietly. you couldn’t help the way your face heated up as you shake your head.

“take your shirt off for me, i'm gonna go get one of the message oils.” you’ve never seen your boyfriend move so quickly before as you watch his back muscles flex as he lays back down on his stomach, the tattoos on his back prominent under the dull light of the bedroom. you didn’t waste too much time going into the bathroom and grabbing one of the oil bottles, holding it under your shirt to help warm it up a little using your body heat.

“i know you want me to relax baby but i do have to be outside in the next two hours to make sure the water is in the moonlight for the longest time possible.” seungcheols voice is soft as you crawl onto the bed, sitting on top of your boyfriends ass as you hum quietly.

“i know love,” you smile gently, even though he couldn’t see it. you pull the bottle out from under your shirt and open it, a sweet but tangy scent hits your nose - it was pleasant but new, you don’t remember the scent but you shrug it off as it has been awhile since you’ve done this. “now relax.” you pour some of the red liquid onto your hands and rub them together, the color looked familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on it as you began to rub the shimmery oil into seungcheols skin. groaning quietly, seungcheol relaxed into the bed, his muscles screaming a little as you knead at his skin.

“feels good baby.” he mumbles as his eyes flutter closed, the tension beginning to leave his body the higher up his back you got. your hands would linger a little longer on the areas where his tattoos were, loving the way the specs of gold in the oil looked against the black ink.

“i’m glad it feels good.” you purr quietly as you put some more oil on your hands so you could rub at his shoulders. your hands began to tingle a little but you paid no attention to it as you messaged his shoulders, drawing louder groans from your boyfriend as you felt the knots in his muscles melt away under your fingers.

“what oil is this?” he mumbles after a couple minutes of silence. “the scent is new.. but familiar.” you shrug your shoulders before realizing he couldn’t see you.

“i don't know, but i think it's floral?” you bring one of your hands up to your nose to sniff at the oil, your head becoming a little light all of a sudden. “woah..” you whisper.

“where did the oil come from?” seungcheol groans quietly, this time in pain as he shifts under you.

“the cabinet?” you question quietly as you rub at his back again. “are you still in pain?”

“this is a different kind of pain.” he shifts under you again, his skin starting to heat up under your hands. “where did the oil come from before the cabinet baby?” you could tell his jaw was clenched as he held back another pained groan.

“um…” you fumble picking the bottle back up as you go to check the label, which is something you forgot to do before using it. you freeze as you stare at the label, jihoons horrible scribbling stared back as you as it finally dawned on you that you potentially just used something dangerous on your boyfriend. “jihoon..” you whisper.

“what?” your boyfriend's head tilts to the side as he tries to look at you behind him.

“it came from jihoon..” you gulp quietly, your hands starting to shake. “i’m so sorry cheol! i didn’t think about checking the label, the colors looked similar and i thought i grabbed the right one and now i just rubbed something into your back that could potentially ki-”

“hey,” he groans as he tries to roll over without knocking you off of him. “It's ok, it's not deadly.” he watches you through his hooded eyes as you shift around to sit on top of his lap where his cock was growing hard.

“what is it then?” your face heats up at the feeling of his bulge under your ass. you try to read the label again but give up as you lean over to set the glass bottle on the bedside table. seungcheol was quick in grabbing your hips to sit you back down on his lap after you set the bottle down. groaning quietly at the contact he closes his eyes, his jaw clenching again as he tries to focus on anything other than the pain in his body.

“it’s…” he takes in a deep breath, “its pure concentrated aphrodisiac oil.” he lets out the breath.

“what..” your eyes widen a little, you remember reading about aphrodisiacs in the book jihoon let you borrow.

“it’s for sex potions and spells..” his fingers dig into your hips. “and it's super strong.. even just the smell of it can make you horny when it's in this form.” he mumbles quietly.

“oh..” you gently set your hands on his bare chest, your fingers ghosting over his nipples that are rock hard causing him to groan loudly, his head falling back into the pillow deeper.

“please.. y/n..” he whimpers a little, his hips bucking up into yours causing you to jump forward a little, a quiet moan leaving you as you bite your lip.

“are you in pain right now because you're horny?” you mumble as you push your hips down into his as you grind against him, his own hips grinding with yours as he groans lowly.

“yes..” he was becoming breathless, his body already worked up enough to cum in his pants right then and there. there was enough aphrodisiac in seungcheols system to give him the sex drive of a bunny.

“do.. do you need something to help with it?” you try to keep a straight mind while you both helplessly grind against each other. “like an antidote or something..” you breathe out quietly.

“i don’t have any remedies made right now..” he groans as he bucks his hips up into yours hard. “i need to get off.” he almost whispers as his eyebrows furrowed together.

“can i help you get off?” you lean down to kiss gently at his jaw, nosing his cheek as he whines.

“only if you want to..” he stops his movements, his legs shaking as he tries so hard to open his eyes to look at you.

“i do want to help you,” you smile softly, moving your hands from his chest so you can fully lay on top of him, allowing you to grab his face. “besides, it would be a lot quicker with me here right?” he nods before he's rolling you two over so he's laying on top. he groans quietly in pleasure and pain, his hips instinctively rutting into yours.

“tell me when to stop.” he whispers against your lips before he kisses you deeply, his body rocking as he deeply rolls his hips into yours, his pants getting tighter than before. you both were desperately moaning into the others mouth as you sloppily made out with one another, the sexual tension becoming thicker the longer you two took to get naked.

‘cheol..” you manage to breathe out in between kisses, a needy whine escaping your lips when he nips at your tongue.

“what's wrong?” he mumbles as he trails his lips down your cheek and neck, sucking dark marks into his favorite places.

“it’s getting really hot..” you whisper while wiggling under his flaming hot body. one major side effect of the aphrodisiac is it makes the consumer really hot, almost like it mimics the body temperature that wolves and other animals experience during their heats.

“can i take your clothes off?”

“god yes.” you sit up along with him so he can pull your shirt off while using his magic to unclip and pull your bra off while he shimmies out of his own pants. you don't even get the drawstring of your pants undone before he’s pulling them off of you along with your panties. the cold air hitting your soaking hot cunt makes a shiver run down your spine and goosebumps rise up on your skin that seungcheol soothes away with his hands.

“i am going to devour you.” he groans as his warm hands trail down your legs, pushing them wide open so he can comfortably sit between them. he takes one of his hands to jerk his cock a couple times, his precum coating every inch of him. when you whimper quietly seungcheol doesn’t waste a second before he's lining up at your glistening hole. “are you sure you want this?”

“yes, please.” you were starting to sound like the desperate one here despite your boyfriend's pupils being blown with lust and his cock throbbing from all the aphrodisiac in his system. “give it all to me.” with that seungcheol pushes into your tight cunt inch by inch, his hands resting on the back of your thighs to keep them pushed wide open.

“fuck..” he groans lowly, your pussy clenching at the sound caused his hips to buck forward - his cock fully bottoming out. his fingers dig into your flesh and his jaw clenches while he waits for you to finish adjusting. when you give him the green light to start moving he doesn’t waste a breath before he's thrusting his hips.

he wanted to start slow, his muscles tense with restraint as he watches the way your head tilts back and your bottom lip disappears between your teeth. letting go of your thighs seungcheol leans his whole body over yours so he can rest his forearms on the bed on either side of your head, caging you against the bed. instinctively, your legs wrap tightly around his waist while your arms snake around his neck, your nails digging into his back as he starts to thrust harder and faster - his slow pace long forgotten as his only thought was to make you moan as loudly as possible while also getting you to cum before him.

“you feel so fucking good,” he grunts quietly as his hands grip onto the sheets tightly, his hips jackhammering into yours creating a loud squelching sound to echo throughout the room. “doing so fucking good for me, taking my cock like a good little whore.” your pussy clenches at his words causing him to fuck into you faster, the amount of slick you were creating made him slide in and out with ease.

your nails drag down his shoulders, dark red lines forming in their wake as seungcheol fucks you like theres no tomorrow. a shiver runs up your boyfriend's spine when you rake your nails over his tattoos, the skin puffing up a little but no blood spills out as you continue to mark him up.

‘keep doing that baby and i’ll cum.” he groans into your neck as he tries to will his fast approaching orgasm away.

“cum for me my love,” you purr quietly before whining when he hits your g-spot. seungcheol didn’t think twice before he was spilling his thick load into your cunt. despite being sensitive he continues to thrust into you. his cock is still painfully hard, all the aphrodisiac hadn’t been fucked out of his system yet. “let.. let me ride you.” you pant quietly, yelping when he rolls you two over so he was laying on his back again.

“ride me.” his voice dripped with dominance despite him letting you take over. once you were comfortable, your hands find purchase on seungcheols abdomen before you start to slowly bounce your hips. he groans lowly, his hips bucking up to jostle you around a little bit - the pace becoming too slow for him. biting your lip and digging your nails into his abs that flexed under your hands you pick up your pace, your hips slapping down against his harder as his cum leaked out onto his balls.

“so big,” you coo quietly, your moans turning into whines as your eyes roll and flutter a little. his cock twitched inside you as you clenched harder than before - your orgasm approaching quickly. “so full.”

“gonna fuck you even more full,” seungcheol groans as his hands find their way to your hips so he can help you bounce on his cock harder, the need to be as deep inside of you as possible becoming bigger by the second. “fill you with my cum till you're dripping with it for days.”

“please!” you moan loudly, your body jumping forward everytime his hips come up to meet yours.

“please what baby? fuck.” he almost growls when you clench around him, his cock twitching and his balls tightening as his orgasm threatens to wash over him.

“cum.. cum please, please!” you babble as you let your body collapse on top of his while he takes over in fucking into you again, his arms wrapping around your waist as he groans into your hair.

“you can cum baby,” he mumbles as he plants his feet on the bed to get a better and more stable angle. “cum all over my cock.” and just like that the coil in your stomach snaps and your orgasm washes over you as you squirt a little all over his cock.

“cheol!” you gasp and whine as he helped you ride out your orgasm, his second one washing over him as he unloaded his cum deep inside you.

the two of you lay there for a couple minutes, panting while you both come down from your highs. your lower half began to ache a little as you slowly sat up, whimpering at how sensitive you were as you gently pulled yourself from seungcheols semi hard cock.

“how do you feel?” you mumble as your hands rub at his chest, his quiet hums vibrating through your fingertips.

“less horny that's for sure.” he laughs quietly, his dimples popping out as he lazily looks at you through his lashes. “how do you feel? i wasn’t too rough with you, was i?” you shake your head.

“not at all, besides i love it when you get rough.” you shrug your shoulders as your hands gently message their way down his stomach, his muscles flexing before relaxing - a content sigh leaving him. “is all the aphrodisiac out of your system?” the lower your hands got on his body the harder his cock got again.

“i would say it is…” he watches you with dark eyes. “but it's hard to tell with your hands on me like that still.” he smirks at the sweet smile you give him.

“well you were still a little hard when i got up.” you crawl backwards slowly till your head is positioned right above his cock. “so maybe you still need my help.”

“i’ll never turn down your help baby.” he breathes out, gasping when your fingers wrap around the base, your fingertips almost touching. you jerk him off a couple times before you stick your tongue out to kitten lick at the head, the tip of your tongue swirling around his slit causing him to hiss and buck his hips up. giggling quietly you decide that teasing him could wait another night as you slowly lower your head, taking inch by inch until you couldn’t take anymore.

“fuck,” your chest swells with pride at being able to make him sound so fucked out. slowly you start to bob your head, your hand wrapped around the part you didn’t get shoved down your throat yet. “mouth feels so good.” his groans were like music to your ears as you picked up the pace.

considering he was already sensitive and overstimulated from the oil and his first two orgasms, his third climax wasn't far off. his legs began to tense up a little the closer it got causing you to use both your hands to soothe at his legs while you worked on deep throating him. after a little bit of effort you were able to nestle him nicely down your throat as he began to buck his hips up, fucking your throat as he chased after his next orgasm.

“y/n!” he moans, his orgasm washing over him like a tidal wave as he cums down your throat and all over your mouth. swallowing every last bit of cum you make sure to kiss your way back up his body, giggling when he laughs quietly. “you’re amazing, you know that?” he whispers right before you kiss him on the lips, his tongue instantly exploring every inch of your mouth as he tastes himself on your tongue.

“you’re amazing too.” you whisper before kissing him again, this time softer. after pulling away from one another, seungcheol slowly sits up carefully so he doesn’t head butt you.

“lets go get cleaned up.” he stands up and stretches, groaning as the bones in his back pop. you can't help but drool a little at the muscles in his back, they flex so deliciously as he stretches his arms out and the black ink mixed with the deep red scratch marks was making your head dizzy. when he was done seungcheol picked you up gently to carry you to the bathroom where he ran you two a hot bath - making sure to put the correct soap and oils into the water so you can get the maximum relaxation effect.

“not to alarm you or anything but its almost ten thirty.” you hum quietly as you relax deeper into the water while using seungcheols chest as your backrest.

“seven hours minimum is needed for the crescent moon water.” he mumbles against your neck as he relaxes with you. “as long as i'm out and setting up the water by eleven it’ll be fine.”

“you better not be out there all night.” you mumble already knowing he won't be joining you in bed later until sunrise.

“i'll try baby.” he laughs quietly when you grumble out a quiet ‘bullshit’ before sitting up to grab your shampoo wanting to hurry up and get out so that seungcheol can attend to his water and you can go to bed (where you’ll one hundred percent pout until your boyfriend comes to join you). “i love you.” he coos, smiling when he notices how hard you're trying not to smile as you lather shampoo into yours then his hair.

“i love you too..” you mumble, finally giving in and offering him a smile as you helped rinse his hair out. “but you better come to bed tonight, or i’ll strap you to it tomorrow.” he laughs quietly as he grabs your hips so he can pull you close enough for him to kiss the tip of your nose.

“i’ll come to bed tonight baby, i promise.” and he did keep his promise, after spending two hours setting everything up and making sure it was all protected properly he crawled into your guys bed where he proceeded to lay on top of you like a cat (and even if he was up a couple hours later putting the water away before the sun came out you couldn’t complain too much about his lack of sleep since he did keep his promise, and he took a nap later that day per your request while you took care of some of the potion making that didn’t require magic).

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#svthub #svthub.collab #the story of pink eros collab #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #seungcheol x reader #witch!seungcheol #tw food

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ugh-yoongi · 11 months

Text

the retreat | jhs

(or, the one where namjoon just wants hoseok to take care of himself, but then there's a fake relationship, only one bed, a guy who doesn't talk, and maybe a weird cult.)

✤ pairing: hoseok x f. reader ✤ genre: childhood bf2l, fake dating-ish au; crack, fluff, smut ✤ rating: explicit. minors do not interact. ✤ warnings: there is a lot of talk about food and eating in here, so i would not suggest reading this if you are sensitive to those kinds of triggers. tropes galore! side taegi. 5th muster jimin from that one vcr. hobi is pansexual and i do not wanna hear from the weirdos during pride month, or ever. he is a millionaire tho so he's not off the hook. a slight astrological dragging. a strained mother-daughter relationship. the smut is not super explicit or detailed but warnings are as follows: kissing, oral sex (f. receiving), biting, hair pulling, hobi may or may not rip a pair of underwear, fingering, protected vaginal sex. a brief but canonical breaking-the-fourth-wall appearance by park bogum. beta'd by me, so any mistakes are my own. ✤ wordcount: 19.6k ✤ thank you: @the-boy-meets-evil, as always, for the encouragement and reading every draft of this. @hot-soop for both the astrological advice and advice in general. @effortandmore for reading this over recently and telling me it was worth finishing. i would get absolutely nothing done without the three of you. ✤ author's note: i was supposed to have this posted for jess's birthday two years ago. we're not gonna talk about that, because this just means i'm a month early for this year. happy early birthday, jess! anyway~ this is basically a 20k love letter to jung hoseok bc i miss him. i hope you enjoy it.

Jung Hoseok is overworked.

(He’s also filthy rich, the proud owner of not one but two Lamborghinis [that he doesn’t even drive], and smiling on the cover of Forbes. He has a top floor penthouse in the most expensive high-rise in the city and a vacation home along the Italian coast. When he needs to go on a business trip, his driver takes him straight to the tarmac where he boards a private plane. His tailor just sends him clothes now, the cost of dressing Jung Hoseok far outweighed by the dozens of other filthy rich men who flock to his store to buy whatever he’s wearing.)

Jung Hoseok is also going to have a stroke and die before the age of 30, because what’s a little money at the expense of his mental well-being and cardiac health?

“All things considered, it wouldn’t be the worst way to go out,” he argues, clammy palms flat on his expensive desk. Rosewood, because not only is he a millionaire, he’s a millionaire with taste. None of that monochromatic minimalist bullshit for him, thank you.

In front of him, Kim Namjoon also looks to be on the verge of a stroke. Not of the same variety. Namjoon is paid well because he works for Hoseok and Hoseok insists on it. None of that heartless, dickhead-to-everyone, impossible-to-work-for CEO reputation for him, either, thank you.

Namjoon is also a militant vegan and has twenty-six plants and one bonsai on his desk named Bonnie. He insists on spending his lunch breaks in Hoseok’s office, lecturing him on the benefits of plant-based diets and exercise and meditation. Despite his perpetual smile and sunny demeanor, no one else speaks to Hoseok this way, but Namjoon does. Absolutely doesn’t give a shit.

“It absolutely would be the worst way to go out. Have you even been listening to me?”

Hoseok sighs and closes the symptoms of a stroke tab in his browser. “I always listen to you, Namjoon, I just don’t always listen.” A smart choice, too, judging by the swamp-colored sludge Namjoon has in a glass container, because he doesn’t use plastics.

Following his boss’s line of sight, Namjoon frowns. “It’s a pitaya bowl. Don’t look at it like that.”

“It looks radioactive,” Hoseok says, face contorted in a wince. “Like it’s going to become sentient and sprout six arms.”

Namjoon scoffs. “If it does, I hope it uses all six of them to slap the shit out of you.”

“I could pay it to spare me,” Hoseok insists, chin jutting out indignantly.

One of the reasons Hoseok had all but demanded HR hire Namjoon—despite there being a plethora of other candidates who were just as qualified and nowhere near as hell-bent on him taking care of himself—was his grit and determination. He’d showed up two hours early to his interview and steamed his suit jacket in the employee bathroom. It was completely insane and even more neurotic, but Hoseok had been taken with him immediately.

Now, it seems that determination and hard-headed nature is coming back to bite Hoseok in the ass.

“Oh, yeah? You’re gonna pay your blood to not get cut off from your brain and your heart, too? Well, good for you, Hobi. I heard blood has even started taking American Express. You’re in luck—”

Unable to take anymore, Hoseok groans and waves his arms to cut him off. “Okay, I get it! God, why did I hire you? Your desk alone has to be violating at least fourteen different health codes. Your office is humid. Do you know how impossible that is to achieve outside of a greenhouse?”

“You hired me because I’m good at my job and I’m not afraid of you, so I have no issue slapping your fourth double bacon cheeseburger of the day out of your greasy, on-the-brink-of-dying hands. Christ, you act like it’d actually kill you to eat a vegetable for once.”

Hoseok squawks. “Hey! That definitely didn’t come up in the interview, and I have never eaten four cheeseburgers in a day. Stop being hyperbolic.”

“Speaking of things that start with hyper- and have a Bin them, hyperbaric therapy is great for people with infections from oxygen-starved tissue—”

“Is this what you do all day? You just sit on the internet and search for diseases I could potentially die from and then you come in here and harass me about them?”

Namjoon’s face, which had previously been scrunched up in righteous indignation, smooths over into something far more serious. (He doesn’t even have wrinkles. Namjoon’s skincare routine must be immaculate.)“Someone has a stroke every forty seconds in this country, Hoseok. I wouldn’t joke about this.”

Well, okay. Every forty seconds is far more often than Hoseok had been expecting. Not that he thinks about stroke statistics often, and definitely not outside of Namjoon’s overbearing presence—but, in his defense, it’s not like he’s had much of a reason. He gets a physical and routine blood work done every year and his doctor has never rung any alarm bells, so why would he?

But the resolution with which Namjoon is hammering away at this is definitely giving him pause.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by him, either. “See, you are concerned! Look, you’re far more likely to stick with something if you don’t overwhelm yourself, so let’s start small, okay? One salad per day. And a real salad, Hoseok—not one of those ones loaded with cheese and bacon and drenched in ranch dressing.”

Hoseok’s jaw snaps closed. “Then what’s the point of eating a salad?”

“To prevent you from dying before your thirtieth birthday. We’ve already established this.”

“Okay,” Hoseok drawls, “but it’s not the salad’s fault if that happens. You shouldn’t take it out on him.”

Namjoon gags. “Leave it to me to work for a man who thinks salads are male.” He casts his gaze skyward. “Please, Lord, if you’re listening, please put me out—”

“Please put me out of my misery first,” Hoseok interjects, also staring at the ceiling. Then, with a leveled glare, he says to Namjoon, “Fine. State your terms.”

“Really?” Namjoon asks, having the audacity to look shocked.

“Yeah, if it’ll get you off my back. I can’t spend one more lunch break in here with you.”

Namjoon smiles. Nothing friendly, either—it’s purely sinister and mocking. Then he says, “Great success!” in a horrible impersonation of Borat and the moment’s gone, lost to the stagnant air conditioning of Hoseok’s office.

Unsurprisingly, Namjoon’s terms include a lot of vegetables.

Hoseok has a private chef, of course, so it’s not like he has to really do much other than smile through the pain. But, really, would it actually kill him to be allowed a steak or some lamb skewers? What had started off as salads for lunch has turned into a full-blown war between the two of them. Hoseok had shown up with cheese and bacon on his salad one time and Namjoon nearly went off the rails, performing a very enthusiastic speech about how Hoseok cannot be trusted when left to his own devices, so here they are.

Namjoon’s trying his hardest to crack Hoseok, and Hoseok wouldn’t have become the CEO of a Fortune 500 company by the age of twenty-eight if he were so easily cracked.

So, yeah, here they are. Locked in a stalemate like two idiot deer with their antlers tangled together, except instead of feuding over territory or a mate, they’re ready to spear one another over vegetables.

Darwin would have a lot to say about this.

On Friday, at exactly one-o’clock on the dot, Namjoon barges into Hoseok’s office and slaps a stapled-together pile of papers onto his desk. “New terms.”

“Oh, no thank you,” Hoseok replies airily. “I’m not much of a Dua Lipa fan.”

“Wha—that’s ‘New Rules.’”

“Is it?” Hoseok’s smiling, eyebrows raised in that way that makes him look super charming and innocent.

Namjoon isn’t fooled, though. “Cut it out. I saw you eating ribs under your desk the other day. You owe me this.”

Not much shocks Hoseok, but being outed like this so brazenly sure does. “How did you know about that?”

“Uh, did you forget your office walls are made out of glass?” Namjoon twirls a finger in a circle, as if to say look at your four glass walls, you fucking idiot. Isn’t it great to be rich and have no privacy? “Not to mention you had a glob of barbeque sauce on your shirt that I could smell from a mile away.”

“I could’ve put it on my salad,” Hoseok reasons.

“Oh, please.” Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Six ribs and a side of potato salad does not a salad make.”

“What do you mean? It’s literally called potato salad, isn’t it? God, you’re uptight.”

Namjoon sucks in a deep breath, most likely reciting meditation mantras in his head while he thinks about his plants. “I didn’t come in here for this,” he eventually says, and Hoseok is honestly impressed at how collected he sounds. “The point is you can’t be trusted, so there’s new terms.”

Grabbing the stack of papers, Hoseok flips through them casually. “And if I don’t agree? Don’t forget I’m your boss.”

“If you don’t agree, I’m posting the security footage of you eating those ribs on Twitter.” Hoseok’s looking positively scandalized now. He wouldn’t. Namjoon wouldn’t do that to him. “Honestly, Hoseok. You should be ashamed of yourself. You looked like that video of that oversized baby covered in peanut butter.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Hoseok asks, eyes narrowed. “Seriously, who are you? Because the man standing across from me is not my sweet baby Namjoon. Sweet, sweet Namjoon, who always checks the toilet bowl before he uses it because he saw one of those videos from Australia of a snake being in there and he’d feel too guilty to even piss on a snake—”

Namjoon plants his palms on Hoseok’s desk and puffs out his chest a little. It’s a great chest, Hoseok must admit. Namjoon had mentioned in passing he’d started going to the gym, so he’s not—“I’m not afraid of you,” Namjoon reminds him. “Try me.”

“I have thirty-two lawyers.”

All Namjoon does is quirk an eyebrow. “I have thirty-thousand Twitter followers.”

“I can fire you.”

“Please do. Capitalism is a scourge on this earth and I no longer wish to participate in it.”

“I can fire you and make sure you never find employment in this city ever again.”

Namjoon shrugs. “Fine by me. I’ve been thinking about moving out of the city, anyway. Too much air pollution and I have no space to garden.”

Two things become clear very quickly: 1. Namjoon is far more cut-throat than Hoseok ever anticipated him being; and 2. Hoseok is woefully underprepared for this particular battle. No matter. He’s business-savvy. There’s no shame in conceding an unwinnable battle if he can still win the war, and that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

“Fine,” he relents after an awkward staring contest that lasts two minutes too long. “What are your new terms, then?”

“You have to go to a wellness retreat.”

Hoseok can’t stop the giggle that bubbles out of his mouth. “Sorry, did you say a retreat? How is that a punishment?”

“It isn’t,” Namjoon says. “It’s meant to reset your body and mind. No phones allowed. Just you and your partner in the refreshing, reinvigorating air of the rainfor—”

“What was that?” Hoseok interjects.

“What, the rainforest part? Don’t worry, it’s safe. You’re not, like, sleeping outside with tarantulas and shi—”

“No, not that. Me and my who?”

“Oh!” Namjoon grins. “Your partner. See, I did a lot of research and found the absolute best and most effective wellness retreat for people of your… uh, standard. And the man who runs this retreat is incredible. Like, world-renowned. But the catch is it’s a couple’s retreat, so you’ll have to find someone to play pretend with you for a month.”

Hoseok is a great businessman. He’s good at negotiations and managing relationships and making smart, anticipatory decisions. He has the bank account and name plate with accompanying title on his desk to prove it. But, as he takes in Namjoon’s words, the only thing his brain can come up with is the Windows shutdown sound and a glaring blue screen alerting him to danger.

Nevertheless, one of Hoseok’s rules for business is to never let the opposition see him frazzled. “Why don’t you just come with me?” he offers casually, his tone completely at odds with the pained, panicked expression on his face.

“Two reasons,” Namjoon says quickly and without hesitation, as if he expected this and had all the time in the world to prepare a rebuttal. “First, you couldn’t pay me enough to act like we’re a couple. No offense, but you’re kind of insufferable and I would never date a carnivore—”

Hoseok clicks his tongue. “Wow. Some offense taken.”

“—Second, someone has to stay behind and hold down the fort if you’re going to be gone for a month.”

“Why can’t Brad do it?” Hoseok asks. This time his strained tone completely gives him away.

“You don’t trust Brad.”

Hoseok’s brows furrow. “I never said that.”

“You absolutely did say that,” Namjoon responds immediately, pulling out his phone. “On April nineteenth at approximately ten-twenty in the morning, you said, and I quote, ‘Namjoon, why do you think I hired you? If I had to suffer through having one more Ivy League white guy who played lacrosse and got grandfathered into a fraternity as my assistant, I was going to throw myself down this elevator shaft.’ To which I replied, ‘Oh, you don’t like Brad?’ And you said, ‘Brad’s fine, I guess. I just don’t trust him.’ So, I asked you why, and you said, ‘I wouldn’t trust Brad to order a box of staples, let alone to know the difference between tteokbokki and hotteok—’”

“That doesn’t sound like something I’d say at all,” Hoseok lies. It absolutely sounds like something he’d say at ten-twenty in the morning on the nineteenth of April. “Also, did you really make a note of that? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Of course I didn’t,” Namjoon fires back. “I obviously took a voice recording of it first and transcribed it later. Sometimes I listen to it on repeat when I really want to strangle you and it calms me, because it serves as a reminder that if I go to prison for attempted murder, Brad will take my job. And we can’t have that, because you might simply distrust Brad, but I fucking hate him.”

Hoseok gapes a little. “We sure can’t,” he agrees. Tense air settles between the two of them as they both wait for the other to make the first move. Namjoon’s patient, having already played his hand knowing Hoseok has nothing to trump him, but Hoseok’s stubborn. He’ll drag this out as long as humanly possible. He’ll be ninety years old, on his fourth heart transplant, and still waiting to go on this trip. He’ll—

He’ll have to step down as CEO, because he has, once again, severely underestimated Kim Namjoon.

“Stop thinking so hard. It’s already booked and paid for.”

“With whose money?”

“Company card.”

“Which has my name on it. I’ll just cancel it.”

“It’s non-refundable, but go ahead. You’re still out all that money, though, so you might as well go.”

“I can’t just take a month off,” Hoseok says. He’s grasping at straws now. No one would dare tell him no, even if he wanted to take the next six years off. Human Resources would simply say of course, sir, have a great vacation, sir, see you in six years, sir, and off he’d go.

“Sure you can.” Namjoon stands, wipes his hands on the dress pants stretched to their limit across his thighs, and looks entirely too smug. “Better start looking for a date. Maybe you’ll have some luck on Tinder.”

Bile rises in Hoseok’s throat. “Tinder? Are you joking? I’m too rich to go on there. What if I find a nice date, take them home, and wake up in a bathtub full of ice because they found out who I was and decided to sell my organs?”

“No one would want them,” Namjoon deadpans. “I see the absolute filth you funnel into that body of yours and I can say, with one-hundred percent certainty, that your organs are worthless. Mine, on the other hand. Pristine—”

“Get the hell out of my office. I can’t even look at you right now.”

Good thing, too, because Namjoon’s still wearing that stupid little smirk. The really smug one that infuriates Hoseok to no end because it brings out his dimples, makes him look innocent and cute even though he’s not. The one that gloats Namjoon’s victory, like he’d known all along it was going to end this way. He’d hid those cards so far up his sleeve, Hoseok’s surprised they hadn’t started sprouting from his ears. God, he’s really insufferable. Makes Hoseok’s blood pressure spike something fierce.

“Did you ever stop to consider you’re the problem?” Hoseok calls to Namjoon’s retreating frame. When had he gotten so broad? “That maybe, if my heart does give out, it’ll be because I have to deal with you, the most stressful person on earth?”

“Nah, it’ll definitely be because two of your desk drawers are full of those disgusting oatmeal creme pies.” Somehow, Namjoon looks even more smug as Hoseok tries to discreetly glance at the aforementioned drawers. How does he find out all these things? “Anyway, you leave in two weeks! Good luck in your search. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, sir.”

Just as he’d assumed would be the case, Hoseok has no luck on Tinder.

See, he’d fucked up from the beginning, deciding to be honest and truthful and explain his plight to any sympathetic pair of eyes that may have gazed upon it. He’d also decided to use his real name, and anyone familiar with those List of Billionaires We Should Eat listicles had snuffed him out immediately. Long gone were the days of genuine conversation and playful flirting. Now, Hoseok’s inbox is full of more genitalia than he’s ever seen in his life. He’s literally drowning in it and can’t even take time to appreciate the situation in which he’s accidentally found himself.

He’s absolutely going to kill Kim Namjoon once this is all over.

After getting over the embarrassment of the next day’s MULTIMILLIONAIRE CEO JUNG HOSEOK SPOTTED ON TINDERheadline, because he hadn’t even had the good sense to use Raya, Hoseok resigns himself to scrolling through the contacts list in his phone. He’s not desperate or stupid enough to invite his ex, or any of the myriad of names he can’t put to faces because, despite what Namjoon says, he’s still concerned about his organs, so he also resigns himself to calling you.

His best friend.

Who’s going to spend the rest of her life roasting him over this.

“What a pleasant surprise,” you greet him. “Haven’t heard from you in weeks. Let me guess, you need me to make another burner account and explain to Rose Emoji and Hammer and Sickle Twitter why they shouldn’t eat you?”

“No—”

You tsk. “That’s a shame. I think I missed my calling in life.”

“Being a Twitter troll?”

“Yeah, obviously,” you agree. “Do you remember that time I set up the fake Gofundme to pay for my conservative cousin’s cephalanalectomy surgery because the liberal snowflake surgeon refused to perform it and he was going to die if they literally did not remove his head from his ass? That was fucking gold, Hobi. I’m a natural.”

“You’re definitely something,” he acquiesces. Then he has an idea. “Hey, do you wanna help me troll Namjoon?”

Your silence is deafening. “Uh, that depends.” Oh, Hoseok does not like your hesitation at all. “He has, like, a lot of Twitter followers, so I’m not trying to beef with him publicly, even if it is on a burner account.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afr—what the fuck kind of Twitter following does this guy have?”

“It’s probably better if you don’t know,” you say, voice laced with faux-concern. “I like Namjoon and I’d like him to remain employed by you simply so he can annoy the absolute fuck out of you until the day you either retire or die. So, yeah, let’s keep that between him and I.”

Hoseok feels dizzy. Probably because he’s been eating all these goddamn salads and now he’s nutritionally deficient. “Whatever. I do actually need your help with something, though.”

“You know my rates.”

“Why do I have to pay to hang out with you?” Hoseok whines. “Isn’t my life-long friendship enough?”

You snort. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Why is everyone bullying me lately? Can’t you spare a crumb of empathy for your best friend?”

“Empathy machine broke,” you deadpan. “Come on, ask me what my terms are. I already know what I want this time.”

Hoseok sighs. He wouldn’t relent this quickly for anyone else. He has a reputation to uphold, after all. “Fine. What are your—”

“I want a Birkin bag and dinner from that new Brazilian place by your office.”

“That’s a definite no on the bag,” Hoseok says. “I’m not spending that much money on anyone who isn’t my future spouse. We can have dinner, though.”

“I think you misheard me, sunshine. I said I want to go to dinner there. I’m going to gorge myself on expensive all-you-can-eat meats and I do not want to taint my experience watching you shovel a miserable, wilted salad into that pretty little heart-shaped mouth of yours. I’ll get agita.”

“Agi—I can’t believe this,” Hoseok whines, feeling the apples of his cheeks tinge red. “Have you and Namjoon been getting together to conspire against me? Is that why the two of you are bullying me?”

Hoseok expects you to say no. He expects you to say that you and Namjoon don’t even speak, you’d only met him once at that Christmas party a year ago, during which Namjoon spent the entire time waxing poetic about conifers and that time he dropped acid at Yosemite and cried for a week straight. But no. No, you don’t say anything at all, and if Hoseok was feeling bullied and just a little scandalized before, he’s absolutely feeling tortured now.

Namjoon, on his own, is bad.

You, on your own, are worse.

The two of you, together? No. Hoseok simply can’t—and won’t—allow it.

You suck in a breath. “In my defense—”

“You absolute traitor,” Hoseok seethes. “You, of all people, have betrayed me?”

There’s a tiny gasp on the other end of the line. “Oh, come off it, Hobi!” you snap. “Have you ever seen yourself eat? It’s foul. Like something straight out of Animal Planet.”

“It is not!”

“It is, and you know it,” you fire back. “I once watched you eat an entire personal-sized pizza in forty-two seconds. I don’t even think you chewed it. You just detached your jaw like some kind of creepy snake and inhaled. Something needed to be done.”

It’s Hoseok’s turn to gasp. “And that something was going full Judas Iscariot and selling me out to the Romans for thirty pieces of silver?”

There’s a pause on your end. “Is Namjoon the Romans in this scenario? Because, if so, I’ve got to say—”

“Who cares!” Hoseok snaps. “Who fucking cares who the Romans are—”

“The Romans, probably,” you chime in unhelpfully.

“—because the two of you have officially given me agita. How’s that? Huh? First I have to sit through all of Namjoon’s lunch lectures—”

“He should trademark that. Has a nice ring to it. Namjoon’s Lunch Lectures.”

“—then, I had to start eating salads. Salads. Then he signs me up for some stupid wellness retreat in the goddamn rainforest and tells me I have to find a fucking date, so off I go to Tinder, but everyone on there only wanted me for my harvestable organs, so I was like, ‘You know what, Hoseok? You know who you can always count on? Your best friend of twenty years. She’s never let you down. She’ll go with you, and the two of you will have a good time, because she’s your best friend and you enjoy her company.’ But no, come to find out—”

There’s a very loud shriek of laughter. “Oh my god. Holy shit, Hobi, is that really why you called? Namjoon actually signed you up for that couple’s retreat?”

Now, there’s a very loud shriek of disbelief. “You fucking knew about that?” You try to contain your snort. Really, you do, but it’s no match for Hoseok’s palpable ire. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me?”

“Oh, come on! It’ll be good for you, sunshine. You’re clearly overworked. You had visible stress lines in the last selfie you posted on Instagram.”

“I did not, I use hyaluronic acid!” he insists, but if Hoseok swipes out of your call to pull up his Instagram account, no one has to know.

You groan. “Why do you keep arguing with me? I’m never wrong.”

“Yes you are.” There’s a very pointed pause during which Hoseok can very clearly, in his head, hear you say see?

“Listen,” you say, voice strong with all the conviction of a person who hadn’t spent the last five minutes being a menace to society—and Hoseok. “I’ll go with you. I have some time off from my program and there’s nothing I’d rather do than spend a whole month in the rainforest with you.”

“I feel like that was sarcastic.”

You tut. “Honestly, Hobi, it’s like you don’t even know me at all. You know number three on my bucket list is going to Costa Rica to hang out with sloths.”

His phone pings a second later with a text from you. An article about a sloth sanctuary greets him, and he swallows the immediate ew that’s on the tip of his tongue. Sloths are cute, sure, but they also have bugs. “Great,” he chokes out. “Are you gonna meet a sloth and turn into Kristen Bell? Because I’m not signing up for that. You look like Kim Kardashian when you cry.”

“Fuck you.” Hoseok is a millionaire, he doesn’t deserve this treatment. “Now, what are your plans for tomorrow night? Let’s do dinner. We need to take a bunch of selfies during sunsets so we look like a plausible couple.”

When he was eight and you were seven, Hoseok witnessed his first act of violence.

A kid on the school bus had been giving him a hard time. Nothing totally awful, just being a bit of a dick the way kids are wont to do, and Hoseok was a pushover back then. Just wanted everyone to like him so he never really stuck up for himself. Just smiled and laughed off the teasing and cried about it later.

Apparently this was unacceptable to you.

You tossed your bookbag in Hoseok’s lap, pushed up your sleeves, made your way to the back of the bus, and told that kid you’d slam his head into the window if he didn’t stop picking on Hoseok.

He’d gotten his head slammed into the window approximately fourteen seconds later.

(Never messed with Hoseok again, though.)

Since then, the two of you have been nearly inseparable. Sure, there had been petty arguments here and there, and Hoseok had gone to an Ivy League across the country, but it was rare for the two of you to go more than a few days without talking. Even now, when Hoseok works eighty hour weeks and is busy being a Very Important Person, he still makes time for you. Sometimes that time is just exchanging stupid memes over text, but he always makes the effort.

Which is why, even though you don’t see the point in crafting some elaborate backstory and had only said the thing about the sunset selfies to con him into coming over, he stays quiet and shows up to your apartment for dinner and worldbuilding anyway, because it’s been too long since he’s last been here and he misses you.

“Are you taking notes?” Hoseok asks, pointing at you with his fork. “This is important.”

You groan into your wine glass. “Fake dating is so hard,” you whine. “Why can’t we just tell the truth?”

He levels you with a stare. “Because! Don’t you think it’s a bit…”

“What, you think it’s totally unbelievable that I could be in love with you?”

Oh. Hoseok doesn’t like this at all, either. Doesn’t like the way the words sound in your mouth. Doesn’t like the way his stomach drops as he digests them. Doesn’t like how nice they sound, like you’d just waded through all the extracurricular bullshit to get straight to the point and arrive at the inevitable conclusion, which is the two of you riding off together into that sunset you’d mentioned before.

He doesn’t like feeling like he might want that.

It’s not like he’s never thought about it. You’re his best friend and he has 20/20 vision, so of course he has. It's always just been one of those things: didn’t want to ruin your friendship, moved across the country, got too busy, didn’t think you’d want him like that in return.

“I—no,” he says unconvincingly. “I just… it’d totally be weird, right? Us pretending to be a couple?” He throws in a chuckle for good measure, as if the thought of dating you is so preposterous it simply has to be a joke.

You just shrug. Where Hoseok is all nervous jitters, you’re solid and unshaken, always. “Not really. We’ve been friends forever. We’re obviously comfortable with each other. You showing up to my place in those disgusting crochet shoes is proof enough of that.”

Hoseok looks down at his feet and frowns. “They’re Valentino.”

“More like Valenti-no.”

He rolls his eyes. “See, that right there is why we can’t wing this. I can’t pretend to like your awful jokes. I’ll out myself immediately.”

You roll yours right back. “Nah, I think it works. You’re obviously the high-strung CEO who doesn’t appreciate good humor when he sees it and I’m the sad housewife who just wants you to laugh at my jokes.” You jut out your bottom lip and pretend to cry. “Why won’t you just laugh at my jokes, Hobi?”

He flicks a green bean at you. “How’d we go from fake dating to fake marriage? Stop trying to swindle me.”

Once again, you pout dramatically. “God, first you refuse to laugh at my jokes, now you refuse to marry me? You’re breaking my heart here.”

“I’m not buying you a ring,” Hoseok scoffs. “I know for a fact you’ll just turn around and sell it for triple the price to some poor, unsuspecting bastard.”

“Not my fault there’s a lot of poor, unsuspecting bastards in the world. All of this just proves, for the billionth time, that I’m the better businessperson between the two of us.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Hoseok sighs. “Just because your lemonade stand outsold mine once doesn’t mean—”

“I also outsold you during that candle fundraiser in the fifth grade. And the candybars during Little League. And that bullshit one in high school with the pineapple pizzas—”

“Fine!” Hoseok throws his hands up. Then, with as little of a grimace as he can muster, he says, “Let’s go to Costa Rica, Mrs. Jung.”

It doesn’t land.

Your jaw drops immediately, an exaggerated gag spilling from your lips. “I changed my mind,” you deadpan. “No marriage for us unless you take my last name.”

“What’s wrong with mine?”

“Feels bad in my mouth. What’s wrong with mine?”

Hoseok rolls his lips together. “Nothing, really. Just—”

“Is this some kind of male pride thing? You refuse to take your wife’s last name for fear of public ridicule and castration jokes?”

“No.” Hoseok glares at you. “It’s just—the reservation’s in my name. Besides, if someone made shitty jokes about you, I’d slam their head into a window, too.”

“Oh.” As soon as your jaw snaps shut, a brilliant smile splits your face. “That was unexpectedly wholesome, Seok. You’re getting soft in your old age.”

Only for you, he wants to say. Instead, he shoves another forkful of rice in his mouth and a copy of the itinerary in your direction.

(For all your bravado and willingness to slam the heads of elementary school bullies into windows, you hate flying. So, if you squeeze Hoseok’s hand too tight and he snaps a photo of it under the guise of how comically purple-red it’s turning, and not at all because it’s the first time you’re holding his hand and some weird, sentimental part of him wants to commemorate it, that’s his business.

If his heart is so full it nearly bursts out of his chest at the sight of you crying over a sloth, and if he memorizes the stars in your eyes as you hold one—not caring about the bugs or the giant claws or the fact that sloth fur kind of looks like a bird nest, algae included—that’s his business.

If he posts the photo of you crying to his Instagram, knowing damn well you’re going to yell at him for it later, and he cackles wildly over Namjoon’s comment:

[namjooning commented: why does she cry like that kim kardashian meme? junghoseok replied: Right? That’s what I said]

—that’s his business. It’s only because he’d said you look like Kim Kardashian when you cry and, if nothing else, Hoseok loves to be proven right. It has nothing to do with wanting to remember you that happy forever. Not at all.

If he feels like he’s going into cardiac arrest when you hug him tightly, murmuring a quiet thank you in his ear on the last night of your stay at the sanctuary, it’s simply because you’re not very tactile. Hugs—and outward affection—from you are rare. That’s all. His skin absolutely does not break out in goosebumps. Doesn’t feel tingly all over. His breathing continues as normal.

If he finally comes to the startling realization that he’s in way too deep when you fall asleep on his shoulder during the drive to the resort, well…

Hoseok may be deadly smart, but he’s always been a complete fool when it comes to you.

If he sends a panicked text to Namjoon asking how he’s supposed to survive the next month, and if Namjoon misinterprets it as an ambitious, live-to-work type-A personality freaking out over not knowing how to unwind and tells him to just take it easy, and Hoseok misinterprets that as go for it, well…

The next four weeks sure are going to be interesting, aren’t they?)

See, the thing about Hoseok is he has all the money and prestige a man of his status could want.

He’s filthy rich, he’s well-respected, he’s kind. People love him. He loves people in return. He’s been called the living embodiment of actual sunshine more times than you or he could possibly count. There’s truly nothing he wants for in this world.

Hoseok is also the type of person who gets anxious at the thought of calling the Malaysian restaurant you two frequent to place a delivery order. Namjoon has to force him to make his own personal appointments under threat of death. He changed doctors because his new one lets him schedule appointments online. He won’t go to a fast food drive-thru unless they have mobile ordering.

It’s just the way Hoseok is. He’s been that way as long as you’ve known him—at least since that time in the fifth grade when his mother once gave him twenty bucks and told him to call the pizza place and order dinner for the two of you and he totally balked, resigning the two of you to toaster oven Ellio’s that tasted way too similar to skating rink pizza to be a coincidence.

Which is why he balks again as soon as the two of you reach the front desk of the resort, shoving you in front of him to talk to the man behind it.

Maybe it’s the raging pansexual inside Hobi rather than his uncharacteristic fear of talking to literally anyone, but you totally get it. You don’t really want to talk to this man, either. He’s ash blond and bathed in golden light, highlighting his already golden skin to look completely ethereal, and he’s got a smug look on his face that tells you he knows exactly how intimidatingly good-looking he is.

Still, you’re not easily shaken. Jung Hoseok is your best friend—and fake boyfriend, lest you’ve forgotten—for fuck’s sake. You’ve committed violence for him. Golden Desk Boy is going to have to try a whole lot harder than this. “Hiii,” you say, lips painted in a saccharine smile. God, you’re so fake. “We’re checking in under Jung.”

The man—whose name badge says Jimin—returns your fake smile. “Great! Thank you so much for joining us for your stay.”

You take a moment to look around while Jimin pulls up your reservation, purposefully skipping over Hoseok’s form. He’s not doing anything, just sitting in a plush armchair as he pretends to read the newspaper, but you feel the flames of annoyance licking at your heels nonetheless, because you wouldn’t be here to begin with if it weren’t for Hoseok and his subordinate micromanager, and what kind of weird place has he brought you to?

Everything is white. Not in the sterile kind of way, because the monotony is broken up with lush greenery and the occasional piece of teak furniture, but there’s enough white for you to wonder if it’s some sort of statement. The floors and walls are white. All the non-wooden furniture is white. Jimin’s silk uniform and teeth are both blindingly white. Not that you’d seen many people since you stepped into the lobby, but the ones you had seen had been wearing white, too.

Jimin looks up from the computer screen and you’re almost surprised to find his irises aren’t white, too. Maybe it’s rude, but he seriously gives you the creeps. “Everything is ready for your stay, Mr. and Mrs. Jung. I’ve requested someone come to retrieve your luggage.”

You gawk. “Oh, we’re not—we’re not married.”

“Oh?” Jimin asks, one perfect eyebrow arched as his eyes twinkle with intrigue.

“Yeah,” you insist. “Not that I need to explain my morals and ethics to a stranger, but I don’t believe in the patriarchy.”

“Really? That’s great,” Jimin lies. This man is overflowing with shithead energy. “Neither do I.”

You scoff. “Oh, sure. That’s why you just assumed my bes—my partner and I were married.”

“That’s what the reservation says.” He looks very amused now. Kim Namjoon is going to receive a very lengthy text message in approximately ten minutes. “I do apologize for this mistake. I’ll make sure to correct it right away.” Amusement slowly morphs into a challenge. “Is there a new last name I can put on the reservation for you instead?”

Call it a hunch, but you think it best to not give this person any of your identifying information. “No.”

“Shall I leave it as Jung, then?”

It physically pains you to say this, but you manage to choke out a very strained, “Yes.”

“Fantastic,” Jimin sing-songs. “I’m very glad we were able to sort out this issue for you, Mr. and Mrs. Jung.”

Choke on a dick and die is what you want to say (for no reason, really; it isn’t like Jimin’s been outright cruel to you), but as much as Hoseok avoids people—and avoids confrontation even more—he appears at your side, looking every bit the sunshine after a storm he always is. “Everything okay?” he asks, placing a gentle hand at the small of your back. “…Dear,” he tacks on as Jimin’s eyes study the two of you.

“Everything’s great!” you chirp, determined to cast away Jimin’s obvious suspicions. “Jimin here says someone’s coming to get our bags.” Another fake, saccharine smile. Like sweet’n low. “He’s been very helpful.”

Everything’s great, in you-speak, translates to I once, foolishly, thought Kim Namjoon was on my side. I now see the errors of my ways and I demand justice and revenge. Fool you once (getting roped into being Hoseok’s fake partner to come to a weird wellness retreat), shame on Namjoon. Fool you twice (allowing him to book the reservation and label you a married couple), shame on you. There won’t be a third time, because Kim Namjoon’s days are numbered once you’re both in the same country again.

“Will you be needing a tour?” Jimin asks, voice tinkling like expensive crystal.

You grasp Hoseok’s hand far too tight to be believable and wave off the receptionist. “No, thank you! Just a map will do. That’s how we met, you know—at a… map… class.”

“A map class?” Jimin parrots. “Riveting.” He smiles. Sweet’n low.

“It sure was!” You turn to Hobi. “Wasn’t it? …Babe,” you choke out. The word tastes so gross on your tongue.

When you look up at him, Hoseok’s wearing that trademark expression of his: the one where his eyes are too wide, tight-lipped smile stretched too thin. Hoseok’s convinced it’s convincing. It isn’t. It’s terrifying and makes your skin feel itchy from the inside. “Mmm, yep,” he agrees easily. “Love a good map. Some good… cartography.” He pinches three fingers together because he’d seen it on The Sopranos and it’s just a thing he does now.

Sometimes you forget Hoseok is rich-rich.

Of course Namjoon had mentioned booking the trip on the company card and of course you know what someone like him having access to a company card implies. It’d implied you were going on an all-expenses-paid trip on some massive company’s dime. But, perhaps naively, you’d just envisioned a fancy hotel room at some resort near a beach. Shoreline bonfires, tiny portions of food on massive plates when you order room service, colorful drinks with tiny umbrellas and a skewer of fruit stuck inside, three-digit price tag.

Instead, the two of you follow the map to a secluded, private house. There’s a balcony. The shower is made entirely of glass and surrounded by the lush greenery outside. The exterior wall in the bedroom is also made of glass and affords you panoramic views of the beach and forest and everything in between. The thread count of the Egyptian cotton sheets is disgustingly low.

(Which, speaking of Hoseok and all his money—he’d been the one to teach you about thread counts to begin with. You’d wrongfully assumed the higher the number the better, but Hoseok had gently grabbed the scratchy 1500 count sheets out of your hands with a pained grimace and handed you a set of Supima cotton sheets with a startlingly low thread count instead.

Rich people have everything backwards.)

Truth be told, it’s exactly the kind of place you’d see on some influencer’s Instagram account. The kind of place they’d delude you into thinking you could afford, too, because having your influencer boyfriend take a picture of you sinking into the lush white duvet and plastering a $10 filter on it is more important than affording your student loan payments.

But you digress.

Either way, you’ll have to send a thank you card to the board of directors.

Hoseok, on the other hand, balks for the second time. Takes one look at the singular bed and completely shuts down, Windows sound effects practically blaring over an invisible loudspeaker above his head once again. “Where’s the other bed?” he asks stupidly.

You snort. Stash your suitcase in the corner. You’ll unpack it later… or next week. Whenever you get around to it, really. “What other bed?”

“You know, like. The other one.”

“There’s only one, Seok. Why would there be two? This is a couple’s retreat.”

He pouts. “Not every couple sleeps together, you know. My grandparents have separate bedrooms.”

“No offense, bud, but your grandfather also wears diapers.”

“So?”

“So there might be a correlation, is what I’m saying.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t sleep in the same bed as your husband of seventy years just because he might pee the bed sometimes?”

You level him with a look. Unpacking doesn’t sound like such a bad idea anymore. “I’m well past the age where I could conceivably be married to someone for seventy years, so it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re not even thirty yet.”

You click your tongue. “Hoseok, you of all people know I never expected to live past the age of thirteen. There’s no way I’m making it to ninety-seven.”

“You only thought you were gonna die when you were thirteen because you had your appendix removed.” You give him another look. “And you got your tonsils removed that same year.” Another one. “What?” he huffs. “What’d I forget?”

“That time we were playing volleyball in gym class and you spiked the ball right in my face and broke my nose.”

“Not a life-threatening injury.”

“Thirteen was a really hard year for me,” you retort, overdramatic as always. “It’s a miracle I survived.”

“Oh my god—”

“A miracle, Hobi.”

With a disapproving shake of his head, he’s off to unpack his luggage, because Hoseok is filthy rich and has expensive clothes that, according to him, cannot, under any circumstances, go hours without being hung up properly. You’ve never seen a silk shirt with a wrinkle in it, let alone a wrinkle on any article of Hoseok’s clothing, but you learned a long time ago it’s much less stressful to just let him be neurotic about his wardrobe.

You, on the other hand, are going to do no such thing. You’ll live out of your suitcase for as long as you can get away with it, so you flop face-first onto the bed, careful to leave your shoes dangling off the edge. Hoseok’s already going to give you shit about—

“Yah!” he wails, his fifteenth white button-down shirt draped haphazardly off a hanger. “No street clothes in the bed!”

You roll your eyes. “Street clothes? Who says shit like that? Most people just have clothes.”

“You’ve been wearing them all day,” Hoseok argues, because there’s very little he loves more than an argument. “They’re dirty, and now they’ve made the bed dirty, too.”

However, to the detriment of Hoseok’s well-being, you love arguing, too. You look down at both your clothes and the pristine duvet and vaguely gesture at both. “Ah, yes. So filthy. The bed—which you’d nearly had an aneurysm over sharing with me not even ten minutes ago, might I add—is so dirty. How will we ever be able to sleep in it?”

Watching Hoseok mentally tabulate through the Seven Stages of Grief is the most entertainment you’ve had in hours. Jaw clenched, he simply stares at you for a few seconds before leveling his voice and repeating, “No street clothes in the bed.” Then he tacks on a please that’s clearly an afterthought. “Didn’t you bring loungewear? Can’t you just wear that instead?”

You did, in fact, bring loungewear. It would’ve been irresponsible not to, considering the length of your stay and proximity to paradise, but stubbornness seems to be the flavor of the day so you just shrug and toe your shoes off. “I’m not going to change. We don’t have long before we have that welcome dinner, anyway. I’m not going to put on loungewear only to change into dinner-wear and then come back, shower, and change again into pajamas.”

Hoseok’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What welcome dinner?”

“Do you not read?” you tease. “There was a whole itinerary attached to the map. We have a welcome dinner tonight with that guy Namjoon’s in love with.”

“Which one?”

You click your tongue. “The guy who runs this place.” Then you furrow your brow. “What do you mean ‘which one’?”

“Nothing. Just—you know how Namjoon is. He falls in love at least eight separate times whenever he goes to the gardening store.”

“Guess he doesn’t herb his enthusiasm.” Hoseok groans loudly as you point finger guns at him.

He lobs a mated pair of socks at your head that bounce off your ass instead. “Please just get ready for dinner. I can’t do this.”

To put it mildly, Kim Seokjin is fucking weird.

Hoseok hadn’t noticed. He’d taken one look at him and his mischievous eyes and welcoming smile and dove right in, engaging him in endless conversation about god-knows-what. That’s just how Hoseok is. Aside from his justifiable distrust of Tinder dates, he makes and keeps friends effortlessly. It’s the sunshine in him, your mother always used to say, because Hoseok was always the sun and everyone else were sunflowers, desperate to bask in him and reflect his light.

(Namjoon has always said it’s because he’s an Aquarius. You don’t know what that means, but you assume it’ll click once you buy a few crystals and start exclusively listening to Fleetwood Mac.)

And that has always been okay—good, even. He’s never lost that innate goodness, even when he’d been placed at the head of a billion-dollar corporation where ruthlessness is encouraged. Hoseok’s edges remain rounded and soft; he emphasizes a need for kindness, shows it has a place amongst the cold, calculated world of business. Really, it’s great. You can’t be more proud to call him your best friend.

However.

It doesn’t mean Hoseok isn’t a fucking idiot sometimes.

Because he’s good, his first assumption is always that others are good, too. No matter how many times you’ve grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him away from a fire, his first instinct is still to reach out and touch it.

His first serious girlfriend, back in high school? Yeah, you’d warned him about her. Told him she was messing around with a kid on the soccer team on the side, but Hoseok had insisted she’d never do that. “She’s into embroidery,” he’d said, as if that excused someone from being a two-timing cheat.

That guy he’d been partnered with for a serious project in business school? You’d listened to Hoseok talk about him over Skype once and suggested he find a new one. Kept silent as he unloaded on you a few weeks later after the guy had fucked him over.

You’d even advised him against hiring Namjoon. Couldn’t fathom why Hoseok would even be considering hiring someone who showed up to an interview hours early. Obviously he hadn’t listened, and look where it’s gotten the two of you.

It isn’t that you’ve got a sixth sense for assholes or anything. It’s just that Hoseok’s such a terrible judge of character that it makes you look like Sherlock Holmes in comparison.

So it comes as no surprise to you when Seokjin excuses himself for a moment and Hoseok turns to you with hearts in his eyes only to be greeted by your Hoseok you’re doing that thing again where you put people on a pedestal who are not to be trusted look.

“No,” he dismisses immediately. “Him? No way.”

Your nostrils flare. “Hoseok. Don’t be an idiot about this. He’s weird.”

“He’s just eccentric. Aren’t all these New Age hippie types like that? The guy runs a wellness retreat for fuck’s sake—of course he’s weird.”

“His vibes are off,” you retort, which admittedly sounds like a New Age hippie thing to say, but the longer Hoseok insists you’re wrong, the more you begin to wonder if you are. The two of you had been sent here by Namjoon, and he’s easily one of the weirdest people you’ve ever met. Maybe Hoseok’s right.

You allow yourself two minutes of self-doubt. Then you’re shaking your head and poking your tongue into the fat of your cheek because you know bad vibes when you feel them and Kim Seokjin has them in spades.

The man in question returns a few moments later, two new men in tow: a taller one with a boxy smile and a tan and a shorter one with a scowl that looks permanent but not on purpose, like it’d just shown up on his face one day and forgot to leave. The grumpy-looking one sits across from Hoseok, looking every bit as unsure as you, while the other one takes the empty seat to his left, right in front of you.

“I’m Taehyung,” he says, ass barely in the chair before he’s leaning over the table to shake your hand. His feels like a hand that’s shaken many others—firm, warm, soft. Feels a lot like shaking Hoseok’s hand might feel, an importance simmering beneath the surface, but you’ve never had a reason to do so. “This is Yoongi.” Taehyung gestures to the man beside him. “He doesn’t talk much but you get used to him, I think.”

“You think?” Hoseok laughs, an eyebrow quirked, fully in his element. Words soft, edges softer. Hoseok was born for these types of moments. Meeting strangers, knowing what to say.

Yoongi stays quiet. Barely looks around the room, which is a feat in itself. Seokjin had invited all of you to dinner in a grand dining hall, walls tall and floors gleaming, both stark white like the rest of the resort. Immediately sat at the head of the table like some sort of king, and you would’ve thought something of it, maybe looked at Hoseok and mouthed what’s this guy’s deal? But then he placed his napkin neatly across his lap, looked at the two of you, smiled dazzlingly, and said, “Is cereal soup?”

It had all gone downhill from there, really.

Now Taehyung and Yoongi are seated across from you and Hoseok and Yoongi still hasn’t said a word and you’re hoping maybe, just maybe, he’s also picking up on how weird all of this is. Taehyung has that exuberant optimism that reminds you a lot of Hoseok so you disregard him as a comrade immediately. Just the kind of guy to love any and everyone, oblivious to bad vibes. No, Yoongi’s the one you need on your side and it’s glaringly obvious.

One small hiccup, though: he really doesn’t talk.

Like, at all.

Taehyung talks enough for the both of them, endearing everyone with a smile and an endless supply of stories told in that deep baritone voice of his. Every now and then he’ll turn to Yoongi and say isn’t that right, dumpling? and Yoongi just hums an acknowledgment. Doesn’t seem put off by the pet name at all, despite looking like someone that’d be put off by pet names.

They’re cute. You mouth as much to Hoseok and he just smiles at you in return, a soft little thing. Yoongi and Taehyung are the kind of couple who give off we’ve been together for decades energy even though they don’t look much older than you. Just two people completely at ease with one another, and it does something to your stomach. All small, hidden touches and words communicated through looks alone. Best friends and lovers. Partners both in crime and in life.

It’s a sweet moment.

It’s a moment completely negated by Seokjin’s booming voice at the head of the table. “Well, this was fun, wasn’t it? Let’s move to the lounge.”

Yoongi doesn’t look to Taehyung. Yoongi looks to you, and it’s only because you’d looked at him instead of Hoseok that you notice the subtle downturn of the corners of his mouth, the slight pinch between his brows. He doesn’t outright ask it, but there’s a question in his body language: What’s this guy’s deal?

It’s one you’d also like an answer to.

Yoongi keeps his eyes on you the entire time the five of you talk in the lounge. Well, Taehyung’s once again speaking for both of them, hands and arms gesturing wildly all around him, and Yoongi seems more than content to sit in silence. Seokjin and Hoseok chime in where they should, asking questions and emphasizing words and generally being agreeable. You, on the other hand, sit next to Hoseok and try to exude the same energy Taehyung and Yoongi do. The we’re so in love and comfortable with each other we don’t even need to touch type. The we only post selfies together three times a year because we don’t need to flaunt our relationship variety.

But, as all inevitable things inevitably do, the conversation moves to relationships. Seokjin sneaks it in under the guise of getting to know everyone, and Taehyung takes the bait immediately, seemingly always looking for a reason to show off Yoongi and talk him up. You hate that it’s endearing. You hate that you want something like it—someone enamored with you without preamble. A just because kind of love. Something solid and bone-deep.

“It was totally by accident,” Taehyung’s saying as your attention drifts back to him. Not soon enough, because he’s clearly halfway through a story and you have no idea what the plot is. “We’d both been backpacking through Europe, and I was trying to check in at this tiny hostel in Thessaloniki but my Greek is terrible, understandably, so I was really struggling. Trying to tell the poor woman behind the desk my name and that I’d booked a private room, and she just kept shrugging and looking at me like I was crazy. It was, like, midnight, so I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep, and then out of nowhere this guy”—He jerks his thumb at Yoongi, who remains silent and still—“just comes up behind me and starts speaking fluent Greek.”

Hoseok’s eyes widen. “Fluent Greek? Wow,” he says, eyebrows disappearing beneath his fringe, “that’s really impressive.”

“You have no idea,” Taehyung continues to gush. “He speaks, like, fifteen languages fluently, I swear to god. Anyway, turns out the hostel never received my reservation, which makes sense because I’d tried booking it from the top of a mountain. Yoongi took pity on me and let me share his room since they were fully booked.”

Seokjin smiles and touches a hand to his heart. It’s completely performative but it works—Taehyung looks like he’s just passed some silent test and won the lottery. “Adorable. And so noble, Yoongi. Not many people would do that for a stranger.”

Yoongi shrugs.

Undeterred, Seokjin turns his attention to you and Hoseok. “How about the two of you? Set up by friends? Blind date?” His beady eyes are studying you both diligently, eyes raking over your face for the tiniest tell. “Childhood friends turned lovers?”

Hoseok coughs.

“We met at a cartography class,” you explain, voice even despite Seokjin’s prolonged eye contact making you want to lock yourself in the nearest bathroom. Hoseok had nearly given the two of you away, and it was all you could do to recall whatever bullshit you had tried selling Jimin to cover your asses.

Yoongi’s fighting off a smile. Taehyung looks enthralled. “Cartography? Whoa, now that’s something you definitely don’t hear everyday.”

“A lost art, if you ask me,” Seokjin says. “Are either of you geographists, then?”

Hoseok tenses, fidgeting ceasing immediately. The two of you hadn’t talked about this—about how honest you wanted to be, how much would be fabricated—so while this is typically the kind of environment he’d thrive in, you pluck the reins from his hands and take over. “Double majored back in undergrad. Geography and psych.”

“Interesting combo.”

You nod. Not the first time you’d heard that. “Well, there are things you want to do and things you should do, so I did both.”

“And what was it you wanted to do?”

You wave your hand, gesturing vaguely. “Ah, you know. You go into university with all these aspirations, have all these starry-eyed ideas. You’re gonna be someone, you’re gonna help people, you’re gonna make an impact and travel all over and be super important. People are gonna pay to hear you speak and all that bullshit.” Hoseok’s looking at you—you can feel it, but you can also see the blurred outline of his profile. “What did I want to do? Something in human geography, maybe cultural or political geography.”

“The psych degree?” Seokjin continues prodding, and you find you don’t mind it. Hoseok certainly never had. Was always far too busy doing important business things on the opposite side of the country.

“Picked it up about halfway through. Figured I should have a back-up plan in case I wound up being the only geopolitician working at Starbucks.” Your fingers start picking at your pants even though there’s nothing to grab onto. You’d only packed your best, keenly aware of the standards required to be in Jung Hoseok’s inner circle. “A lot of the research and analysis courses overlapped, so I just… did it.”

“That’s very ambitious.” Seokjin’s compliment feels like some weird kind of approval, like another unspoken test Taehyung would grin over passing. “And now? You’d mentioned undergrad.”

“Started a post-bacc in GIS since I liked doing research. Hence the cartography class.”

Hence the cartography class, as if that’s the end of it and there’s nothing else to say. Like you hadn’t dropped out of that to pursue a Master’s in psychology and maybe med school or a PhD to follow, because your mother would be proud of someone with a doctorate, right? You could finally stop hearing—

Did you hear Hoseokie got an internship at Google? They pay $8,000 a month!

Did you hear Hoseokie graduated at the top of his class? His mother said he didn’t even have to apply to any MBA programs, they recruited him! He’s torn between Stanford and the University of Penn. Isn’t that a nice problem to have?

Did you hear that Hoseokie finished his program early? He’s so smart. His parents must be so proud of him.

Did you hear Hoseokie’s moving back? Just an associate vice president position for now, but his mother says there’s already talks of him being promoted to CEO within the next few years.

That’s not to say you weren’t proud of him or that you were resentful. You’ve always been Hoseok’s biggest fan, but Hoseok had moved across the country and still casted a shadow so large it was impossible to not be swallowed up by it, and it’s hard to have all the things you want to hear be said about someone else.

So, yeah, hence the cartography class.

“What about you, Hoseok? You’ve been quiet.”

Hoseok’s never quiet. When you turn to look at him, he’s already staring back. There’s no perpetual million-dollar smile, no wrinkles at the corner of his eyes from laughing too much, smiling too much, enjoying life too much. There’s just a concerned look that you don’t really know what to do with, because you’ve spent so much of your life worrying over Hoseok—over his concerning judge of character, his inability to cook, those kids on the schoolbus, his diet and now his organs—that things feel out of sorts now that the script is flipped.

It takes him a while to come back down to earth, realize someone has asked him a question. “Business,” is all he says.

He’s still staring.

Things are tense.

Weird-tense, because things are never tense between you and Hoseok. Not even back in high school when you’d threatened his then-girlfriend, the one who was cheating on him, and she ratted you out. Hoseok had shown up all red in the face, talked a lot about what would happen if you ruined things for him, but you’d just said alright, Hobi, whatever you say and things had gone back to normal.

But back in your overpriced rental house, things are definitely weird-tense.

“You never told me any of that.”

Ah. You shrug, toweling off your hair after your shower, and rifle through your suitcase for suitable pajamas. “You never asked.”

“I thought the map story was bullshit. You never—you double majored?”

Isn’t this so typical, you think. You could write a biography on Hoseok, all his accomplishments and dreams and all those silly little subplots that connect at the end, and he didn’t even know your college major. Majors. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

In the bathroom, you go through your skincare routine on autopilot and floss and brush your teeth. Try to rid yourself of the taste of disappointment. Smear cold cream under your eyes and try to pretend the sting is from the scent and not welling tears, because this is not something to cry over. This is stupid and unimportant, and you now have two and a half degrees in psychology that tell you how to deal with it.

But Hoseok’s reluctant to let it go. Wants to talk it to death when you’re more than happy to never discuss it again. You’re twenty-seven, meaning you’ve had at least five years to accept the fact that your mother had given all her pride to Hoseok instead. You’re not really keen on spending another five years feeling inadequate. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He appears in the doorway of the bathroom looking positively distressed. “Mom had only told me about the psych degree and that you were trying to get into UCLA for your Master’s. She never said anything about the geography degree.”

You just shrug. “Things you want to do and things you should, right?”

Hoseok doesn’t buy it. “Was telling me what was going on in your life not something you wanted to do, then?” He looks stung.

You’re tired, still a little fucked up from the jet lag and sitting through a bizarre dinner and serving yourself up on a silver platter to an even more bizarre man that now knew something about you that not even Hoseok had known. “I’m going to sleep,” you say, because you’re even more loose-lipped than usual when tired and prone to irritability, and provoking an argument on the first night of a month-long vacation is not something you’re going to do.

And Hoseok—

Hoseok must get it, you think, because he seems to deflate. Just sighs, shoulders hunched, before he steps aside to let you out of the bathroom. No argument, no thinly-veiled threats, no guilt-trips. Resignation: the same kind Namjoon had spoken about when he’d relayed the story of how the wellness retreat came to be.

A resigned Hoseok is probably a dangerous Hoseok, but you’re too exhausted to give a shit. You’ll strategize in the morning, come up with a new plan.

Except the morning comes and Hoseok doesn’t mention it at all.

He doesn’t say anything about it for the next three days, actually, which are all the same and go like this:

On the morning of day two, Hoseok reluctantly wakes you up just after six. There’s a small offering of fruit and coffee waiting for you on a tray that you promptly ignore in lieu of going back to sleep, which lasts until approximately 6:06am when Hoseok wakes you again. The two of you are scheduled for a morning yoga session at seven-o’clock, which is supposedly mandatory and can’t be canceled.

Taehyung takes the mat next to you, leaning over to ask, “Have you ever done this before?” with a slightly panicked expression on this face.

“Every Saturday morning back home,” you answer. Taehyung chuckles nervously, and your experience becomes painfully clear when you’re nailing your Sugarcane pose and everyone else topples over sideways. Yoongi doesn’t make a sound as he hits the floor, and he’s so quiet that your instructor misses him completely when they fret around the room helping everyone else.

You’re so distracted by helping Yoongi yourself that you miss the deep furrow of Hoseok’s brow. And the crestfallen look on his face. Just another thing he hadn’t known.

After you survive yoga, the two of you sit through an awkward breakfast with Taehyung, Certified Chatterbox, and Yoongi, Not One. Taehyung doesn’t comment on Hoseok’s newfound quietude, which is a little surprising, but Yoongi quirks an eyebrow at you that makes your coffee suddenly taste stale.

Between the hours of nine and one, Hoseok disappears to go to the spa or the gym or the gift shop, because he is literally incapable of not spending money. You’re waiting for him to realize how weird it is for a wellness retreat to sell souvenirs but he never brings it up, just strolls back into the room each time and dumps a concerning amount of magnets into his suitcase.

(You wonder if any of them are for your mother. You wonder what she’ll think about this—you and Hoseok going to a couple’s retreat together, playing pretend. You wonder if bagging someone like Hoseok would finally make her proud of you and how shallow that is.)

After lunch, which is barely less awkward than breakfast, the four of you are ushered into a so-called Meditation Clinic, hosted by a very muscular guy with a baby face and a lot of tattoos. His name is Jungkook, and he nearly sends Hoseok into Sexuality Crisis Episode No. 2. Hoseok doesn’t do a damn second of meditating for three days, just stares at the wall looking like a baby who’d just been tricked into sucking on a lemon. Taehyung chatters away at you the entire time, completely oblivious to Jungkook’s annoyed stare. You share an exasperated look with Yoongi on your way out.

Hoseok returns to your rental home on the evening of day three looking scandalized. Apparently, this is the result of him running into Jimin, who’d offered to read and analyze his birth chart for him. Apparently, this is Jimin’s second job when there’s no new check-ins to harass. Apparently, Hoseok has been “read for filth” by “the stars” and “doesn’t wish to discuss it further.”

(Interestingly, Jimin corners you not long after. There’s a dangerous twinkle in his eye as he says, “Curious?” and gestures to a small room just off the lounge.

“The curtain’s kind of corny, isn’t it?” you say, scoffing as one strand of beads smacks you in the side of the head. “Like, this all feels very mysterious carnival tent and not billion-dollar resort, y’know?”

Jimin takes a seat behind a large desk, completely void of decoration. You’re not sure what you expected—some tarot cards, maybe a crystal ball to sell the illusion—but it’s empty. “You must have Leo placements,” he mutters.

“Moon and Mars, actually. Lucky guess.”

He gestures for you to take the seat in front of him. “Mm, not really luck, they’re just really good at lying.”

“And what am I lying about?”

Jimin ignores your question. Instead, he cocks his head to the side and says, “When’s your birthday?”

“Aren’t you the astrologer? Take a guess.” Jimin just stares, looking endlessly amused. Eventually you huff and answer. “March 15th.”

Overdramatic as always, Jimin fake-gags. “A Pisces sun with a Leo moon? Horrendous, truly. How do you function?”

“Stunted, clearly.”

He actually laughs at this, rewarding you with a brilliant smile and an endearingly crooked front tooth. “No matter.” He shakes his head, blond locks falling elegantly around his face as if arranged by the gods themselves. “You may have a truly tragic sun-moon pairing, but it bodes well for you and that neurotic mess of a best friend you’re fake-dating.”

You choke so hard Jimin actually offers you a glass of water.)

Dinners are spent as a five-piece. Seokjin asks more idiotic questions, such as are eyebrows considered facial hair, which prompts a very deep exhale from Yoongi, and did Adam and Eve have bellybuttons, which sends Taehyung into an existential crisis he’s yet to recover from.

Sometimes there are bonfires on the beach at night during which Jungkook plays an acoustic guitar and sings like an angel. Hoseok is conspicuously absent during these.

He’s also absent during your nightly routine. You shower, smear your skincare all over your face, and brush your teeth alone. You change into your pajamas and crawl into your side of the bed alone. By night three, you’re so annoyed you build a pillow wall between the two of you that you instruct Hoseok, under threat of bodily harm, not to demolish.

On the morning of day five, you’re awake before the sun. You sit in the darkness for a while, listening to Hoseok’s soft breaths on the other side of the pillow wall. He hasn’t gone five days without talking to you in twenty years. Even when he’d threatened you over his high school girlfriend, you were back in his good graces within 48 hours, and all of this for what? Because your mother is kind of an asshole and you’re kind of jealous and Hoseok is kind of self-centered sometimes?

“Hobi,” you say, leaning over the wall to nudge his shoulder. “Hobi, wake up.”

He doesn’t budge, mouth hanging open as he continues snoring quietly, these little hiccups of breath every now and then. All you can do is sigh. “Hoseok.” Nothing. “Jung Hoseok,” you try again, voice hardened into a baseless threat. He keeps snoring.

You groan, run your hands over your face in exasperation. Stupidly, you’d assumed that Hoseok would be easier to wake up now that he’s a Very Important Person worth millions of dollars. Clearly he’s not. So you throw the duvet off your legs and stumble to the bathroom in the dark. Brush your teeth and wash your face and throw on a loose long-sleeved shirt and a pair of yoga pants. It’s the weekend, so you’re free to do as you please, no mandated schedule, and you know exactly who you’re going to see.

Unsurprisingly, Taehyung is on the beach, cross-legged in the center of a large blanket close to the water but far enough away that the tide isn’t a concern. His curls are blowing gently in the breeze and every now and then he lets out a huff as he tries to flick them out of his eyes. No wonder Yoongi took pity on him back in that hostel in Thessaloniki. You’ve barely known him a week and are already hopelessly endeared by him.

“Good morning,” he says, eyes closed. Even the sun is barely awake this early, but it spills across Taehyung’s cheeks in dusky, golden rays nonetheless. “The beach is beautiful at this hour, isn’t it?”

Ah, so Taehyung’s one of those. Chatty at all hours, just like Hoseok. You groan. “Yeah, sure.”

“I have a thermos of coffee if you want some.”

“You just carry around thermoses of coffee?”

Taehyung laughs. “No. I don’t drink it, but I always make some in the morning and put it in a thermos in case today’s the day Yoongi decides to wake up before noon and join me.”

You eye the empty space next to him. “I’m guessing today’s not the day.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “After forcing him to wake up at 6am to do yoga the last few days? I might never see him again.”

“It’d be deserved, in his defense.”

Taehyung seems to think on this. Has a laugh just as airy as the gentle ocean wind, one that makes you feel like you’re the funniest person in the world. So much like Hoseok. You wonder if you’re like Yoongi. If you’re just as closed off but more talkative. You wonder if there’s a reason Yoongi holds his cards so close to his chest or if he simply sees no reason for anyone to know him. He’s got Taehyung and fifteen languages and a lifetime’s worth of stories, what more could he need? “You’re probably right. Where’s your other half?”

“Also asleep.”

“Wow,” Taehyung deadpans, “there are parallels everywhere.”

You don’t know him well enough to know how he means it. If it’s sardonic and taking the piss out of that sort of thing the way Yoongi would mean it, or if he’s genuine how Hoseok would be. So you just hum a maybe-agreement and stare out at the ocean.

Truth be told, you’re not sure why Taehyung was the one you wanted to find. He just seems like the type to know a lot about relationships, people. Seems like someone who’d meet and befriend more people in a day than you would in five years, so someone like that’s gotta have some sort of answers.

“How long have you and Yoongi been together?”

“Oh. A long time. I was nineteen when I went to Greece and Yoongi was twenty-one, but it was such bad timing, you know? Like, I was only two months into a year-long trip, and Yoongi has to be dragged into everything kicking and screaming, so we didn’t reconnect for over a year after we met.”

“That must’ve been hard.”

Taehyung smiles: small, tender, fond. “A little, yeah, but I think that sort of stuff is inconsequential in the long run. What’s a year’s worth of distance when you’ve got the rest of your lives?” He shifts on the blanket, a frown dragging down the corners of his mouth. “Although I went to Australia a month later and got bit by this huge fucking spider, so I guess the rest of my life was questionable for a while. In that case, yeah, it would’ve been really hard.”

You hum again, and in a need to fill the silence, Taehyung asks, “What about you and Hoseok?”

“What about us?”

“How long have you been together?”

We’re not, really, sits on the tip of your tongue. Jimin has already seen straight through the bullshit, so why not Taehyung, too? What’s the worst that can happen—they kick you out because you’re not a proper couple? What does that even mean? You’ve known Hoseok for twenty years. You watched him grow into a successful, kind, intelligent adult from a stupid-as-fuck eight-year-old. You’ve watched him fall in love and get his heart broken and piece it back together again. You know his takeout orders and his favorite color and the movies he still cries over but lies and says he doesn’t. You know the smell of his mother’s perfume when she squeals and hugs you like you’re her own. You’re one of two-hundred followers on Hoseok’s private Instagram account—the one you and Namjoon and Hoseok’s sister always join forces to bully him on when he tries posting a thirst trap.

You know what Hoseok looks like when he cries. You know what he’s like when he’s vulnerable and insecure and you know how to be a pillar for him when he’s like that, and he knows the same about you.

Some couples don’t have half of that, so what does it mean or even matter if your coupling is proper? Isn’t what you have enough?

You sigh. “We grew up together. I’ve known him for twenty years.”

“Oh.” Taehyung sucks in a breath. “I thought you’d said—”

“Yeah,” you interject. “We’re not, like, romantically involved.” Another sigh. “It’s a long story.”

Taehyung just smiles, looks at you with those butter-soft eyes, and you’re diving into twenty years of history and backstory. You tell him about punching the kid on the bus. You tell him about Hoseok’s first serious girlfriend in high school and how it made your stomach hurt—

(“Because you had a crush on him?”

“What? No.”

“Hm. Okay.”)

—and you tell him about your mother and all her misplaced pride. He laughs at every story you tell him about Namjoon and how you and Hoseok wound up at this weird wellness retreat. He stops laughing when you tell him that you and Hoseok haven’t spoken properly in days, and his eyebrows get very serious when you admit it’s the reason you came to find him.

“You just look like someone who might know how to help me fix it,” you finish.

Taehyung tries—and fails—to not look pleased as punch at this. “I’m generally very unhelpful. Well, Yoongi says I’m not-not helpful, but sometimes I try to help too much and wind up making things worse.” You shoot him a dubious look. “I won’t do that this time, though, I promise! Please consider me your official relationship fixer.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea anymore.”

“It probably isn’t, if I’m being totally honest, but if I can manage to make Min Yoongi fall in love with me, I’m extremely overconfident I can do just about anything.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

He claps his hands together. “Great! We can start with you apologizing and telling him you’ve been acting out due to temporary insanity on the basis of being in love with him for years and never saying anything.”

“Excuse me—”

“It’s best to be extremely honest about these sorts of things as to leave no room for misinterpretation or misunderstandings,” Taehyung says, tone condescending like you’re a child though it’s working overtime to not sound that way. At your slack jaw, Taehyung’s eyes grow wide. “Have you seriously never thought about it?”

“Me and Hoseok?”

Of course you’ve thought about it, it was just dismissed immediately each time. You love Hoseok; he’s the most important person in your life, and that’s exactly why you shooed those intrusive thoughts away every time they crept up. You’re not generally one to overthink on consequences, but Hoseok is always an idea you’ve treated with kiddie gloves. Something delicate. Something placed in an enclosure with 21mm glass walls and eighteen security alarms. So, sure, you’ve thought about it in the same way you’ve thought about winning the lottery or telling your PhD advisor to fuck off and moving to some remote island paradise where there’s always someone to wait on you hand and foot.

Of course you’ve thought about you and Hoseok, in the same way you think about all inevitable things (like the heat death of the universe) and also impossibilities, both wistful and staunch.

“Yeah,” you eventually answer. “Of course I have.”

Taehyung blinks owlishly. “I thought for sure you were gonna deny it.” Then the smile is back and it makes his eyes glitter like tiny stars. “But that’s great! The first step is admitting you have a problem, or whatever. Anyway! Do you still have feelings? Yoongi thinks I’m bad at reading people”—Yoongi is right, you think—“but I’ve seen the way he looks at me a million times, and sometimes that’s the same way Hoseok looks at you. So I think you should tell him.”

Snorting, you turn your gaze to the ocean. Even the water seems to still be sleepy at this hour, the waves small and gentle as they lap against the shore. “Maybe later on. Getting rejected a few days into a month-long trip doesn’t really sound like my idea of fun.”

Face scrunched up in disgust, Taehyung whines, “You wouldn’t! You’re gonna waste all this time because you think you’d get rejected when in actuality all you’re doing is wasting some really great glass walls to fuck against.”

You blanch. You can say, with one hundred percent conviction, that you’ve never thought about sleeping with Hoseok. Okay, so that’s not entirely true. There was the one time you had to defend him from Rose Emoji and Hammer and Sickle Twitter when they threatened to eat him and one person suggested sparing him because, excessive wealth aside, he had big dick energy. That’d given you pause. Did Hoseok have a big dick?

“No way,” you retort, “Hoseok is like a Ken doll. Completely smooth from the waist down. Dickless.”

Taehyung heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Another L for the gay community.”

Hoseok sleeps until noon.

You’ve already washed the sea salt from your hair and returned to the rental house with your own small haul of gift shop magnets by the time he stirs awake, groggy and looking worse for wear. “Wha’ time s’it?” he slurs, voice far too deep for you to remain unaffected.

“Just after twelve,” you answer. “I can make you some coffee if you want.”

All you get in response is a muffled groan, Hoseok’s dandelion bed-head disappearing under the fluffy duvet once again. You’ve known him long enough to know that means yes, to know he takes his coffee with far too much cream and sugar, the liquid something close to bone white by the time he’s done adding and mixing.

You set the mug on his nightstand and sit on the edge of the bed, leaning over to peel down the duvet and scratch at his scalp. “Coffee’s ready, sunshine.” Eyes still sealed shut, you move your fingers lower to tickle at his neck. “C’mon, Hobi, you’re pissing away another beautiful day in paradise.” You don’t bother telling him it’s overcast and drizzling; not like it matters, because Hoseok groans again and swats your hand away before shoving his head under his pillow.

He says something you can’t catch, words unintelligible beneath layers of down. “What’d you say?” you ask. When his head pops up, expression frustrated and cheeks flushed red, you poke the dimple in his left cheek. He has to fight off a smile.

“I asked why you’re being so nice to me.”

You frown. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”

Hoseok sighs. Adjusts until he’s sitting up, long, skinny legs tangled in the comforter. Something about his hands is so interesting he’s unable to focus on anything else. “Because I’ve been a dick to you.” When you move to protest, he tacks on, “And not just on this trip, either. For a while.” For a second, you think he might cry. Hoseok used to cry a lot as a kid—had too much empathy for such a small body to know what to do with so all the excess tended to leak out. “God, there was so much I didn’t know? Like your majors? And the yoga? I just…” He trails off, looks lost. Picks up the coffee mug just to do something with his hands. “It feels bad. It just feels really bad.”

You return his sigh, wishing Hoseok was a little less honest. Always the first to put himself out there, be vulnerable, and sometimes it’s nice and sometimes it makes you feel guilty. “It’s okay.”

“It isn’t,” he argues.

You hold up a hand. “I know where you’re coming from, and I get it. I would probably feel bad, too, if I were in your position.” He whimpers, earning a soft laugh from you. “But I’m telling you it’s okay. I don’t blame you, all right? I never have. I don’t lay in bed at night agonizing over it. This isn’t like that for me.”

“Then what’s it like?”

You hum, knowing this is a moment to handle with care. You can’t be reckless here. So you think it over, and you say, “It’s… I don’t think this happened because you don’t care, because I know you do. I know I’m your best friend in every way someone can be your best friend, and you’re my best friend in all the ways someone can be mine. It’s just that those two things look different, is what I’m saying. And I think that’s okay.”

“It’s unbalanced.”

You nod. “Yeah, maybe it is, but sometimes that happens. It hasn’t always been unbalanced.”

This seems to calm him, and his smile is slow, reluctant, but it’s there nonetheless. “Okay.” He exhales the weight of the world. “Okay. I’d still like to be better, though.”

“We have all the time in the world, Seok.”

You normally eat most of your meals with Taehyung and Yoongi anyway, but since your conversation on the beach, Taehyung attaches to you like a limpet.

The first time had been unnerving. He’d cornered you outside the dining hall, stomach rumbling even as he demanded to know everything, please spare nothing, no detail is too small. There hadn’t been much to report, just that the two of you had talked and things were better.

“Did you tell him you’re in lo—” had earned him an elbow to the ribs.

He hasn’t asked again.

But he’s still hard to shake during mealtime, especially breakfast, because he wakes up ready to talk, conversation locked and loaded on his tongue. Yoongi, of course, doesn’t talk at all, so he offloads onto you and Hoseok, who’s too good-natured to ask for some peace and quiet.

“Seokjin asked me last night if water was wet,” he says, spearing a long piece of pineapple on his fork. “Like, obviously it’s wet? It’s water.”

“It isn’t, though,” you argue. “Water is just water. Wet is a state—”

Taehyung, cheeks bulging around the fruit like a hamster, frowns. “Huh? No. California is a state.”

Yoongi faceplants onto the table.

“No, Tae.” You shake your head. “Like, a state of being. Water makes other things wet, but it’s not wet itself.”

His frown deepens. Looks to Yoongi for help, clarification, but he’s still face-down, so he looks to Hoseok instead. He, very steadfastly, says, “She’s weirdly smart, man. I dunno. I’m not arguing with her.”

“Why? Because you’re also—” Another elbow to the ribs. He coughs, makes a very valiant attempt to look cool, calm, and collected. “You’re also very smart, Hoseok,” he amends. “I am very interested in hearing what you have to say.”

“In business, though. I’m not really smart in science stuff.”

“Interesting,” Taehyung muses. “Would you say you’re smart in love?”

Hoseok is good-natured enough to look genuinely confused. “Huh?”

Yoongi finally picks his head up. Sends Taehyung some kind of look that must mean something to only the two of them, because Taehyung just sighs, put-upon, and shoves a piece of cantaloupe in his mouth. He doesn’t talk to Hoseok for the rest of the day.

Two weeks pass in a blur.

The schedule remains the same. Yoga, shared meals, weird quasi-therapy sessions which you have come to realize are just minor cult recruiting, bonfires on the beach. You and Hoseok stay up late talking and barely make it on time to whatever activity you have first thing in the morning. Jimin corners you at least once a week to talk about your “fucked up and frankly demonic” birth chart because he refuses to believe it’s real. Jungkook offers to teach the four of you how to surf but abandons that five minutes into the first session after Yoongi refuses to touch sand and Hoseok nearly passes out from seeing Jungkook shirtless.

…Which Taehyung catches, of course, because he just sidles up alongside you. Says, “Ooh, interesting,” again, in a really smug way, before intercepting Jungkook and leading him far, far away from the beach. You think he winks at you over his shoulder.

Bastard.

But it works, much to your surprise. Of course the two of you have talked it to death, but part of Hoseok’s bid to be better also seems to include being more tactile. Which… is nice, you’ll admit. Hoseok’s fingers are long and slender and perfectly manicured, his hands soft, so it feels nice when they play with your hair or scratch gently at your back or hold your hand, but it also fills you with an anxious kind of dread.

Uncertainty, maybe.

You know how these things work. Forced proximity, only one bed. You’re two-thirds of a psychologist, after all, so you wouldn’t be surprised if Hoseok is just caught up in the moment, at the relief of overcoming an obstacle and making it to the other side. (God knows the bender he’d gone on after graduating business school attests to that.)

Curiously, none of that stops you from leaning into it.

It doesn’t feel weird. It doesn’t feel awkward or strange or anything besides natural. Hoseok’s bare face is the last thing you see before you fall asleep and the first thing you know you’ll see when you wake up, and just having that certainty, that security, makes the early mornings bearable. It makes them something worth looking forward to. It makes all the tension in your body unwind. Makes you pliable, has you laughing freely and leaning into Hoseok’s side during all those meals Taehyung spends talking. Except he’s not talking so much anymore—now, he’s studying. Smiling. Sending little glances only you and Yoongi catch.

Everything comes to a head at another of Seokjin’s weird dinners.

“A question for your discussion,” he begins, and you swear you hear Yoongi groan under his breath. When you look over at him, he’s nonchalantly chewing his food, no indication at all that he made a sound for the first time in two and a half weeks, so you convince yourself you’re hallucinating. “If no one ever sneezed again, how long do you think it’d take you to notice?”

Yoongi must feel you looking this time, because he offers up a dead stare in return. While Taehyung and Hoseok debate their answers—

(“Well, I work in an office, so probably not long.”

“Ah. I work from home, but I think it’d be pretty obvious? Especially during allergy season.”

“Yeah, for sure. It’s one of those things you’d definitely notice. It’s like—you know when you’re cooking and finally turn off the vent hood and the quiet is a little disorienting? It’d be like that, I think. Like, you definitely—”

“You notice something’s absence more than you notice its presence.”

“Yeah! Yes, exactly.”)

—that dead stare of Yoongi’s morphs into something more mischievous, slow like molasses. He catches your eye, winks, and fakes a yawn.

Taehyung startles, like he forgot Yoongi had been sitting next to him the entire time. “Oh, you’ll have to excuse him,” he says, cheeks dusting pink. “Someone told him once he’d been a rock in a past life and it catches up with him every now and then.”

Seokjin lets out a high-pitched giggle, looking absolutely delighted at this. “A rock, huh? Fascinating. Please tell me all about it.”

“Well, I think a lot of people would assume igneous, but that’s always seemed a little shallow to me, you know? I think he’s more metamorphic—”

As Taehyung rambles on, Seokjin turns his attention to you and Hoseok. “What about you two? What do you think you were like in a past life?”

“He had to have been a monk or something,” you declare, poking the crater of one of Hoseok’s dimples. “He’s been hoarding good karma for centuries and cashed it all in for this lifetime.”

“Aish,” Hoseok replies, cheeks matching Taehyung’s as he scratches at the back of his neck. “I don’t know about all that. It’s just luck, isn’t it?”

You look at Hoseok. Really look at him—at the way his lips curl around his teeth as he tries not to laugh at the way Taehyung’s still going on about rocks; at the way he pouts and gags a little whenever he takes a sip of champagne; at the way the stars in his eyes turn to glitter when Seokjin gives him an opening to talk about his dog. You look at Hoseok and you think yeah, it could be luck, but it feels more monumental.

It feels predestined.

And you’re not sure what that means. Of course friendships can feel predestined; you’re not one to discount the importance of platonic relationships. You’re not sure what it means in the context of yours and Hoseok’s friendship. You’re not sure if your stomach hurt back when Hoseok got a girlfriend back in high school because it was predestined to be platonic.

You frown as you swirl the wine around your glass.

Truth be told, you’re not sure about much of anything right now.

“Hey,” Hoseok says, patting your thigh to get your attention. You’re in a dress. A nice one: silk, a slit up the side, drapes perfectly over the lines of your body and clings where it should. Does absolutely nothing to spare you from the heat of Hoseok’s skin through the fabric. “You okay?”

You’re fucked, is what you are.

“Yeah,” you reply, offering what you can only hope is a convincing smile. “Think I drank this a little too fast.”

“Do you want to go back to the house? We don’t have to stay. Taehyung’s still talking about the difference between limestone and sandstone, so I don’t think we’ll miss anything.”

You nod, dropping your voice to a hushed whisper. “Yeah, that might be a good idea. They look like they’re about ten seconds away from mixing up geography and geology and being really offended when I don’t know anything about rocks.”

The two of you stand, and Hoseok’s hand immediately moves to the small of your back. Warm, warm, warm, and you can’t convince yourself it’s the wine that’s making you lightheaded.

“Oh-ho-ho,” Taehyung chimes, looking pleased as punch at the sight of Hoseok’s hand at your back. Throws an elbow into Yoongi’s ribs. He doesn’t even flinch. “And where are the two of you going?”

“Uh, home?” Hoseok answers at the same time you say, “Fuck off, Taehyung,” because your face feels like it’s on fire and you’ve had enough of his ribbing.

Except, as it turns out, some amalgamation of home and fuck off sounds a whole lot like home, to fuck, and Taehyung might’ve been serious about the matchmaking thing, but even this kind of misunderstood forwardness has him choking on his sip of wine. Yoongi slaps at his back in the most patronizing way you’ve ever seen someone try to save another person from choking.

“Is he okay?” Hoseok asks, completely oblivious.

You shrug. “No. In so many ways.”

Through his choking, Taehyung manages a glare. “Takes one to know one,” he childishly responds, and you roll your eyes at the exact moment Seokjin grins and does a little wiggle, starts up a very enthusiastic fight, fight, fight! chant.

The thing is—Taehyung is drunk. You know he’s drunk, so him overriding Seokjin’s chant with one of his own—kiss, kiss, kiss!—certainly excuses and explains his behavior, it does absolutely nothingto extinguish the wildfire that’s sparked in your belly.

It’s a bad idea.

You and Hoseok have kissed before, when you were twelve and he was thirteen and he landed on you during a game of Spin the Bottle. Everyone around you had erupted into excited jeering, but the two of you shared a mortified look before he shuffled over on his hands and knees looking less like he was about to have his first kiss and more like he was being dragged to his death.

Looking back, that had been offensive, but he’d still puckered his lips and kissed the pout off your face all the same.

So it’s a bad idea, and you should tell Taehyung that the two of you have already kissed and to knock it off, because the second time you kiss shouldn’t only be to shut him up, but you’re both a little drunk in general and a lot drunk on the thought of redemption. If you pursed your lips the way he had fifteen years ago, leaned in close enough for him to smell your perfume, would he wear another mortified look? Or would he—

Fuck it, you think.

Because, once he realizes you’re serious, that you’re actually considering kissing him, the look he wears is not mortified. He looks a little awestruck—slightly dumb, if you’re being honest; definitely dazed—and it takes all that wildfire raging in your gut and unleashes it. Inspires just enough confidence to step closer, lean in; close enough to feel the warmth emanating from Hoseok’s skin, but still far enough for him to pull away if he wanted to.

Hoseok doesn’t want to.

And his hands are already at the small of your back, so it’s so easy to pull you closer. So easy to move them to your hips, grip a little tighter just in case you start to drift away. So easy to press his lips to yours and kiss the absolute life out of you.

You've kissed a lot of people over the span of fifteen years. None of them had lips as soft as Hoseok’s.

He must’ve done a lot of kissing, too, because the way he moves his mouth is sinful. Precise and confident, just a tease of his tongue. You can feel his smile against your lips and it nearly makes your knees buckle. Reminds you, more than the taste and smell of him, that it’s Hoseok you’re kissing, and the thought alone has you gripping at his dress shirt.

Any other time he’d complain about the wrinkles.

Not this one, though.

“Are you nervous?”

The question finds you halfway out of your dress. “Not really,” you answer. “I think my strap is stuck.”

A nervous laugh is punched out of him, but he moves to help you nonetheless. Gently touches your arm and spins you around, fingers ghosting along your skin as he untangles the strap and pushes it off your shoulder. The fabric pools on the floor, emerald and glittering, as you step out of it, and you laugh. It’s been three days since you and Hoseok kissed. The two of you have done a lot of kissing since then, and he’s still so hesitant; eyes still widen every time you lean in close, like he can’t believe it.

Hoseok is still so shy.

“Why would I be nervous?” you ask, because keeping him talking is the best way to keep him out of his head. “It’s you.”

He whimpers, like that’s the worst possible reasoning you could’ve given him. “Yeah, that’s exactly why I’m nervous.”

“It’s okay if you are,” you say, turning around to fully face him, and Hoseok looks struck. Torn between the way his nerves are eating him alive and the sight of you in just a pair of lacy panties. “We can do whatever you want, Seok.”

“I—no.” He swallows hard. “No, no, I think—we should definitely… you know.” You quirk an eyebrow. “My dick is fighting for its life right now.”

You dare a glimpse downward. Hoseok’s dick doesn’t look like it’s fighting for its life, outlined and half-hard in his expensive trousers, but what do you know? “Taehyung asked me about your dick once.”

“What.”

“Well, not exactly. He’d asked me if I ever thought about having sex with you—”

Hoseok whimpers again. “Please do not tell me what your answer was.”

“—and I told him you were like a Ken doll.” At his questioning look, you clarify, “You know. Dickless. Smooth from the waist down.”

“Wow. Why would you tell me that? Not gonna lie, it’s a little emasc—”

“I might need to see it. For science.”

Hoseok startles. “M-my dick?”

“Yeah. For science,” you repeat. “Taehyung is gonna be thrilled. He called your dicklessness, and I quote, an L for the gay community.”

Your best friend seems to ponder this. His hands hover uselessly in the air, and it’s ten seconds, twenty—you think he might call the whole thing off, but then he shrugs and undoes his belt, the metal clanky in his haste. “For the gays,” he explains as he pushes his pants down his thighs.

“Of course,” you agree, nodding seriously. “They deserve it.”

“What else did Taehyung say?”

“Nothing much. Just that we need to get our shit together because we’re wasting some really good windows to fuck against.”

Hoseok doesn’t fuck you against the windows the first time.

The first time is slow and unhurried. Because it’s Hoseok, he lights a candle and the two of you take your time touching, learning, shaking off the dregs of apprehension. He flushes crimson and nearly does a runner anytime something goes less than perfectly, and it’s so endearing you have to stop yourself from sinking through the mattress under the weight of all your affection.

The second time is all raw, desperate need. After a day of sly smiles reserved only for you, Hoseok meets you in the bathroom at the end of another night. There’s a spot of toothpaste on your sleep shirt that he disregards at the sight of your bare legs. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and then there’s only enough time for anticipation to start simmering beneath your skin before he’s moving.

(Technically, the third time is only a few hours later. Just like it has everyday since you arrived, your alarm goes off at six sharp, time for yoga, but instead of ushering you out of bed, Hoseok hits the snooze button and pulls you closer. Fits himself to your back and slides your panties to the side, speaks an is this okay? in his impossibly deep morning voice, and then you’re nodding your head and he’s pushing inside.)

Now, though—

Nerves have been shaken off. Another weird dinner has been sat through to which you’d worn a two-piece outfit, the top cropped just enough to show off a strip of skin—modest enough for the motley crew you share your evenings with, but apparently scandalous enough to drive Hoseok insane. He’s all barely-contained energy beside you, hand gripping your thigh, not paying a lick of attention to the conversation.

You lean over, speak the question just below his ear. “You okay?” Goosebumps erupt all over his skin.

“We need to leave right now.”

“Really? Why? You aren’t having a good time?”

Hoseok makes you pay for your smart mouth. Has you pressed against the expanse of windows in your bedroom, stripped down to just your underwear and the top he insisted you keep on, only your shoulders pressed against the glass. Presses wet, open-mouth kisses along your calves, the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and then he’s canting your hips forward to nip at you over your underwear. More silk and lace—thin enough to feel the warmth of his breath, then nothing but warmth when he licks a stripe up your folds, spit seeping through the fabric.

“Fuck.”

He does it once, twice more before he leans back, refuses to meet your gaze. Your brows furrow because your hands are tangled in his hair, tugging as you try to get him to look up at you, wanting to see the evidence of your arousal on his face, but then he’s smirking out of the side of his mouth, hands reaching for your underwear.

You register the cold air of the room on your skin before the sound of fabric ripping.

Then you’re saying, “What the fuck, Hobi, did you just—” and he’s laughing as he nods, not a care in the world except getting his mouth back on you. He licks and sucks until you’re nearly trembling with the need to come, begging him to let you, and you think if you were anyone else he’d drag it out longer. Make you beg a little more. But regardless of whatever he’s told himself over the years in order to cope, Hoseok can’t deny you anything, so he presses two fingers inside, right on the spot that whites out your vision.

He touches himself to the sight of your orgasm.

Rolls the condom on. Runs his cock through your folds, tells you to slick him up. As he presses inside again, crowding close, breath fogging the glass behind you, he tells you to thank Taehyung for the idea.

You’re gonna have to thank him for a whole lot more than that.

In hindsight, you should’ve known Namjoon was nothing more than a dirty little schemer.

There’s three days left of your stay, and the question had been nagging at you ever since you cut through the reception area to get to the meditation class you were running late for. Jimin, of course, gave you shit for it: wordlessly, because he was busy checking in a man with far too much luggage. A man who was checking in alone, and that was not a thing, so far as you were aware, so your curiosity was to be expected.

“Can I just ask,” you say, once again in Jimin’s strange little room behind the beaded curtain. “Why a couple’s retreat?”

“Huh?”

“Isn’t it less effective for Seokjin’s weird cult? Like, statistically speaking, you’ve got to be more likely to recruit single people, right?”

“Huh?”

You blink. “What part is confusing you? And don’t say the cult, because I had that pegged on, like, day three.”

“No,” Jimin agrees quickly, “Seokjin is definitely officiating a cult. I just—why do you think this is a couple’s retreat?”

“Uh, because Namjoon said it was? That’s why me and Hoseok are faking being a couple—”

“Were. Were faking.”

“—and it just sort of made sense, considering the people who showed up after us were literally a couple.”

Jimin sighs, schools his expression to the one he always uses when he has to be condescending and speak to you as if you’re a woefully stupid child. “I don’t know who Namjoon is, but I’m assuming he lied in order to get you two to do… exactly what you’ve done.”

“What.”

“This isn’t a couple’s retreat, buttercup, just a regular ol’ wellness one.”

“That Seokjin also uses as his cult recruitment headquarters.”

“Yep.”

“I feel betrayed.”

“Pisces usually do.”

“Excuse me—”

“You’re excused,” he dismisses, shooing you out of his closet.

Despite his innocent nature, Hoseok isn’t nearly as shocked as you to learn Namjoon deceived him.

That’s life, I guess, was all he’d said, the picture of comfort and nonchalance as he lounged in bed, wrapped in a fluffy robe, arm behind his head like a king. You had been shocked—no longer at the betrayal, but at Hoseok’s quick acceptance of it. Hoseok from a month ago would’ve been flustered and on the brink of a meltdown. Hoseok today just shrugs it off.

“I’m just saying.” He dangles a stem of grapes over his mouth like an asshole. “Jimin called it a wellness retreat, right? I didn’t get roped into Seokjin’s cult and we’re… well, whatever we are, so a win is a win. Seems like wellness to me.”

“Whatever we are,” you mimic, pitching Hoseok’s voice up a dozen octaves. “Wow, how romantic.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes, pats the spot next to him on the bed. “If you’d like to come over here, we can have the highly-anticipated ‘what are we’ discussion that no one in the history of human relationships has ever once dreaded having.”

You wave him off. “No need. It’s you, and I trust you, so I don’t think we’re going to go back home and you’re going to write this off as a weird forced proximity thing and ghost me.” You finish the application of your facemask, laughing to yourself at Hoseok’s offended scoff. “Besides, constantly having to defend you from Rose Emoji and Hammer and Sickle Twitter is the pinnacle of devotion and love. That’s the kinda shit that forms a trauma bond.”

“For my peace of mind, then.”

“Fine. Hoseok, I love you dearly as my best friend and I’m probably halfway in love with you as a romantic partner, and even though this vacation has been incredible and rewarding and you are very good at sex, I am also very much looking forward to having my own space again because you are almost impossible to live with.” You roll your lips at the sour expression marring his face. “That said: you still owe me dinner at the Brazilian spot near your office, so I would like it very much if you took me there as a date. You can tell Namjoon I’m your girlfriend if you wish.”

“And are you?”

“Ugh. Of course I am, Hobi. What do you take me for? You think I’m the kind of woman who agrees to spend a month in the rainforest and almost get roped into some sketchy cult with anyone who asks?”

“Well, I don’t know! Maybe!”

“You’re impossible. Do you want to be my boyfriend or not?”

At this, Hoseok’s face lights up so bright it puts the sun to shame. Smiles so big you can hardly believe it. “I would love nothing more.”

During your last group meal, Seokjin invites the new guy to join you.

Taehyung is enthralled immediately, gesturing for him to take the empty seat to his left. “Hello, nice to meet you! I’m Kim Taehyung and this is Min Yoongi. Are you here for the wellness retreat part or the cult part?”

Seokjin chokes on a slice of mango.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kim Taehyung. I’m Park Bogum,” the man responds. “I’m here for the cult part.”

Seokjin promptly stops choking.

Saying goodbye to this place, these people, is bittersweet.

The last four weeks have undoubtedly been the weirdest of your life, but they’ve more than made up for it with what you’ve been given in return: a blossoming relationship with Hoseok, Taehyung and Yoongi’s friendship. Even Jimin and Jungkook come to see you off, and Jimin surprises you by wrapping you in a tight hug, assuring you that you’ll still be his second-favorite Pisces long after you’re gone.

“Wow, rude. Who’s the first?”

“Yoongi.”

“Yoongi? How is he your favorite? He doesn’t talk!”

Jimin smirks, smug and patronizing. “Exactly. Have a safe trip, buttercup.”

Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t say much at all. You suspect he showed up only to look hot and catapult Hoseok into his final sexuality crisis, and that suspicion is confirmed when he leans against the wall and pushes his hair away from his forehead. The sound that comes out of Hoseok is part whimper, part pain and suffering, and truly catastrophic for his ego.

“Get it together,” you plead, but it falls on deaf ears. Hoseok is in a Jungkook-induced haze until you’re halfway to the airport, Taehyung chattering the entire way.

And then—

And then.

“Well, that was fucking weird, huh?” Yoongi asks.

Hoseok is running late.

He’s gotten better at equalizing his work-life balance since returning from your trip, but he still gets held up sometimes. A lot to catch up on, he’d said, and you can understand that. He’d spent his first week back doing nothing but haranguing Namjoon, so that surely ate up a lot of time.

Still, he’s never been quite this late.

The waitstaff are looking at you with concern. They used to look at you only to see if your water needed topping up, so this is an unfortunate development, especially for someone who looks as you currently do. Any person in this overpriced Brazilian steakhouse would be honored to even sit at the same table as you, let alone be able to call you their date, so Hoseok really has a lot of nerve.

You’re halfway to telling him as much over a very angry text message when he appears in front of you, face flushed, chest heaving, hairline dotted with sweat. “Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Got a little caught up.”

“No shit,” you whisper-yell, “that waiter over there looked like he was about ready to call the cops on me. I probably can’t even afford the water in this place.”

Hoseok grimaces. “In my defense, I have a very good reason.”

“Oh yeah?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest. “And what is that?”

Wordlessly, Hoseok hands over a garishly orange shopping bag emblazoned with a very familiar logo and brand name. Suddenly, it feels impossible to breathe. “You didn’t. Hobi, tell me you didn’t—”

“You know how much bullshit you have to go through for one of those things? God, I had to put in a request. Not to mention it was like fourteenseparate credit checks…”

You tune him out. Instead, you peek inside the bag with what you can only describe as pure dread. Not at the implication, because that has you thrumming with joy and affection, but at the cost of—

“You got me a Birkin.”

Hoseok looks at you like you’ve sprouted a second head. “Um. That’s what you said you wanted, right?”

“You said you weren’t spending that much money on anyone who isn’t your future spouse.”

The look doesn’t budge. “Yeah? I’m clearly not following.”

“When did you put in the request?” If your voice is audibly waterlogged, Hoseok doesn’t mention it, but you can feel the tears pooling at your lash line nonetheless.

The confusion finally clears and gives way to another brilliant smile. A little bashful, too, because he hides behind the menu and refuses to look at you. Says something you don’t catch, can’t hear over the dim chatter of this restaurant, and he groans in pleased faux-annoyance when you tell him to repeat himself.

“I said… I put it in the night you kissed me.”

It feels like you’ve been punched in the chest. “You’ve known that long?”

And Hoseok—Hoseok ducks behind the menu again, but this time you can hear him loud and clear: “I’ve known a lot longer than that.”

author's note pt. 2: if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! i really hope you enjoyed this. as always, any reblogs are greatly appreciated and my inbox is always open for feedback. ♡

#hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok x y/n #jhope x reader #hobi x reader #hoseok fluff #hoseok smut #hoseok imagine #hoseok fanfic #jhope smut #jhope fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic

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chiefdirector · 2 months

Text

Survival | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Tim watched, helplessly, as the door closed behind (Y/N). He wanted to follow her, but he knew that any imput form him would be useless at best and detrimental at worse.

It was meant to have been an easy day, he could laugh at that thought now. He had grown comfortable, to comfortable. But he had planned for him and (Y/N) take a long weekend off. He had it all planned out, movies rented and cupboards stocked with more food they they could bost possibly eat.

It had been a long couple of months, both he and (Y/N) swamped with case after case at work. So when the last day came before their time off, Tim's head wasn't in the game. He should have been more focussed, if he had, then he wouldn't be here, sitting in a hospital waiting room, drecnhed in his finacee's blood.

It was his fault.

It was all his fault, he would never forgive himself.

It was nearing end of shift when it happened, he took what sounded like an easy call. If he had paid better attention, he would have known how much of a shit-show he was driving into.

(Y/N) had shot him an odd look when he said that they were responding alone. He had said that they didn't need back-up, it was a simple domestic call.

That's another thing he felt like laughing at. He though it was simple. Simple! If the guilt wasn't sitting so heavily in his chest, he might have actually been able to must some sort of reaction to the thought.

But he felt numb. He knew that he had to trust the doctor's to save her. They had brought him back from the brink of death numerous amounts of times, but it wasn't his life at stake here, it was hers. And if she didn't make it, Tim didn't know how he could forgive himself.

The bullet had scraped her neck, breaking the vein. The couple they had been sent to wasn't just having an arguement. The wife had her partner at gunpoint.

Thankfully, the husband wasn't harmed, (Y/N) had made sure of that. She took the bullet meant for him. She had made a split second descision to put her life in front of his. It was her job to do that, Tim knew all too well. But he knew that it was his job as her fiance to put her above all else and he had failed; he failed her.

The rest of it was a blur to him. He knew from the blood on his hands that he had to have tried to stop her bleeding. He could vaguley picture the ambulance that had come to get her and (Y/N)'s attacker running away before she could be arrested.

Everything else was a mystery. All he knew now was that he was in front of doors forbidding the general public to enter.

"Officer," A voice said from behind him. Quickly, he broke from his thoughts. He turned, looking at the nurse before him, nodding to prompt her to continue. "I don't think she will be out for a while, do you know her next of kin?"

"It's me." His voice was shaky and quiet as his spoke. He just about clocked on that the nurse didn't hear him. He cleared his throat, speaking clearly this time. "It's me, I'm her next of kin."

As he spoke, he felt his thoughts clarify for the first time since he saw (Y/N)'s body crumple to the ground. He was useless here but he knew what he had to do.

Ignoring the nurse as she began to speak again, Tim turn on his heels and left the hospital. (Y/N)'s survival was no longer something he could control, the only thing he could do was to catch the bitch who shot her.

That and pray that she would come back to him.

Masterlist

@rookietrek @kmc1989 @augustvandyne

(i tagged people i thought may like, let me know if you wasnt to be added and/or removed)

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #the rookie #the rookie imagine #chiefdirector

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eyesofshinigami · 3 months

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It's The Little Things

Rating: G

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, fluff, projection (lol), Short and sweet

Prompt: From @shofarshogood "Love is doing the dishes even when it's the worst chore ever"

WC: 900

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 5

If there is one chore Eddie could spend the rest of his life never doing again, it would be doing dishes. He hates it with flaming, raging passion. He’d almost rather be eaten by demobats again, but he would never say as much in front of Steve. It makes him all mopey when he says shit like that, even though Eddie’s pretty sure it was his near death, so he gets to joke about it.

At any rate, Eddie absolutely loathes washing dishes. He hates the feeling of wet food on his hands, the way it gets up under his fingernails. He hates the sound of the sponge squeaking against glass. He especially hates how he can never seem to stay dry while he washes them, either. It never fails, he always ends up a sopping wet mess (along with the floor, the counter, the pile of mail he still hasn’t opened yet…)

He would happily go the rest of his life without ever washing a single dish again.

Thankfully, Steve seems to find doing dishes therapeutic, or some shit. He always tells Eddie that it gives him the chance to zone out, to let his brain turn off and go on autopilot. Which, Eddie can kind of relate to, considering it’s the same sort of zen he finds when he’s folding their clothes. Especially towels. Eddie really likes folding towels.

Anyway, it works out. Eddie washes clothes and Steve does the dishes. It’s a pretty good balance and it means their dishes are always clean and they never run out of laundry.

Except lately, Steve has been swamped. Between working twelve-hour EMT shifts and trying to study for his finals, there just hasn’t been time. The dishes have just… been piling up in the sink. To the point where it’s kind of starting to overflow.

Shamefully, it takes Eddie a little bit longer to notice, considering that it’s not on his usual chore list. It isn’t until he’s having to precariously rest a cereal bowl on the pile so it doesn’t collapse that it actually occurs to him that maybe, just maybe, it’s time to fucking wash the dishes.

He lets out a sigh. God, he hates doing dishes, but… but he knows that Steve is too tired, has too much going on. It wouldn’t kill him to do it just this once, to make sure it’s one more thing his boyfriend doesn’t have to worry about. If he can make Steve’s life just a little bit easier, he can brave some stuck-on food and grimy soapy water.

So, Eddie pulls up his metaphorical big boy panties and grabs the dish soap and starts the tap running. Thankfully, he manages to locate the bright yellow gloves that Steve uses to clean under the sink, which should make this more tolerable. He pops one of his metal mixes into the cassette player and gets to work, bobbing his head and trying not to think about what might lurking under the soapy water.

He lets himself get lost in the repetition of it, scrubbing then rinsing then putting in the drainer that Steve insisted they buy when they moved in together. So lost, in fact, that he doesn’t hear the front door opening or the sound of approaching footsteps, until Steve is suddenly appearing in the doorway.

“Christ!” Eddie yells, almost dropping the slotted spoon he was washing.

“Sorry, baby. But uh… Eds… what are you doing?” Steve asks, motioning to the sink.

Eddie almost says something flip, it’s on the tip of his tongue, but he can see the dark circles under Steve’s eyes, the way his back is hunched. “Oh, uh, doing the dishes. They were piling up and I figured I was off today, I could just do them.”

Steve blinks at him. “But you hate doing the dishes.”

Eddie blinks back. “Yeah, but I knew you’d be home late. Like I said, I figured I could do them and… you know, help you out?”

Steve blinks again, before the sweetest smile breaks out onto his face. Like sunshine after the rain. “I appreciate that, thank you.” Steve steps into his space, wrapping his arms around Eddie and pulling him into a hug. He doesn’t even seem to care that Eddie’s shirt and sweatpants seem to soaked. “You’re the best.”

“I just washed a couple of dishes, Steve,” Eddie tries to joke, but he nuzzles against Steve, the best he can do right now while he’s still wearing these ridiculous rubber gloves. “You’ve been working hard, baby. I just wanted to make things easier for you.”

Steve lets out a shaky sigh. “You do, Eds. Every day. Thank you.” He leans in for a kiss, soft and sweet and thrilling Eddie down to his toes. When Steve pulls back, he pecks Eddie on the lips one more time before he says, “How about we order Chinese tonight? From the takeout place with the cartons, so we don’t have to dirty any more dishes, hmm?”

“Music to my ears, Stevie. Go order and I’ll finish up here, yeah?”

Steve nods and Eddie watches him walk away, seeing the way Steve is still smiling like Eddie just handed him a million bucks or something.

He might still hate it, but Eddie would wash all the dishes in the world to see Steve smile like that every day of the week.

#les writes thing #steddie #steddielovemonth #rating: g #fluff

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heaven4lostgirls · 8 months

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hope (S.R)

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warning: angst, a little bit of comfort.

summary: the aftermath of reader leaving steve gives him clarity and has them both realizing that he needs to work harder to gain his girl back.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: I am so sorry this took so long to come out, I’ve been swamped with uni work but I’m so happy you guys liked part 1, I will probably post a part 3 to this, which other characters do you ship reader with??? Steve is looking at some competition soon!

part 1 , part 2, part 3

tags: @nouk1998, @spngingerbread21, @blackhawkfanatic, @immyowndefender (if I wasn't able to tag you that means your tags don't work!)

Steve,

If you’re reading this, then you have realised I’m not staying in the tower anymore. Tony helped set me up in safe house for the next few weeks, I can’t stay here. You chose Sharon over me Steve and you must know that I can’t stay with someone who would choose another woman over me.

I need you to know that although it’s been hard for me to accept it, I understand. It’s not okay that you chose to leave without talking to me, but I understand if she is who you want okay? I am so grateful to have spent the last 3 years by your side, but I can no longer watch on from the sidelines as you look at her like how you used to look at me.

When I come back, hopefully I’ll be ready to talk, but I am asking you that if you ever held any form of love and respect for me, to give me this time to heal.

Thank you, Steve, for everything,

y/n.

Steve crumples your handwritten letter in his hand, the paper squashed in the palm of his hands as he throws back the bourbon in his glass. His eyes are red rimmed and his face unshaven. He has been a mess since you left a week ago, unable to move from his room, and spending his time rereading your letter hoping that he could find some small sign that you still loved him, still wanted him.

He was unaccustomed to this feeling of pain, when he got out of the ice, he assumed the pain of knowing that he had missed his time with Peggy was truly the worst form of torture but the agony of once having your love and affection and having it so brutally stripped from him, may just be at the top of his list.

He sighs as he uncrumples the paper to place it on his desk as he moves to lay back in his bed, he had been part of a repetitive cycle for the last week, working purely on survival mode before he’s interrupted by a soft knock on his door.

He knows better than to feel excited at the small hope of it being you however he knows that it’s Bucky and Sam checking up on him and bringing him food before they annoy him into getting into the shower. He can’t stand the look of pity in their eyes as they hand him his food, so he slams the door shut as soon as he gets it, placing it on his desk, he moves to the bathroom.

He turns the shower head all the way to cold, hoping it will bring some shock into his system, however because of his super soldier abilities, his immune system is fried and numb to the coldness of the water.

His eyes burn as tears roll down his face, sobs wrack his body as he pounds his fist into the wall in front of me which breaks at the force of his strength. He hears the door quietly open before he feels Bucky’s metal arm tugging him from under the water into a towel.

This has happened nearly everyday for the last 3 days, sometime on the first day, Steve had stopped acting like you abrupt leaving hadn’t affected him and broke down during his training session, to which Bucky had been helping him through his depressed state however all he ever really wanted was you.

“I want her back” Steve sobs into Bucky’s clothed shoulder as he feels his friend cooing and soothing him like a baby before he is gently placed on his bed. His body shakes with his painful sobbing as he feels Bucky rubbing his back. “I know Stevie, I know” Bucky sighs as he tucks Steve in after he exhausts himself from crying.

Meanwhile you haven’t been doing any better, your mental health slowly deteriorating at the acceptance of the end of your relationship with Steve. You had known somewhere deep down that throughout the past month whenever you had caught Steve looking at Sharon that this was the beginning of the end.

However now it was time for you to face the reality of the situation, you may have spent the last week crying your eyes out at sad romance films with ice-cream and chocolate but you knew that enough was enough, you needed to talk with Steve and hear what he had wanted to say the day you left.

Running from your problems was not the best solution however you knew realistically you did not have the mental capacity to hear whatever Steve had to say and that it would only end up doing more harm than good considering how high strung you both were about the whole situation.

Now, as you step off the quinjet, you are greeted with Bucky’s genuine yet sorrowful smile. “Hi Buck” you greeted softly as you stood awkwardly, worrying if you could still hug him even though you knew he probably spent the last week comforting your ex-boyfriend. Not than you could blame him, they had been friends for far longer than the both of you.

Bucky just rolled his eyes before his smile widened as he pulled you into a tight hug, you breathed a sigh of relief and slumped into your friend. Your moment was interrupted by a loud voice chiming in from behind the both of you.

“Y/N!!!!” you and Bucky both separate, you with a look of amusement and Bucky with a look of annoyance. Peter’s joyful gaze found yours as he sprinted towards you. “I knew when you didn’t respond to the meme I sent you this morning, something was up!” he said excitedly as he spins you in a hug as a laugh bubbles out of you.

“Hey kid, yeah I was on a flight back from South Africa” you smile and separate from him before you see his joyful gaze darken at something behind you.

“Y/N.” you hear softly from behind you, and you freeze.

You turn around and place a polite smile on your face, not quite ready for the conversation ahead.

“Steve” you say and nod at him, he moves as though he’s going to hug you but thinks again and moves back and you’re somewhat grateful, you don’t think you’d be able to compose yourself.

You all stand in awkward silence for a bit before you break it, “I should uh” you gesture inside and he nods before he opens his mouth, “Can I help with your bags?” he asks nervously.

You were hoping to have a few minutes to compose yourself, but Steve is probably right to get the conversation out of the way.

As you both walk through the tower, you realise how quiet it is and make note to thank everyone for steering clear of the both of you.

As you both reached your old room since you had been sharing with Steve, you place you bag down before you turn to Steve who is standing sadly outside your room. “You can come in” you tease him and that snaps him out of his mood as he moves to sit at the desk in front of your bed and you sit on your bed.

“So” you both start before you motion to Steve to carry on.

“I love you y/n, I don’t want this to be the end, can we please work on this? I promise I’ll do better, and I won’t choose Sharon over you ever again.” He rushes out in what you assume is an attempt to stop the inevitable.

You smile at him in pity and before you can start talking you see him shaking his head as tears fill his eyes. “Steve, if you really wanted me as bad as you say you do, where was all this attention and affection this last month? Why did it take me leaving for you to realise how badly you fucked up?” you question and watch as he breaks in front of you.

The last week must have been hell for him, the same way the last month was for you.

“Please just let me try y/n, let me try please” he pleads as he moves from sitting in the small chair to kneeling before you as he grasps your hands.

You move your hands to grasp his face as you wipe his tears.

“Love, I will always love you but you need to realise how hard it was for me to sit here on standby every time you left me for Sharon, I need to choose myself for once” you confess and Steve sobs into your legs as you thread your hands through his hair as you try and calm him down.

You watch as Steve tries to compose himself in front of you before he looks into your eyes in determination. “I’m going to prove it to you” he says seriously, and you nod to placate him before he shakes his head in protest. “No, you don’t understand, I am going to prove to you how much you mean to me y/n” he says and some part of you is hopeful he tries as hard as he says he’s going to be this time.

“I’m not going to sit around and wait for you to make it up to me Steve, you’re going to have to work for it” you say, and he deflates but nonetheless nods in understanding, realistically he acknowledges that he deserved worse treatment. He just can’t stand the idea of you finding love and connection with someone that isn’t him.

#juliwrites #steve rogers angst #steve rogers imagine #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers hurt #steve rogers hurt/comfort #steve rodgers imagine #mcu #marvel #marvel movies #bucky barnes #peter parker

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a060403 · 5 months

Text

𝐀 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: R18, smutt, afab!reader, established relationship, unprotected p in v, office sex, explicit language, long story ahead, not proofread, grammatical errors, oneshot

✒ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀/𝐍: Hello, I hope you enjoy this piece. I'm sorry for the grammatical errors ahead, English is not my first language but I do try to fix it.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈!!!

The office was bustling with activity as usual, but today, there seemed to be an extra layer of tension in the air. Miguel had been working on a particularly difficult project for weeks now, and it looked like things were finally coming to a head. His client had set an unrealistic deadline, and Miguel was starting to feel the pressure.

He sat hunched over his desk, eyes fixed on the computer screen as he typed furiously. The coffee cup beside him was empty, forgotten. His stomach growled audibly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast. He tried to push the hunger pangs aside and focus on the task at hand. As the hours ticked by, Miguel felt his stress levels rising. His mind was racing, trying to find a solution to the problem that seemed insurmountable.

Sweat began to bead on his forehead despite the cold air conditioning in the room. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his head, but it only made the world around him blurrier. Finally, when it felt like time had stopped moving altogether, Miguel's phone vibrated on his desk. He glanced at the screen, half-expecting it to be another email from his client, but instead, it was a text from you.

“Hey, just checking in on you,” you wrote. “It's been a while since I've heard from you. Are you okay?” He took a deep breath and forced himself to sit up straight. His shoulders were tight with tension, and he realized how much stress he had been holding onto. He typed out a quick reply.

“I'm fine, just swamped with work. I promise I'll make it up to you tonight.” As he hit send, he felt a tiny bit of the weight lift off his chest. Maybe you could help him unwind after all this was over. Or maybe they could take a break together tomorrow—something to look forward to amidst all the chaos. For now, though, Miguel turned back to his computer screen and redoubled his efforts to meet that impossible deadline.

A knock brought him out of focus and he dragged his eyes away from his laptop screen and towards the office door. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision, and looked up at the clock. 7 PM. “Hey baby,” you gleamed and entered his office.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice sounding rougher than he expected. He stood up and stretched, trying to work out the kinks in his back. “I didn't realize it was so late.”

You closed the door behind you and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You rested your head on his chest, and Miguel felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “How's your day so far?” you asked softly. Miguel looked down at you, feeling a pang of guilt for neglecting you all day. “Tiring, I might have to stay late again for tonight,” he sighed. “What brings you here?”

“Well, I was thinking of giving you a hand… seems like you need it.” You said, kissing his jawline. His body tensed in contact. A shaky breath escaped his mouth when he felt your lips travel down his neck. “Mmm,” He murmured softly, closing his eyes as you continued to trail gentle kisses along his jawline and up toward his earlobe.

“You know, I can't tell if you're trying to distract me or help me focus right now,” he chuckled, leaning back against the desk with a sigh. You smiled up at him, your hands resting on his chest. “Maybe both?” Miguel shook his head, smiling. “I don't know how you do it,” he said, running a finger through your hair. “But I appreciate it.” He pulled you closer, your bodies pressing together in an intimate embrace. “Now let's go get some food so we can actually talk about something other than work for once.”

He grabbed your hand and led you towards the door. As soon as you were outside, he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I missed you today,” he whispered against your ear. Miguel wrapped his arms around you, feeling the tension from earlier start to melt away. “I missed you too,” you replied, nuzzling his neck. “But you're always so busy.”

“I know,” he sighed, pulling back to look at you. “But I promise we'll make up for it tomorrow.” He leaned down and kissed you softly on the lips, his hands running soothingly up and down your back. You could feel the heat between them building once again as he pressed his body against yours.

“Come on,” he murmured after a moment, breaking the kiss reluctantly. “Maybe we can find somewhere more comfortable to continue this conversation.” He winked at you playfully, tugging gently on your hand as they walked towards the parking lot together.

You found a small, cozy restaurant tucked away in the corner of their neighborhood. The atmosphere was dimly lit, with soft music playing in the background, creating an intimate ambiance that felt miles away from the hustle and bustle of their office building.

Miguel ordered some wine to share and spent the next hour or so just talking about anything but work—your favorite movies, your dream vacation spots, and even some silly childhood memories. As you both sipped on your drinks and savored each bite of food, you couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment with him.

When you finally finished eating, Miguel took out his phone to check the time again (a habit he couldn't seem to shake), only to find that it was much later than he thought. “Wow,” he said, looking up at you with a sheepish grin. “I guess we really got caught up.”

“Don't worry about it,” you replied with a smile. “We both needed this.” He reached across the table and took your hand in his. “Come on,” he continued. “Let's head back.” You left the restaurant hand in hand, feeling more relaxed and connected than you had all day.

As you walked down the street together, Miguel's arm brushed against your shoulder every now and then, sending shivers of pleasure up your spine. When you finally reached his office, he took your hand and led you inside. The room was dimly lit as well, casting long shadows across the floor as you made your way to his desk. He loosened his tie before turning around to face you.

“So,” he began softly, running a finger along your jawline. “What was it you said earlier, hmm? Giving me a hand?” You bit your lower lip nervously as he stepped closer, bringing his body flush against yours. His breath was warm against your ear as he whispered, “How about we make use of that right now?”

Miguel lifted you onto his desk, he couldn't help but feel a surge of desire course through him. Your legs were spread wide, offering yourself to him in an unmistakable invitation. With trembling hands, he reached down and cupped your soft mound, feeling the heat radiating off it as he began to massage gently.

“Miguel,” you whispered hoarsely, arching your back as his touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. He teased at the sensitive folds between your legs before pressing slowly inside. You cried out softly at the sensation, hips jerking involuntarily. His other hand found its way to one of your breasts, squeezing and pinching the nipple as he took control of your body with both hands.

You whimpered, leaning into his touch. “Oh God, Miguel...I need you.” He looked into your eyes, his own filled with desire. “Estoy aquí, mi vida. Voy a cuidar de ti bien.” He murmured before leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

Miguel positioned himself between your legs, his cock at the entrance of your wet and eager pussy. He rubbed the head against your sensitive folds, teasing you with the promise of pleasure to come. “You're so beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you softly on the lips. His fingers traced gentle circles around your entrance, spreading your folds wider apart as he prepared to enter you.

With a deep breath, he pushed forward, slowly inserting his thick cock into your tight heat. You gasped as he filled you up, feeling every inch of him stretching you out. His hands moved to your hips, holding you still as he began to thrust in and out. The sensation was exquisite—the fullness, the depth, the feeling of being completely claimed by him. Your nails dug into his shoulders, and you arched your back, pressing your breast against his chest. Your hips undulated in time with his rhythm, begging for more.

His tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth as he began to thrust harder inside you. You moaned loudly against his lips, needing more of him. With one last glance at you, Miguel allowed himself to give in to the passion that had been building between them. As his pace quickened, his free hand slid down your body until it found its way to your clit. He started rubbing it in circles, adding another layer of pleasure to an already intense experience.

You continued to moan his name, and his own pleasure intensified. His hips bucked against yours in time with the thrusts of his cock as he reached for your clit again. He rubbed it harder, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The desk beneath you creaked under the force of your movements. You could feel the heat between your legs building up, ready to explode at any moment.

“That's it,” Miguel whispered hoarsely against your lips. “Let go for me.” With one final thrust, he plunged deep inside you, filling you completely. And then you both did—you screamed out his name as your orgasm crashed over you in a wave of blissful release.

His hot seed filled you up, and together you panted and shook from the intensity of their shared experience. As your heart rate slowed and the world around you started to fade back into focus, Miguel leaned in for another kiss, this one tender and full of love.

𝐀/𝐍: I do not own any of the pictures and are solely from Pinterest.

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umbrella-show · 5 months

Text

Platonic Yan Rottmnt

「 ✦ 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐘𝐚𝐧 𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐌𝐍𝐓 𝐱 𝐌𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐭.𝟐 ✦ 」

Part 2 is finally here and there will be a part 3 to finish off this mini series! \(^▽^)/ I'm sorry this took so long to post. A family member recently passed away and I was processing that while having to go to school and being swamped with schoolwork. Finals are also coming like next week but after that I get a two week break so I'll definitely be writing some more when that comes. Anyways I hope yall enjoy! Words : 2,411

THIS IS IN NO WAY APPROVING OF A ABUSIVE OR TOXIC RELATIONSHIP Warnings : Delusion, Kidnaping.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Being stuck for many months in what you learned was the Hamato brother’s lair was tiring. No, scratch that, it was exhausting. All of them were clingy, needy and especially overprotective. They also began addressing you like you were family, and started trying to spend time with you like you had lived with them your whole life.

Mikey was always trying to cling to you, whether it be holding your hand, carrying you throughout the lair, or just unexpectedly jumping on you and piggyback riding off of your back, clinging to you for dear life like a koala. He basically begged for your affection, trying so hard to take up all of your time with art, cooking, baking and anything else he could think of that would keep you occupied with him. He also called you his twin. Which, sure you were basically the same age as him, and you both were mutant turtles, but you had no connection to any of them whatsoever. You had learned how the Hamato’s had become mutants in the first place, but you all had never met before you or they were mutated, and you two didn’t even share the same birthday. Yet he seemed persistent to call you two twins.

Leo was obviously the jokester out of the four. He makes multiple one-liners around you, trying to make you laugh. He also made many jokes about New Jersey of all places, which you didn’t get. He wasn’t as touchy as Mikey, but he liked to occasionally put an arm around your shoulder or rest his elbow on your head. He seemed more possessive of you, making plans with you to read Jupiter Jim comics and get defensive when his brothers tried to take you away to do something else with them. He also liked to mix in some Spanish into his speech at times. He mostly calls you hermana/hermano.

Donnie was very protective of you. He made sure you balanced out your nutrients and ate food that would make sure your blood sugar levels were at normal rates. He knew what foods you could and couldn’t eat. He made sure you were hydrated and healthy. He knew most about your species. He had spent time studying your behaviors for the first few days you were brought to the lair. He also forbade you to do things that he thought you could harm yourself doing. Even simple things, like reaching items from up high, because, according to Donnie, the item you were reaching for could fall on your head so hard it could knock you out or cause you a concussion. Yeah, you didn’t get that rule. You had to ask either Donnie or his other brothers to help you. He also placed multiple cameras and alarms throughout your new room at your arrival, making sure he can monitor you at all times.

Raph was somewhat of a more tolerable one. While he was a bit more overprotective of you than Donnie, he was the one that gave you the most space and privacy. He was already worried he could possibly hurt you because of his strength, which made him back off a bit. He also was the only one who insisted on your personal space when Leo or Mikey were being too overbearing with their affection and touchiness. He made sure you at least ate breakfast, lunch and dinner, and sometimes would walk up to you, give you a small snack, gently pat your head like one would do to a cat, and anxiously leave without a word. You knew he could be a little shy around you, most likely due to an insecurity that you might not like him or think he’s not doing enough for you. He also occasionally likes to carry you in his arms.

Hell, even their dad, Splinter, grew attached to you. He calls you Yellow due to the spots on your body and shell, and practically treats you like one of his own. Except he makes more of an effort to talk and spend quality time with you. You found out he used to be a movie star named Lou Jitstu before he was mutated by some sheep guy named Baron Draxum.

Overall, you despised it here. You just want freedom. To see the sky again. To try and adjust to the circumstances of becoming a mutant by yourself and live a peaceful life where you're not constantly babied by everyone around you. That’s why you tried your first, and hopefully last, escape attempt.

—

You mentally went over the plan again and again in your mind, looking for possible flaws. A sense of doubt gnawed at the back of your mind. What if the plan didn’t work? What would happen to you then? You huffed at your own anxious thoughts, turning to face the curtain that was the door to your room. It led into the main room of the maze that was the Hamato’s lair. Thankfully, there was an extra room in the lair that the brothers had converted into a bedroom for you, despite Mikey’s protests and insisting you slept in his room in a separate hammock.

You took shaky deep breaths in and out a couple times to calm down. You could do this. The timing had to be just right. Speaking of time, you glanced at the digital alarm clock that rested on your bedside table. 5:21 AM. Okay, just a few more minutes and your plan would be set in motion.

You decided a time closer to the morning would work better, considering the brothers seemed to be active most in the night. A time closer to morning was usually when they slept. It would be the perfect time to sneakily leave your room. You decided trying to sneak straight to the manhole wasn’t an option. You knew Donnie would have some kind of security near there. Not only to keep you in, but to also keep unwanted strangers out. Luckily the lair had multiple entry and exit points that mostly led into the tunnels of the sewers. From there, you would have to try and find your way out from there. It wasn’t the most thought out plan since you had only gotten to explore the tunnels when Raph went Savage. If everything goes wrong and you end up with the brothers on your tail, your next bet is to swim your way away. Or at least try to. You assumed you could at least swim pretty well since you were a turtle now. You hoped that you wouldn’t have to resort to that though. Those waters looked disgusting and dirty and gross. Glancing at the alarm clock again you realized it was about time for you to activate your plan. A few minutes had passed since the last time you had looked at the time. Propping yourself on your elbows in the bed you took another deep breath. The time was now. You could do this. You slowly lifted your body into a sitting position, letting your legs dangle off of the edge of the bed for a few moments before pushing yourself to stand. Your crept towards the curtain, holding it open slightly so you could peek through the other side. Nothing. Everything was dead silent. Good. Slowly and soundlessly pushing the curtain further aside, you made sure to take slow steps to make as little noise as possible. You soon were standing in the middle of the main room, in the center of the natural light that came from the ceiling, the moonlight shining almost a spotlight on your figure as you continued to creep closer and closer towards the tunnel entry. A loud heavy bang of metal made you harshly flinch and hitch your breath. You froze up, staying as still as a statue. After a couple agonizingly long seconds, you turned your head towards the source of the noise. Light came from inside Donnie’s lab that spilled out of the door. You could barely hear sounds of metal objects being moved around in there and mentally cursed. Of course Donnie was awake. Why did you not think of that!? He basically ran on coffee 24/7 and was known for pulling multiple all-nighters on tech and inventions. He didn’t seem to notice you were out of your room though, considering he hasn’t come out of his yet. From the sound that came from his lab you assumed he was building something and was most likely putting his full attention on it. You hoped at least.

Whatever. You had no time to ponder. You took another slow step forward, keeping a slow and silent place towards the large metal entry to the labyrinth of sewers. Even after you made it beyond the tunnel entry, you still continued to slowly tiptoe your way until you were sure you were completely out of sight. After turning a quick corner in the tunnel, you laid your back against the stone wall and slowly panted with wide eyes. You took a moment before snapping out of your shock trance. No time to stop and rest now. Forcefully pushing yourself off of the wall you bolted down the tunnels, desperately looking for any traces of a possible exit. Your feet slapped against the cold stone floor, turning multiple corners. You could only briefly remember the paths that you had taken when exploring the sewers looking for Raph. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you skidded around another corner. Luckily, there were graffiti drawings on most of the walls, most likely done by Mikey, that you used as a map. And based on the graffiti, you were almost there. You were almost free!

Your blood suddenly went cold when you heard it. Another set of feet slapping against the floor at a rapid pace somewhere behind you. No. No way you were stopping now that you had gotten this far. You urged your legs to run faster, using all of your strength to keep going. You glanced at a graffiti drawing of a smiley face melting and a small light of hope shone in you. This was it. Bolting around the last corner, you took only a few swift steps before leaping into the canal of green murky water that splashed violently along the rounded walls of the sewer tunnel. You ungracefully crashed into the water with a loud splash, the strong current taking you away.

You poked your head out of the water, coughing a bit, Another splash came from somewhere behind you, and snapping your head in that direction, you saw a Donnie hot on your trail, swimming without a problem towards you. How did he know you had left so quick!? He must have placed some kind of alert in the sewer tunnels too. You panicked, taking in a gulp of air and submerging yourself back under the water. You swam as fast as you could, violently kicking your legs as the current continued to sweep you to what you hoped to be the exit. You held your breath for as long as you could, occasionally throwing your head above the water to take in a large heave of air before continuing to swim with the overpowering tide.

You didn't know how long you had been swimming. What was probably seconds felt like forever. You could swim pretty fast. Almost faster than Donnie, but he was catching up.

A dead end with a tunnel. You could see a tunnel ahead, blocked by a rusted circular vault door with a wheel handle. Looking over your shoulder you could see Donnie's faint silhouette swimming towards you at a scarily quick pace. You needed to get the vault open and quick. You could feel your lungs desperately begging for air. Your hands gripped the wheel as you placed your feet against the stone wall, using all your strength to turn it. The wheel had obviously not been used in a while, from how hard it was to turn and how slow it did. You panicked slightly, using more of your strength. Bubbles left your mouth as your hands gripped the wheel tighter. Slowly but surely the wheel began to turn and after a few more seconds you were able to pry the metal vault open. You swung it open and hastily swam through the tunnel. You turned around, catching a quick glance at Donnie who was dangerously close, and slammed the vault shut, turning the handle as far as it could go. You then felt the wheel break off from the vault in your hands. You flinched when you heard a loud bang from the other side, and quickly fled.

Your lungs burned. If you didn’t get oxygen soon you would drown here. Swimming as fast as you could, you saw not far ahead was the end of the tunnel that led to more water, except the water was cleaner. Kicking your legs fiercely, you swam out of the tunnel and immediately swam up. Your head burst out of the water, taking in a loud gasp of air. The harsh inhale of air prompted you to cough harshly. You looked around for land, still coughing violently and wheezing. A wooden dock was the first thing you saw and you promptly began to weakly doggy paddle towards it. Your hands gripped the edge of the dock, slowly pulling yourself on it. You flopped on your stomach, panting heavily as water dripped off of your body. You rolled on to your back instead, spreading your limbs in a starfish position.

You looked up at the sun, squinting your eyes at the bright light. Using your arm to shield your eyes, the realization hit you with a burst of joy. The blue sky. The bright sun. You were free. You were finally free! You sat up, the adrenaline wearing off slowly. You knew you couldn't stay for long. Who knows when the brothers would be after after Donnie alerts them you had run away. You got up, having a bit of trouble from your shaking and sore legs from all of the tiring running and swimming. You stumbled as you walked at a quick pace across the dock and towards the tall city buildings that could be seen from your location. You need to get as far as possible from the escape exit you just took. You hoped you never saw those turtles ever again.

#rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #yandere rottmnt #x reader #yandere rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #yandere

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anipgarden · 8 months

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What to Do Once Things Are Planted?

This is my seventh post in a series I’ll be making on how to increase biodiversity on a budget! I’m not an expert--just an enthusiast--but I hope something you find here helps!

So you’ve gotten started on making a garden to boost biodiversity! 10/10, excellent work! So, now what?

First, you’ll need to keep watering the plants--especially if you’re going through a dry season. Native plants will be more acclimated to your area’s seasonal weather, but they’ll need a helping hand while they’re getting established--especially if you’re starting with young, tender seedlings. With that in mind, if you accidentally skip out on crucial watering days, don't panic! There's been tons of times where I haven't watered for an entire summer and had perennials come back the next spring! Even this year, during a heatwave, I completely did not water my swamp milkweeds, but they're already popping back up! You may also need to go in and weed, especially if you’re seeing invasive species popping up in the garden. Invasives are no good--if you do anything, do your best to get those out as effectively and safely as possible!

If you’re needing to maintain your shrubs in spring and summer, double check to make sure there are no active bird or insect nests within them. If it’s possible to wait until later to cut your shrubs, it could be extremely beneficial.

When fall and winter come around and your plants begin to die back, don’t cut them away if you can! Many insects overwinter in the plant stems left behind as perennials die back to the roots. In addition, birds will use seed heads as a source of food over the winter. Try not to clean things up until late winter/early spring, when other food sources are beginning to come back and things are growing again. By then, the insects should be waking up and leaving the plant stems as well.

However, don’t let this discourage you from collecting seeds! Collecting seed from your plants is a great way to continue gardening at low cost, as well as making friends and encouraging others to garden by trading seeds or offering them as gifts. If you're in an area where you do need to cut back, this is a great opportunity to collect the seeds and save them for the future. You could also cut back what’s dying in the front yard and keep things to overwinter in the backyard. Some overwintering habitat is better than no overwintering habitat.

Want to know how to collect seeds from specific plants? I've found YouTube to be a great source of info for this! Knowing what you're doing and when is key to getting a viable harvest.

As your mulch begins to break down, you’ll need to keep adding more to top it off, if you can. It can get a bit repetitive, but no worries--the mulch breaking down means your soil is improving!

If possible, add to your garden! Expand, add in new things, and keep encouraging the growth of native plants. If you couldn’t add that water feature in year one, see if you can in year two! New interest in birds? Add a birdhouse, or more bird feeders. Loving the butterflies? Add plenty more nectar-rich plants, or do more research into what they lay their eggs on! Want more color? See what else you can add in! Came into some new pots to expand your flowerpot garden with? Find cool native plants to put in them! I always encourage people to start small and then expand over time, as opposed to starting big and getting overwhelmed.

Keep learning and observing native species of birds, insects, mammals, etc. See what’s coming to your yard now, and look into how you can improve things more for them on your budget. If you aren’t seeing what you were hoping, see if there’s other actions you can take that’ll attract what you’re hoping to see in your backyard habitat. Knowing more about the world around you makes it easier to know how to help the world around you. Talk to others about what you’re doing, the changes you’ve made, and the results you’ve seen! Curious neighbors? Work friends? Your closest homies? Your family? All fair game! You just might be the one who gets someone else interested in making their space a habitat for local wildlife!

That’s the end of this post! My next post is gonna be about the secret Other Thing you can do to help biodiversity--tackling invasives! Until then, I hope this advice was helpful! Feel free to reply with any questions, your success stories, or anything you think I may have forgotten to add in!

#biodiversity #solarpunk #gardening #outdoor gardening #ani rambles #out of queue #the biodiversity saga #at least it hasn't been 2 months since the last post amiright #i know its september so by this point a lot of northern hemisphere folks are winding down on gardening #buuuut winter's a good time to buy seeds for cheap! and for plotting and planning #and meanwhile the southern hemisphere will be just gearing up!#either way I hope this advice has been helpful so far!

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eggluverz · 8 months

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hey~ fellow writer here!

Do you have some modern/college au Dan Heng x F! Reader head-canons? Your writing literally fixes my writer's block tysm!!!! Maybe once I get my life together we can be writing friends :)

🩵🩵🩵

dan heng college au headcanons

PAIRING. dan heng x f!reader

GENRE. modern au, college au, fluff

SOF'S NOTE. HI HI FELLOW WRITER :3 ty for the req i hope u enjoy these random college hc's hehe + i hope u can get thru ur writers block soon 🥺 and we can be friends even if ur not in a writing phase rn !! i def don't mind, new friends are always welcome 🩵🩵

dan heng seems quiet, but he is definitely not shy

he joins a few clubs that he has sincere interests in and attends the meetings pretty regularly

he mets you in one of them

you’re paired together for an awkward club bonding activity but somehow hit it off

from there you hang out on-campus together

study sessions in the library, late night fast food runs, early morning cafe meetings… you easily become a big part of his life and he enjoys every moment of it

he is not much of a party person, but he will go with you if you ask

the frat bros try to get him to rush but he isn’t interested in joining (he has enough on his plate as is)

when he’s at a party with you, he holds your drink and watches over it when you go to the bathroom

if you ever look uncomfortable with a guy trying to dance with you, dan heng is there by your side in an instant

he has 100% had to pretend to be your boyfriend to get persistent men off your back

one night you ask “what if you really were my boyfriend?”

dan heng wonders if you’re asking sincerely or as a joke, but you just smile and giggle instead of elaborating

dan heng is a diligent student and enjoys his studies

however he will get sidetracked during study sessions by going down random, semi-related rabbit holes instead of the actual topic at hand

dan heng is an avid proponent for office hours

he will go whenever he has questions or ideas

he offers to go with you if you get too nervous to go alone

he walks you to the professor’s office and waits outside for you to finish, giving you a small pep talk and gentle squeeze on your arm to calm your nerves

dan heng is supportive and sweet and everything you’d want in a bf :3

during stressful times when it feels like everything in the world has piled up (projects are due, exams are coming, group presentations are scheduled), he feels like he can come to you for comfort

you’re both drowning in work but at least it’s together <3 and you always remind him to take breaks when he needs

once, when he was really swamped with work and extracurriculars, he became too stressed and got sick

you make him a care package with some medicine, cough drops, tissues, tea packets, honey, and a little teddy bear to keep him company

you come over to make him soup even though he says not to bc he doesn’t want to get you sick

you wear a mask and come over anyway, not wanting your best friend to be alone while he’s both stressed and sick

“don’t forget to take care of yourself,” you say worriedly, wiping the sweat of his forehead with a cool cloth and serving him some soup in bed (you’re in college so the soup is just chicken flavored ramen with egg added, but it’s the thought that counts)

dan heng realizes how grateful he is that he has you

in his sick and dazed stupor he says he wants to be your boyfriend and kisses your cheek

you ask if he really means it

dan heng’s eyes widen when he realizes what he just said but he didn’t take it back. he meant it, after all

“yes, i mean it. will you be my girlfriend?”

you get so excited you nod and kiss him, forgetting he’s sick

you catch his cold the next day but easily decide it was worth it :3

#dan heng x reader #dan heng headcanons #hsr x reader #hsr headcanons #honkai star rail #hsr #dan heng #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng imagines #hsr imagines

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alloftheimaginesblog · 10 months

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why can't you see {peeta mellark}

plot: you're peeta's best friend and you've loved him ever since you could remember.

character: peeta mellark x reader

fandom: the hunger games

You sighed as you watched him as his strong arms tensed and flexed as he carried in the sacks of flour for his father. The way he could lift such heavy things without even breaking a slight sweat was impressive, what was even more impressive was that smile. Bright and happy; the exact opposite of everything in District 12.

"Hey, mouse," Peeta grinned, welcoming you as he dumped the bags of flour behind the counter, "What you doing here?" You smiled at the nickname he made for you years and years ago which started when he gave you a fright and you squeaked... like a mouse. Pretty self explanatory. Even now, years later, it still made you smile and sent a flurry of butterflies flying in your stomach.

"I remembered you saying that you were swamped this weekend with baking cakes for the Madge's birthday." Madge was the Mayor's daughter who was the same age as you and Peeta and in the same class too. She was a nice girl, friendly. It was her birthday and her father was sparing no expense. She was throwing a party on Sunday afternoon and the whole class was invited. You and Peeta were going but the order for cupcakes was pretty massive so you decided to come over early Saturday to help.

"You'd help?" Peeta smiled, flashing those big eyes at you, "That would be great, mouse. I'll get everything prepared."

It wasn't uncommon for you to help Peeta's family in the bakery. Usually most weekends you would come help. Peeta's father would always send you home with a fresh loaf of bread in your bag and some pastries for your family. Peeta's mother wasn't aware of the deal you two had but if she asked, Peeta's father would say he burned them or dropped them so they couldn't sell. It also meant that you got to spend more time with Peeta.

You and Peeta had been friends for years - best friends. You spent most of your free time together. Peeta would paint, you would observe or maybe do some writing of your own. He was the nicest person you'd ever met. District 12 didn't have many people like Peeta anymore. District 12 was cold, isolated... sad and so were it's people but not Peeta. Peeta was happy, always seeing the positives and always smiling. He could always make you laugh so who could blame you for falling head over heels in love with him?

You didn't really know when you fell in love with him, maybe you always had been. All you knew was that it was a hopeless cause. Peeta Mellark could never be in love with you for he had forever been in love with Katniss Everdeen.

As the first tray of cupcakes baked in the oven, Peeta began to make the icing. You watched him work, watching as his skilled fingers plucked out the different food colourings to mix the perfect shades of pink, purple and blue.

"Oh," Peeta said, "almost forgot." He wiped his hands on his apron before grabbing a bag from underneath the counter, "From my dad. He," he glanced around, "burned them pretty bad." The two of you shared a secret smile as you dug out two perfectly crisp and baked cheese buns. You inhaled deeply, about to tell Peeta that they were your favourite when he said, "You know, I think Katniss likes these." You stopped, smile falling but quickly caught yourself and smiled, making 'hm?' noise, "Yeah, I made some for Madge's party but some really did get burnt so was selling them dirt cheap and Katniss bought them all... She doesn't ever come in usually but she must love them cause she bought all of them!"

You forced a wide smile, "Amazing, Peeta... Or maybe she just came in to see you?" It killed you to give him hope but you wanted him to be happy even if it wasn't with you. If you got to see him happy then it was all worth it in the end.

Peeta's face lit up, "You- You really think so?" Quickly, his smile fell and hope died, "Nah, I'm- I'm nothing. She wouldn't like me."

"What's not to like?" You asked softly, "You're unlike anyone I've ever met, Peets. You're..." A giant wave of sadness washed over you as you spoke, "You're so kind, always thinking of others. You're so generous and helpful. You would do anything for anyone. You're a great baker so she'd always have lots of treats to eat-" Peeta laughed, "you're handsome, one look at those puppy dog eyes and she'll be weak in the knees."

"You really mean all that?"

"Course I do. Why can't you see yourself the way I see you?" You reached out, wiping flour from his cheek, "You're incredible, Peeta, and if she doesn't see that, it's her damn loss."

"Thanks, mouse," Peeta grinned, wrapping you in a one armed hug. You breathed him in, relishing in his warmth, "I'm so lucky to have a friend like you." You hummed into his shoulder, keeping your fake smile plastered as tears burned at your eyes.

"Yeah..." you whispered, "friend."

#one shot #os #prompt #long prompt #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark #the hunger games #the hunger games imagine #imagine #peeta mellark imagine #peeta mellark x you #thg #thg imagine #thg one shot

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