inbox #9
1. bangtan, jin/suga, handcuffed together for variety purposes, any rating
2. nine muses/vixx, kyungri/ken, detective au, any rating
3. bangtan, j-hope/jungkook, watersports, r-nc17
4. hello venus, nara/yooyoung, socialite au, any rating
5. spica, bohyung/jiwon, jiwon is a fairy who lives in the forest where bohyung jogs, any ratingplease
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The paper band holding their wrists together pulls tight and for a horrifying moment Seokjin is sure that it’s going to rip,
“Yoongi! Slow down, if this thing tears we’re both out of the game!”
“Well maybe you should hurry up then,” Yoongi hisses back at him, “come on slowpoke we’ve gotta move,”
“I’m running as fast as I can,”
“Seriously?” Yoongi looks genuinely concerned, “this is as fast as you can move?”
Seokjin pouts, “there’s no need to be a dick about it you know, we can’t all be natural born athletes.”
“Evidently not…”
“What did I say about being a dick?”
“I dunno what did you say about sucking my dick?” Yoongi cackles at the expression Seokjin's expression of outrage.
“I am your hyeong, show a little respect.”
Yoongi sticks his tongue out and Seokjin steps forward as if to hit him. Yoongi backs up quickly (because when Seokjin decides he’s going to hit someone it usually hurts. A lot.), but he’s caught by the front of his shirt before he can make a proper escape .
“You are gonna slow the fuck down and sit the fuck down,” Seokjin mutters, far too deep into Yoongi’s personal space, “I refuse to lose this stupid challenge to your need to inflate your ego. Now take my hand,”
Yoongi blinks, “what?”
“Take my hand so I can stop you when you decide to go all Usain Bolt on me. Now Yoongi!”
Yoongi slides his palm into Seokjin’s and tries not to blush, “this is so weird,”
“You’re holding my fucking hand, it’s not like I’m trying to suck your dick.”
“Well maybe I’d be having more fun if you were.”
This time, Seokjin really does hit him.
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