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#none of them are fully formed though

parachutingkitten · 8 months

Text

Fireflies

Proving that he didn't kill his dad, or at least assist in his assassination proves to be a difficult task for Benthomaar, and with a public quickly turning violent, he decides that retreating into hiding is his best option at the moment. Luckily the ninja have a great secluded contact to send him to. ~2800 words

Vania hesitated a moment before knocking on the door. She knew this was going to be a difficult situation to navigate. She wanted to talk to him, she wanted to lend an ear, but she didn’t know if he would want to talk at all. After all, he had only just arrived this morning, and he certainly had a lot to process. Circumstances were grim, but there wasn’t much point in letting him wallow in it. Regardless, she had come prepared… with cookies. Everyone could always use a cookie.

It was only a few seconds after she knocked before Benthomaar answered the door. “Oh! Queen Vania! I didn’t-”

“No, it’s nothing,” she waved it off. “I just brought you some fresh baked cookies!” She smiled, raising up the plate she held.

She was met with a largely blank stare and a slow nod. “Of course, come in.” He welcomed her inside, his figure turned around before she had even made it through the frame. Vania carefully stepped inside, closing the door behind herself. “I’m sorry I haven’t had much of a presence.” He plopped down on the edge of his bed, running his fingers through his hair. “I’ve been… a bit out of sorts.” His gaze was distracted, his mind obviously not entirely present.

“You don’t need to apologize. You’ve been through a lot.” Not knowing quite what to do with the cookies, she continued to hold them in the least awkward way she could manage. “I’m honestly surprised you’re as composed as you are.” I suppose death threats and assassination attempts are somewhat expected for royalty, but she had never had to deal with it before.

“It's just…” he paused, his eyes stuck in the middle distance. “A lot to consider. I’m not even sure I’ve processed that I’m here yet.”

Struggling still to land a connection, she turned to her life preserver. “You know, the cookies really are best when they’re warm.”

He finally snapped out of his daze, a soft smile finally gracing his lips. “Right.” He took the plate, grabbing a cookie from the pile and taking a bite. His face exploded in surprise, his eyes growing wide. “You weren’t kidding! These are delicious!”

Vania chuckled. The cookies had worked.

“Here, you want one?” He offered one to her.

“Oh, no.” Vania shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“You said it yourself, they’re best when they’re warm.” He grinned before taking another bite.

She took the bait, sitting down next to him, and gladly munching on the snack. “They really are.”

“Well, thank you for being so accommodating on such short notice,” Benthomaar set the plate down on the bed between them, the tension now significantly broken.

“Of course!” Vania shrugged. “Any friend of the ninja is a friend of mine.”

“You all are close?”

“We are!” Vania smiled, genuinely excited by the thought. “I honestly can’t believe it sometimes.”

“Really?” Benthomaar laughed.

“Yeah, I idolized them like crazy before I met them! You know, I had the biggest celebrity crush on Cole.”

“You don’t say?” Benthomaar’s eyes narrowed as he took another bite of his cookie.

“Yeah, and he’s great,” Vania mused. “A lot different than I imagined, but it still boggles my mind that we’re as good of friends as we are.”

“Well, I’m glad they were able to put in a good word for me.”

“Sure, I’m glad to have you.” Vania smiled, her eyes shifting down as the mood in the room once again sunk. “It sucks that you have to be here in the first place though.”

Benthomaar sighed, reaching for another cookie. “Well, it is difficult to rule people who want nothing to do with you.” He broke the cookie in half, defeated.

“It’s so ridiculous! I mean, you risked your life trying to defend your kingdom, and yet you get labeled a traitor!”

“Well, it’s complicated. There isn’t any real evidence of what happened to my father. Only the sudden appearance of outsiders right before his death, and my siding with them.”

“The ninja could testify, right? They saw what happened. And some of them are robots, you could compel them to tell the truth!”

“People just don’t trust it. They’re wary of the technology. It comes from surface dwellers.” His words sounded rehearsed, as if he’d gone over this talking point dozens of times now.

Vania took another bite of her cookie, sitting in thought for a moment. “You know, I have an excellent magic consultant. I know he’s produced visions before. I could ask if he might be able to summon one of the past.”

Benthomaar’s eyes perked up. “That… could be helpful.”

“Well, I can certainly look into it,” she smiled.

“I appreciate it,” he nodded, his mind again wandering far from this room.

Vania studied his expression, still hoping to make a connection. “What do you miss most about it?”

Benthomaar again looked up, a smile sneaking onto his face as he pondered. “It’s going to sound terribly obvious.”

“Shoot,” Vania shrugged.

He drew in a breath, still a bit hesitant. “Everything here is so much… drier.”

Vania chuckled. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

“I mean it!” he insisted. “Even just the air, when you’re used to high humidity, is so noticeable! And it’s all around you, all the time.”

“Well, maybe we should bring up a humidifier for you!” Vania giggled.

“Really?” he asked.

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“That would be nice,” he sighed, quickly jolting back up. “Not that you haven’t been plenty accommodating already, I mean this room is fantastic.”

“Oh, it’s definitely the best of the guest rooms,” Vania agreed. “Have you seen the view out of your balcony?!” Vania jumped up excitedly.

“Just out the window from here-” Benthomaar muttered.

Vania picked up the plate of cookies, already headed for the doors. “You’ve gotta see it!” Her feet had already taken her halfway across the room before Benthomaar had found the ability to stand.

She threw open the doors to the cooled air of the night, placing the cookies down on the small dining set which lived on the balcony.

“It really is the best view in the castle!” she boasted. “Of course, you can see everything a little better by day, but right below us are the palace gardens, and a little further out you can see the east tower-”

She continued as Benthomaar took his first steps outside, his eyes instantly drawn upwards.

“Of course, you can see the palace gates, and the guard houses.” She leaned over the balcony, craning her neck to stretch her sightline along the castle’s wall. “And if you lean far enough out, you can even see my room!” She smiled, finally turning back to see her guest.

Benthomaar had also made it to the railing, his weight comfortably resting upon it as his gaze still sat firmly above, his expression in awe. Vania felt a bit foolish at her ramblings now. He had already found the best feature of the view.

“There’s so many of them,” he marveled, his voice almost a whisper.

She smiled at his wonder, joining him as her eyes too turned upward. “When I was little, I thought that once I got my wings, I’d be able to fly up to the stars, and catch one in between my hands like a firefly.”

“Firefly?” Benthomaar asked, eyes still stuck on the vast expanse above him.

“Have you never seen fireflies before?” Vania asked.

“I can’t say I have.” Benthomaar shook his head.

“Well, I’ll have to show you sometime,” Vania decided.

“They seem so close from up here. They’re so much brighter,” Benthomaar sighed.

“I wouldn’t really know,” Vania shrugged. “I’ve never seen them from anywhere else.”

Benthomaar’s eyes finally strayed from the sky back to his companion. “I don’t know why you don’t just spend all your time out here.”

“I wish I could,” she giggled. “But you know, I’ve got stuff to do. Kingdom to run. Not much time for stargazing.” Her tone dropped in tone as she spoke, the weight of her responsibilities obviously sneaking into her mind.

“Is the new job hard on you?” Benthomaar asked.

“Not as hard as it’s been on you,” Vania noted. “But it’s been a lot. The whole kingdom pretty much doubled in population, so just working out relocation and basic distribution of resources has been difficult. Not to mention trying to work around cultural differences and pre-existing social grudges.” Vania turned away from the railing, her image now facing the castle. “On top of that, a vital source of income for the kingdom is now a complete non-starter, meaning our economy is mostly shot, and trying to get any sort of outside revenue back is difficult, because our kingdom has historically been incredibly reclusive, so it’s not exactly like we have great connections to lean back on. And between the complete social upheaval and the broken economy I just… don’t know what I’m doing!” her eyes had fallen to the ground as the strain became more evident in her voice. “I was nowhere close to completing my training, I wasn’t supposed to be doing anything like this for years, let alone be thrown in at the deep end like this, and I just… I can’t do it! I’m not mentally capable! I’m not-”

Vania sighed, her eyes finally returning to Benthomaar.

“I’m not my dad, you know?”

Vania pushed off from the railing, Benthomaar’s vision following her as she left for the table instead, quickly melting into one of the seats and staring at the cookie plate.

Benthomaar was quiet for a moment, adjusting to the shift in the conversation.

“Have you…” he hesitated, unsure if it was wise to take the topic where his mind had gone. “Have you talked to him at all? After he was put away?”

He studied her as her body shrank inwards ever so slightly.

“You don’t have to answer if it’s not-”

“No, it’s okay,” Vania interjected. “I, um…” her eyes glanced over at him. “I haven’t spoken with him at all since the incident.”

Benthomaar fully leaned back against the railing, pondering her answer. “You know, I’ve been thinking about all the things I would want to tell my brother, if he had made it through the battle.” His eyes wandered as he thought, caught again in the middle distance they had been stuck in through most of the day. “All the things I’d want to confront him with, prove to him, scream at him. All these words that I have caught up in my head that don’t have anywhere to go anymore.” His eyes finally stabilized on Vania again. “But if he were still here, and I were given the chance to talk to him… I don’t know if I could actually do it.”

Vania sat up a bit, her eyes now lost. “You know, I’ve thought about it,” she admitted. “I’ve thought about it a lot. I was trapped with that man my whole life. He was putting on a facade for me my entire life. Everything that I thought was love and affection was this twisted other thing. He was the most important person in my entire world, and he was never really there. And that does things to you when you realize. And you keep on making realizations, for weeks, months afterwards, how thoroughly every piece of what you thought was your life is a lie, and you’re forced to just sit there and watch as it all disintegrates. It breaks you.”

The two now faced each other, their eyes locked. “I have so much I want to say to him. But when someone’s in your head that deeply, when someone’s been able to hurt you that much, the idea of opening up that line of communication again, even one way, is… terrifying.” Her voice shrunk as she continued. “Because even just admitting to them that you’re still thinking about them, in any capacity, it lets them back inside your head.”

The air between them sat unmovable as the tension reached its peak. “My father adopted me after I was abandoned by my birth parents,” Benthomaar started. “He was the only one who really ever cared for me, and he died in my arms. Kalmaar knew me best of anyone else, and he’s gone, and now even my own people don’t want me.” Vania could see a gloss begin to envelop his eyes. “I’ve never felt so completely alone in my whole life. So, to cut ties with anyone at this point… seems like such an impossible idea to me.”

His eyes had wandered to the ground by now, but Vania’s impulses took her upward. “You’ve got me.” She stood, rather suddenly.

Benthomaar’s eyes glanced up, a bit confused. “What?”

Vania reached back to the table, picking up a cookie as she strode forward.

“You’ve got me.” She held out the cookie to her puzzled companion now just inches from her, his hand, hesitantly moving forward to accept it. “Maybe I don’t know you very well yet, but I certainly know what you’re going through. I’ve lost and been betrayed by people I love. I’ve been saddled with an insane amount of royal responsibility at very short notice. I’ve been through a life altering piece of trauma before being thrust into an unreasonable amount of stress.” His hand had taken the cookie, but his mind was so fixed on her sudden burst of confidence that its presence was now an afterthought. “And I know it’s tough, but I’ve been through the first bit of this, and I’m here for you. And for the rest of it, we can figure it out together, which is a whole heck of a lot better than trying to figure it out alone. So, please don’t think that you’re alone, because I won’t let another person go through what I’m going through by themselves if I can help it.”

Benthommar stared at her with a gaze he hadn’t felt leave his eyes in a while. It seemed impossible to look away from the woman who had so quickly come to defend him from his own downward spiral. There was a pure sense of hope that filled him for the first time in days now. Vania shrunk back in a moment of realization. “If you want me. I don’t mean to be imposing, you don’t really know me.” She shook her head, her arms crossing over her chest.

“No,” Benthomaar stopped her. “I feel like I do,” he pressed. “Well enough anyway.”

His gaze softened her demeanor, a soft smile gracing her lips. “Well, I’m glad I could earn your trust so quickly.”

“For the record, I think Shintaro is very lucky to have a leader as charming, kind, confident,” Benthomaar found the list of adjectives coming to him quicker than he could speak them. “brave, welcoming, honest, thoughtful, and beautiful as you.” Their eyes remained connected, trapped together in a trance which seemed unbreakable. A slight blush crept onto Vania’s cheeks accompanied by a feeling she had never quite felt before.

Benthomaar was snapped out of the daze as he realized what exactly he had just said.

“And such a wonderful baker!” he added, lifting the cookie still in his hand. He quickly took a bite, attempting to mask his nerves.

The chill of the night air filled the space between them as the two darted their eyes away from one another.

“Right!” Vania chuckled. “I do a lot of baking when I’m stressed, so I’ve gotten a lot of practice lately.”

“Anyway, I should probably let you get some rest,” Vania started. “It’s getting late, and I’m sure you’re probably exhausted.”

“Yes, of course,” Benthomaar sighed.

“But…” Vania’s eyes again found contact with Benthomaar’s. “Maybe I’ll see you for breakfast?”

“I’d like that.” He nodded slowly, his voice soft and gentle.

Their eyes remained connected a moment longer before Vania began to turn. “Well, goodnight. Sleep well.”

“You too,” Benthomaar returned as she approached the balcony doorway. “And,” he blurted out, his impulses stepping him forward.

She turned around in the door frame eager to hear him, her hands latching onto the divider in the middle. “Yes?”

Benthomaar’s lips parted, still a bit hesitant. “Thank you… for everything. It feels really good to smile again.”

Vania could sense the longing within his words, and feel her heart reach out in equal measure. “Of course.”

There was an unspoken pulse of understanding passed between them before Vania slowly turned, making her way out. Benthomaar’s eyes trailed her exit for a moment before he once more faced the balcony, his gaze turning upward. His mind was caught in a fog of feeling which he wasn’t eager to leave. There was a unique air of enchantment around him that he could only attribute to her. As his eyes danced across the stars, he found himself with a new impulse, imagining what it might be like to cup one in his hands, to hold that great a light so close to him. He smiled, his mind now wildly curious.

“...Fireflies.”

#my goodness this one has been a long time coming #ninjago benthomaar #ninjago vania #raincloudshipping #writing #one shot?#idk I've got ideas #none of them are fully formed though #ninjago

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cak31ssuperi04 · 1 year

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Do you have any general hcs of the 1bit/1beat cast? Anythings fine

Kind of rough but

-I've played around with the idea with Eruno being from an orphanage/foster home(the "because you've got a proper family" bit) but I go back and forth on this one.

-Nio and Sakuma are friends! He does shifts at Bitwave they hang out there. The poor boy needs someone to fend off the fangirls.

-Eruno and Akitaka accompany Haruya on deliveries sometimes. Pals.

-When Aira's mimetic muscles get installed she doesn't really quite get how to use them immediately. Her expressions start out real stiff(which she expresses dissatisfaction with, and gets help from the others) to real exaggerated and overplayed(think unbridled rage or pained anguish at things that just kind of annoy her).

-Also she has Kiri make her taller so she can grow alongside her friends!

-Also Also by 1beat she has at LEAST one sibling who's just, a really muscled out doll in frilly clothes.

-Meru listens to death metal. She'd hoped it'd help her stay up better but now she just kind of likes it.

-Outside of tending to the shrine, Hakuhi has embroidery as a hobby.

-Izuchi took piano lessons when he was younger(parents made him do it to try and play up the prodigy genius image). He quit.

-That potion thing he made in 1beat was ripped from Kirai's anime but in part he'd made it after Eruno came to him Demanding a way to make her dog live longer.

-He went to Blue sun college(less because he thought he needed to and more for the benefits a degree there would give him) and got into an apprenticeship with Kiri. He keeps the lab when Kiri moves to Coco Alley(easier to skirt by the law). Familiar with the Blue Sun Trio to some extent.

-He has a sweet tooth but doesn't really admit it because he deems it unhealthy.

-While he did have a hand in the creation of the master program, he doesn't stay on the team after it's finished. Does continue to get occasional updates about it from Hiyu and Nanase though.

-His room is all clean and organized on the surface(maybe a few seashell displays, a poster covering a hole in the wall) but he keeps all the goofy weird shit stored away in drawers and under his bed.*

-I've played around with the idea of there being a 3rd Nasuga sibling who's just too young to be relevant in the game(<-no canon basis i just thought it'd be fun) but I'm not sure if I'd keep that.

-Enri has a pet hamster! He's like the band's son.

-The gang Kirara used to be a part of was like a sparkly gyaru girl gang. She never really enjoyed fighting but took a lot of lessons growing up so she was really good at it. The gang is still going strong though and at least a few of her Gyaru Friends are members(and there's at least one member who's just a plain normal ass girl that hangs around them but that's getting into oc territory).

-Rocca ends up growing up to be like Really Fucking Tall. Momori models clothes on her and remarks that she could be a model if she didn't trip over herself so much(not that she'd want to be one anyways).

-Mary has 3 siblings, they've done a way better job at staying out of the public eye(and have grown somewhat distant from her as a result).

-On account of being friends with a lot of the townspeople and having a lot of relatives, Hitohito is just one of those guys with a lot of connections. In a "guy who knows a guy" way.

-Chino is Coco Alley's mom jkasdsa.

--She brings Sora(was familiar with his family and doesn't want him to get too lonely) cookies and flowers sometimes and while he's dismissive about it he does secretly appreciate it.

-Tobari is the heiress to a big tea emporium who dipped because she got bored and/or got into a disagreement with someone over there, but continues playing up her Elegant Fancy Lady image despite living paycheck to paycheck(which I mean, good for her I guess.)

-Although Sagara knows Asuto through Hitohito, they actually interact fairly regularly in anime forums.

-Hitohito, Izuchi, and Sagara were on friendly terms when they were kids but grew distant for reasons. Hitohito and Sagara had gotten back in touch and still hang out. Heat reached out to Izuchi but was promptly brushed off, still looks out for him. Izuchi and Sagara have a weird frenemy/rival thing going on.

-Sagara has no siblings she just kind of lives alone with her mom who may or may not hate her.(although it's less "hate" so much as disappointment)

-Sagara's chicken avatar is modeled after one of her childhood pets.

-Sagara definitely Naruto runs.

-She holds DnD(\Dnd adjacent. Just some ttrpg I'm not an expert) sessions at every couple of weeks. I'm not saying Izuchi willingly participates(those commoners are hopeless without his guidance), just that she didn't exactly have very many other people to invite(Hitohito and sometimes Meu and eventually Nanashi).

-She has a knack for trying to help townspeople as part of some sort of Magical Girl Code but isn't as good at it as she thinks she is.

-She has a compartment in her arm warmers that's full of bird feed, she's made an alliance with the pigeons.

-While she does cool it with the Organization stuff, she never drops the chuuni behavior. Eventually opens a small cake shop with some edgy chuuni-esque title(debated on whether it should be in the same place Little Berry was, like after little berry closes its doors).

-Nomiya and Hiyu butt heads a lot but they both get along fine with Azusa. Somebody needs to be nice to her god damn it.

-The Kujohs have a pet dog but it's actually Azusa's. Following with the rest of the family, it's a big intimidating dog that's actually just really chill. Enri has tried to look past it but he's always very leery about visiting them.

-Nomiya's riding an adrenaline high throughout most of the game but his more calm demeanor in his events is just him going in the opposite extreme as a result of coming down from it. He's usually fairly loud and confrontational, just not THAT loud and confrontational.

-He keeps in closest touch with Tobari after the hackers are disbanded. Somewhat on account of her being able to hold her own in Break Passage the best out of the other three. She views him as a weird little brother.

-The hackers hold gatherings in memory(or what little of that memory they even retained. It's mostly secondhand from Nanashi) of Mikado where they commit minor crimes. The gathering was Kotora's idea the crime was Nomiya's.

-Sagara has a journal that she calls the Abyss Tome that's just full of fanfiction and anime drawings of herself and her friends(/enemies). Has a bunch of spell names listed down in it.

-Saaya and Meu are friends! Saaya comes to her for divinations about her love life a lot and just ends up venting. Meu's happy to listen though and tries to comfort her the best she can.

-Speaking of therapy though, Saaya does get therapy sometime post-canon and distances herself from Nanase(while a lot of Nanashi's friendships that start off on the wrong foot have room for growth, the memory thing makes things kind of... weird with her). She's in a much better state by 1beat.

-Saaya writes a lot of poetry.

-Yoh and Sagara are related. Somehow(I did consider nephew at one point but that didn't really pan out).

-So are Hiyu and Arumu. They've got that green hair and funky eyebrows.

-Akuta and Kaori date briefly(well, she's a fan of his work, and he is rich, and while he can't speak multiple languages he is well-spoken, what could go wrong?) which just ends in them breaking up over a disagreement over a book's ending. That was more the final straw though, actually getting to know him put into perspective just how far from her expectations he actually is and she's not super pleased about it. They do stay friends but something something important lesson about your idols being people.

-I feel like I've said somewhere that Kotora leaves the cafe to Rocca when he retires but I need to clarify that Kotora keeps being the cafe guy well into old age and that Rocca would be a whole adult by then.

-Kaori was the youngest of her siblings and only one to stay with her mother, she sees her dad as a good for nothing deadbeat(it wasn't an amicable divorce) and the ordeal heavily influenced how she views romantic relationships as a whole. Grew up somewhat distant from Kotora and their sister but reconnected in adulthood.

-Her "ideal guy" is just the best traits of her favorite book leads cobbled together like some kind of frankenguy. (And she might be internalizing something... who knows)

-The world did enter a more 'cyberpunk dystopia'-esque futuristic state a long time ago and the return to more traditional old timey ways is sort of in response to that, but Yasune is the only one who'd actually lived through it. Although then again the 2nd oldest character in the game is only 36 so...

The post is starting to not process so I'm going to cut it off here.

#*The example I had listed on my hc file was 'life sized Danny Devito cardboard cutout' but I don't know if I want to keep that #The piano hc was more the remnant of a sweet beach band au I had because I was thinking about rainbow rocks again #Sweet beach is interestingly enough my go-to for aus. I've never even told you guys about the fantasy au #(they're just adventurers though it's nothing extravagant. It doesn't even cover all the characters)#Mary's parents were in the picture when she became an idol but her siblings were raised by their grandparents.#Tobari stays at hotels and spends most of her paycheck on fancy tea.#she's kind of ridiculous levels of Jack-Of-All-Trades but it helps that she's a fast learner #Chino wasn't incredibly close with Sora's parents(friends maybe) but that won't stop her from looking out for the boy. New son #Haruya was probably pals with his brother. Regardless of how he may have felt about Sora himself(scary)#Kirai probably made an offhanded comment about outgrowing everyone someday so he's really pissed when he ends up #shorter than both Haruya and Rocca #You probably were wanting more 1beat hcs but as much as I love the 1beat cast I've only replayed recently #so none of my thoughts about the cast are quite fully formed yet #Might make a follow up eventually though because the hc file is Long #Omitted most of the ones I've already talked about but since those are scattered about my tags and the server I probably #should've included some of those too. Feel free to ask for elaboration on anything #Some of them get kind of lengthy too and I left most of those out but I did leave a few in and just heavily handwaved the details #Some of the shorter ones were shortened too because the post just wouldn't process ashsaldhjka #pieceofcake.txt #cakeheadcanons

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romancerepulsed · 4 months

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aspec terms for beginners!

since it's trending right now, i feel like it might be helpful to clear up some basic aspec (but particularly aromantic, as we are the center of attention currently) terms. if you have absolutely any questions, i would be happy to answer, either in the replies, dms, or my inbox!

★・・・・・・★

the split attraction model (SAM): a model of human behavior that posits that, for some people, romantic and sexual attraction are not the same.

[most often this will come in the form of someone being aspec on one axis and allo (not aspec) on another. for example, a biromantic asexual may be romantically attracted to two or more genders, but sexually attracted to none. some people may even use SAM for allo identities– a bisexual lesbian may be sexually attracted to multiple genders, but only romantically attracted to women (note that this is not the only way that someone can be an mspec lesbian, just one way!). the SAM does not apply to everybody, not even all aspecs! there are non-SAM aros, for instance, who do not differentiate their aromanticism from their sexuality.]

aspec: a collection of queer spectrums centered around the lack of a certain attraction or identity. the most common spectrums under the aspec umbrella are asexual, aromantic, agender, and aplatonic, though there are many other ways to be aspec.

asexual: experiencing little to no sexual attraction.

[aces can still have sex– whether its because they experience some amount of sexual attraction or they just want to participate in sex because they find the act appealing in some other way. that being said, there are still plenty of aces who have not and will never have sex. it is a spectrum.]

aromantic: experiencing little to no romantic attraction.

[aros can still have romantic partners– whether its because they experience some amount of romantic attraction or they just find relationships appealing in some other way. that being said, there are still plenty of aros who have not and will never be in a romantic relationship. it is a spectrum.]

agender: having no gender or little relation to any gender.

aplatonic: experiencing little to no platonic attraction.

[similarly to aros and aces, apls can still form friendships if they so desire– whether its because they experience some amount of platonic attraction or they find friendships appealing in some other way.]

aroallo: combination of aromantic and allosexual– allosexual being someone who fully experiences sexual attraction. an aroallo, then, is someone who is aromantic but not asexual. aroallos often do not have a standard relationship with sex due to its romantic connotations and the stigma against loveless sex. someone having sex with someone else they do not love does not inherently make them aroallo, much in the same way that having a nonsexual relationship with a partner doesn't inherently make either participant asexual.

aroace: someone who is both aromantic and asexual. because aro and ace are both spectrums, an aroace may still experience some amount of attraction on either or both of those spectrums, or they may experience attraction of some other kind (platonic, tertiary, etc.), and that attraction may be only for a certain gender or genders– these are known as oriented aroaces.

queerplatonic relationship: a type of relationship that is defined only by the people within it. i have a post dedicated to explaining this in larger detail.

partnering: an aspec (usually aromantic) person who has and/or desires to have a partnership or multiple partnerships– romantic, queerplatonic, or otherwise.

non-partnering: an aspec (usually aromantic) person who has no desire to form a partnership of any kind.

romance/sex/plato favorable: an aspec who desires or would not reject a romantic, sexual, or platonic relationship. they are also generally not particularly bothered by seeing these relationships in their day-to-day.

romance/sex/plato repulsed: an aspec who does not desire a romantic, sexual, or platonic relationship and generally does not like seeing those relationships in their day-to-day. [x] repulsed people are not necessarily judgemental towards people who desire or participate in those relationships, they just do not desire them for themselves. repulsion often takes the form of discomfort or annoyance. [x] repulsed people are not necessarily cruel sticks-in-the-mud– they are perfectly capable of being respectful, and they very often are. repulsion does not always stem from trauma, though it certainly can.

romance/sex/plato positive: not to be confused with favorability, [x] positivity is the belief that romance, sex, and platonic relationships are human rights that should be supported and uplifted. someone can be [x] repulsed and [x] positive at the same time, because favorability/repulsion revolves around the self, and positivity/negativity extends to others.

sex/romance/plato negative: not to be confused with repulsion, [x] negativity is an inherently judgemental and harmful ideology. most commonly in the form of sex negativity, these ideologies are centered around the opposition to or personal judgement of people who engage in romance, sex, or platonic relationships. sex negativity in particular is embedded in western white supremacist societies and it is important for aspecs not to play into that.

those are the basics, but i have more information below the cut!

★・・・・・・★

> how are aspecs queer?

aspecs are queer because "queer" does not only mean LGBT. queer theory is about far more than just LGBT people– though they are undeniably a large part of it– queerness is any subversion of the traditional cisheteronormative standard. this includes things that cishets may take part in/identify with, because you do not have to be LGBT to subvert those standards. cishets who are gender-nonconforming are queer, for example. a good rule of thumb is that if you have to explain what you whole deal is to cishets, you're queer. queer does mean strange, after all.

traditional cisheteronormative conceptions of attraction, gender, and relationships do not account for aspecs. it is expected that everyone will one day form a traditional partnership with one other person, and that relationship will include sex (even if only for procreation, under some dogmas). virginity past a certain age is seen as a point of shame and something indicative of a larger problem in someone– in men, a red flag even. people past 30 without a relationship are pitied. our economic structure is build for couples and families– it's near impossible for someone to live comfortably alone. romance, friendship, and love are placed on a pedestal, treated as the meaning of life, the best thing anyone could ever experience. "love is the point of everything," as many posts on this site like to claim. people who reject these ideas are undeniably queer.

> i can get behind aros and aces, but the whole "aplatonic" thing feels like a stretch to me. how is not having friends queer? "platonic attraction" isn't even real.

aplatonicism is more than just "not having friends," and many apls have friends anyway, much in the same way that aros can date and aces can have sex. someone who does not have friends is not inherently aplatonic, they only are if they identify that little-to-no platonic attraction in themselves and choose to label themselves that way (just like how virgins aren't inherently asexual). still, apls who don't have friends exist, and they are all queer. what is a greater subversion of traditional cisheteronormative relationship structures than an outright rejection of what's seen as the most basic, fundamental relationship our culture has to offer?

you may not feel that platonic attraction is a distinct phenomenon in your own experience, and that's fine! ultimately, a lot of aspec terms exist for the utility and comfort of aspecs themselves. the SAM isn't for everyone, and platonic attraction isn't for everyone either. you do not have the authority to tell people what their own experiences are, nor should you care.

> i think it's sad that you're limiting yourself with these labels. you'll find someone one day!

for the broad majority of aspecs, our identities are not self-disciplinary, nor are they necessarily permanent. all queer people are capable of misunderstanding their identity or having a fluid identity– it is not a problem unique to being aspec. that being said, a lot of us may always be aspec and completely happy with it. being aspec is not a tragedy. the only thing i don't like about being aromantic is the judgement i receive from other people about it. non-partnering aspecs are not "missing out" on anything, because we don't even want the things we're rejecting in the first place. many of us are romance/sex/plato repulsed and are far more happy engaging with the world and with other people in different ways, because there is so, so much more to life than relationships, and it's wrong to presume that relationships are universally fit for everybody. telling an aspec that they'll find "the right person" one day is no different from telling a lesbian she'll find "the right man" one day. there is no "right person" for an aspec just as there's no "right man" for a lesbian. a lesbian is not "missing out" on a heterosexual relationship just because it's culturally perceived as superior and more fulfilling.

[disclaimer before anyone tries to do a "gotcha," i'm talking about a lesbian who is fully not attracted to men in any way. it's not like homophobes know the intricacies of gender identity and nonconformity as it pertains to homosexuality anyways.]

lastly, i wanna give a special shout out to the loveless aros and the relationship anarchists.

loveless aros are those who either feel little-to-no love as they understand it, or they are someone who supports the de-centering of love. they're worthy of a whole post of their own, but in summary: the loveless experience is all about finding joy in yourself and the countless things our world has to offer that are not dependent on the vague idea of love.

relationship anarchy is another concept worthy of its own post, but in essence it's an ideology aimed at abolishing the standard hierarchy of relationships (in the USA, depending on who you ask, its typically friendship < family < romantic partnership or friendship < romantic partnership < family) and allowing everyone the autonomy to define their relationships for themselves.

if i made any mistakes, let me know! and of course i'm willing to answer any questions anyone may have. :-3 thanks for reading my long ass post!

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introboy · 4 months

Text

So so excited to share my @mcytblrholidayexchange gift for @follow-the-compass-home! My concept was to combine a bunch of prompts together into one AU.

The premise is a modern-fantasy roommate situation where Tango, Bdubs, and Etho live together in an apartment. The only issue is that none of them are human, but they're all trying desperately to blend in, even though they don't really understand humanity as a concept.

More information can be found below the cut, and an introductory fic snippet can be found here (x)!

Downstairs Neighbors AU

Prompts used as inspiration:

Focus on Tango, Etho, and Bdubs

Include Boatem

Story told from Grian's perspective

Hybrid/inhuman AU

Angst with a happy ending

Emphasis on character dynamics

Here's a summary!!!

Tango, Etho, and Bdubs found each other by looking for roommates on Craigslist. They live in a 4-bedroom apartment together.

Tango is a spirit who wanted to interact with the world in a physical sense, so he built himself a body. He's basically just a ghost possessing an android (but unlike ghosts, he was never alive; he came into being as a fully-formed spirit). He doesn't adhere to normal bodily necessities like food, water, or sleep, which is convenient but also heavily concerning from an outsider's perspective.

Etho is a specific kind of shapeshifter called a mimic. He doesn't have a true form, but can copy the shape and mannerisms of most living creatures. The only constant across all of his appearances is a scarred left eye and white hair. Unfortunately, it takes practice to nail specific species characteristics, so he often forgets what he's supposed to look like and falls into uncanny valley. He wears a mask to cover his more noticable facial slipups.

Bdubs is some sort of plant creature (he doesn't really understand it himself). He has a perfect internal clock and sleeps, without fail, for 12 hours every night. He spends a lot of time in the unoccupied bedroom-- he uses it as a makeshift greenhouse, and it's filled with grow lights and humidifiers. He loves taking care of houseplants, but it's also a cover for him to spend time under the grow lights. Without enough light & water he gets lethargic.

Bdubs, Etho, and Tango, henceforth referred to as BET, all assume that the others are human. But since none of them know how to act human, they continuously pick up stranger and stranger habits from each other.

BET are close friends with Impulse & Skizzleman, who live together across the hall. Their upstairs neighbors are Grian, Pearl, Mumbo, and Scar, who are also besties with Imp & Skizz. BET and Boatem don't know each other well, but Grian especially thinks his neighbors are really odd.

Like BET, Grian is not human, and neither are the rest of his roommates. But they all know about each other, and Grian especially is really good at knowing how to act natural in public places. He's an avian shapeshifter, who can take the form of either a scarlet macaw or a human. Unlike Etho, both forms come equally naturally to Grian, and the shapeshifting process is a lot easier for him.

(Imp & Skizz are not human either-- they are a demon and an angel respectively. But, like Grian, they're really good at blending in when in public.)

One day, Grian gets injured on a flight and accidentally ends up on BET's balcony instead of his own. He's too disoriented to shift back into his human form or fly away, so Bdubs and Etho find him outside their door. Tango calls Impulse over in the hopes that he knows how to fix the random-injured-parrot crisis, but the only result is that Grian and Impulse start to truly take note of how strange their neighbors' living situation is. Incidents like the one pictured above arise (i.e. everyone finding out that there is not a singular scrap of food to be found in the entire apartment).

Ok that's all the rambling I'll do in this post, but I hope you enjoyed! Happy holidays!!

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 1 month

Text

Plan: Simon Ghost Riley x f!wintersoldier!reader

"This has to fabricated."

"It's not-"

"What the fuck is going on?"

"This can't be fucking real, Kate. There's no way."

The room had erupted with anger soon after the perpetrator was revealed to be you. After the initial shock came the denial, the anger that every single one of them felt because of the disturbing information that still displayed on the projector.

No one could believe it. No one wanted to.

"It's someone who looks like her." Price declared as he refused to look at the projector. "She's MIA."

"You really believe that, Cap?" Gaz scoffed and though he seemed like he was trying to keep his cool it was easy to see on his face he was just as distressed as everyone else.

Ghost hadn't said a word since his eyes landed on you. He was stuck frozen in his spot, his hands curled into fists that shook slightly as he burned holes into the screen staring at your image.

It was you. He knew the moment Laswell zoomed in on you. He may have avoided looking at any pictures of you he came across but he could never quite forget your eyes, not when he had spent so many times staring at them when you'd sit by his side or when you were across the room from him.

No matter how hard he tried to forget about you, to selfishly convince himself that you were dead so he didn't have to deal with any of the horrible emotions that still wounded him to this day, you were always in the back of his mind. He could truly never forget you.

But even with the shitty quality of the CCTV he could tell that something was different with you. You stood differently, more rigid than he had ever known you to be. From what he could see of your face, you looked hardened and angry, completely different from the last time he had saw you.

But there was no denying it. You were the one who stole the USB.

"It's her." He managed to say through a clenched jaw.

Ghost felt bile in his throat. He could hardly keep his thoughts straight with the storm of emotions that raged inside him. It was like his entire world was crashing down around him and he naively wished this was some horrible nightmare but it was real, all of it was.

"I cannae believe this." Soap mumbled. "She wouldn't...turn on us would she?"

The room went silent again.

You wouldn't. Ghost knew you wouldn't do anything to harm them or betray them, not with how close you were with them before you disappeared. You were loyal, almost to a fault and to even suggest that you would do something to betray the 141 made his blood boil and yet...you had stolen intel from them. Very valuable intel that could end lives.

You were working with some group, a bad group he knew that much, that was in direct opposition with the 141.

"It doesn't matter if she would or not." Laswell tried to keep a level voice but hidden in her eyes was pain and conflict as well. "She stole the intel and we need to get it back."

None of them missed the way she avoided speaking about what they needed to do to you. It seemed like none of them could fully believe that you betrayed them, that you would work against everything that you stood for.

Ghost denied it. You wouldn't do this willingly. You had to have been blackmailed or threatened. That was the only reason he could justify it.

A pit formed in his stomach and his throated tightened at the thought of you with this group, what that could really mean, but he ignored it. He turned to Price and gave him a firm stare, one that he hoped would get his point across.

"When we get the intel back, we're getting her back too." He said it like there was no debate because there wasn't.

Ghost was bringing you back whether Price or Laswell allowed it or not.

Luckily Price nodded and he spared one last glance at you before he looked at Laswell.

"We need to find out who they are." He said and she gave him a look.

She hesitated before she nodded. There was uncertainty in her eyes but she closed her laptop and looked to them all.

"Get into contact with Nik. I'll ask my contacts if they know anything."

When she left the room fell silent. There was nothing any of them could say to each other that would make the situation better, nothing that would help them believe that this wasn;t real.

You were alive. You had reappeared.

And you were against them.

the tag list is closed!

A/n: i hope this makes sense I struggled a little bit. we'll get into the meat of it later on

Tags: @bucky-lents @theweirdgeninistuff @igotchuuknj @rafaelacallinybbay @yyiikes @paintlavillered @tacticalanklebiter3000

#wintersoldier!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #mw2 ghost #ghost mw2

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x-uno · 8 months

Note

Hey! If it’s okay, can I request olpa x reader where it’s sort of a part two for your last zoro post where zoro and reader gets closers and it’s obvious they both have feelings for each other but they themselves don’t know about the other and it’s until after zoro wakes up from his coma, reader is crying and rambling on about how much he’s scared them and accidentally confesses to him, and he’s just stunned but he then quickly grabs reader by the back of the neck and kisses them breathlessly?

Sword and Heartstrings PT.2

Pairing : OPLA!zoro x fem!reader

notes : Certainly! I had fun writing this one! ~ I hope it's up to your expectations, anon! :DDD

<< 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

After the grueling battle with Mihawk, Zoro found himself in a coma, his injuries severe and his life hanging in the balance. The crew was distraught, but none more so than you who had been training with him, heart aching with worry.

Days turned into a painful wait, and every moment by Zoro's bedside felt like an eternity. Your tears fell freely as you whispered words of encouragement and love, unable to bear the thought of losing the man you had come to care for so deeply.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the room was bathed in soft candlelight, You poured your heart out to him. "You mean everything to me," you confessed, voice choking with emotion. "I can't lose you, Zoro. Please, wake up and hear me."

As if in response to your plea, Zoro's eyelids began to flutter, and he slowly regained consciousness. His eyes now focused on your tearful face, and he was overcome with a profound sense of relief and gratitude.

Before he could fully grasp the situation, before he could form words, he acted on instinct. With a fierce determination born from the depths of his heart, Zoro reached out, his hands grabbing the back of your neck, before pressing his lips with yours.

It was a kiss filled with all the unspoken feelings that had grown between them, a kiss that spoke of their shared experiences, their undeniable connection, and the depth of their love. In that moment, as their lips met, everything became clear—they were no longer clueless about the emotions that had silently bound them together.

You gazed into each other's eyes, the unspoken emotions finally finding a voice.

Zoro was the first to break the silence, his voice husky with raw emotion. "I... I didn't know," he admitted, his brows furrowing in a mix of confusion and realization.

Your tears of worry had turned to tears of joy. "I didn't either," You confessed. "But when I thought I might lose you, I couldn't hold back anymore."

Zoro's thumb brushed away a lingering tear your cheek. "You're an idiot," he muttered with a hint of a smile, his thumb tracing your lips.

You chuckled softly. "You too."

Laughter filled the room, a shared moment of relief and happiness. You couldn't help but lean in for another kiss, it was no longer a kiss born of confusion or desperation. It was a kiss of love, a kiss that sealed your newfound understanding and bound your hearts together.

In the warmth of each other's embrace, you knew that you had found something precious, something worth protecting. And as you both held onto each other, the cluelessness of your past had given way to a love that was now undeniably clear.

The moment was short-lived though, when a loud, indignant voice rang out that you were both jolted back to reality.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH Y/N, MOSSHEAD?!"

The voice came from none other than Sanji, who had arrived to fetch you for dinner, completely unaware of the recent developments. He stood at the doorway, his eyes wide with shock, and his cigarette dangled from his lips.

Zoro and you quickly pulled away from each other, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Zoro's brows furrowed as he glared at Sanji. "Mind your own business, Cook."

Sanji, however, was having none of it. He pointed an accusatory finger at Zoro. "I knew it! You've been hiding something from us, you bastard! And with Y/N of all people!"

You couldn't help but chuckle at the dramatic scene unfolding before them. "Sanji, it's not what you think," you tried to explain.

But Sanji was already in full-blown outrage mode. "Don't you dare corrupt our innocent crew member! I won't allow it!"

The commotion drew the attention of the rest of the crew, who came rushing into the room, equally bewildered by the scene. Nami raised an eyebrow. "What's going on here?"

Sanji dramatically pointed at Zoro and you. "Zoro's trying to seduce Y/N!"

Zoro facepalmed at Sanji's absurd accusation, while you couldn't stop laughing. It was clear that Sanji had jumped to conclusions, and the crew's confusion quickly turned into laughter.

Amid the chaos and laughter, Zoro and you exchanged a knowing glance. You might have been clueless about your feelings in the past, but one thing was certain now — you had found each other, and nothing could change that.

And as Sanji continued his over-the-top protest, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected comedic twist that had brought your feelings to light.

taglist: reply to be added !

#one piece x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #opla zoro #opla zoro x reader #one piece live action #roronoa zoro #Sword and Heartstrings

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mapiforpresident · 2 months

Note

24 with lessi russo please <3

Flirting 101

Alessia Russo x reader

warnings: none

summary: Alessia is terrible at flirting so she resorts to google.

I changed the prompt a little bit, but I hope you like it.

~~~

Alessia had had a crush on you for months, but it especially got bad after she joined Arsenal. You had been playing for Arsenal for five years now, and the club was your home. You had a very flirty personality, and you were really close with Leah and Katie, always trying to see who had the most charm. Although you were a very flirty person, you also didn't believe in one-night stands and only dated people that you saw a real future with, something Alessia admired.

Alessia had been trying to hint to you that she was interested for weeks now, but Alessia's flirting skills were non-existent and awkward. You always knew exactly what to say to make her weak in the knees and speechless, and she usually wasn't able to form a coherent sentence past an awkward hello and wave. She was getting very frustrated with herself and didn't know what to do. She absolutely did not want to ask for help on how to flirt with you or admit she had a crush on you if she didn't know if you felt the same way.

She had no idea that you, in fact, very much did feel the same way but were waiting for her to work up the courage to ask you out. You thought it was incredibly adorable whenever she was an awkward, blushing, clumsy mess around you. You would watch her work up the courage to come over and approach you, but as soon as she was near you, her mind would go blank, and she would blurt out "hi" before usually turning and walking away before you even had the chance to respond.

This was why she decided to resort to good and trusty Google. She lay in bed one night searching for hours for different ways to flirt, even practicing with the stuffed bear you had given her for Secret Santa a month prior. She decided she would try out one of the ways to flirt tomorrow and then a different one the next day and so on.

~~~

The next day at training, Alessia decided to approach you during a hydration break and try out her first method: compliments.

"I really like your boots," Alessia said awkwardly, grinning at you. She had decided last night that this was a good compliment to start with, not too personal but still nice. You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at her compliment.

"Thanks, I like yours too." You pointed to her boots as you said this. Alessia looked to see why you were pointing at her boots to realize that you both were, in fact, wearing the exact same boots, which wasn't that odd considering you were both Adidas athletes. Alessia blushed as soon as she realized this, not thinking about this scenario when she had planned out the conversation in her head. You smiled at her as she was saved by the whistle being blown, calling for the next drill to start.

~~~

Alessia continued with different flirting attempts for the next two weeks, each of them not going the way she hoped, but she didn't fully quit yet because every time she approached you, you smiled brightly at her. She would rather embarrass herself to make you smile than to not have that smile directed at her.

After two weeks, though, you decided to approach Alessia after practice and finally ask her out because her attempts at flirting were getting painful for both parties at this point, and you wanted her to be yours already, knowing Alessia might never actually ask you out by herself.

You entered the locker room and saw the blonde intensely reading something on her phone. You slowly walked over to her, but she didn't sense your presence, so you sat down in the cubby next to hers and glanced over at her, thinking she must have been reading a text. What you didn't expect her to be looking at was an article titled "Flirting 101: Do's and Don'ts When Flirting with Someone."

"Are you googling how to flirt?" you asked with a small laugh. Alessia practically jumped ten feet in the air, startled at being caught. She didn't know what to do. She knew she couldn't deny it because you very clearly saw what she was reading. She was staring at the ground blushing and having an internal debate when you said, "you know, asking the person out on a date might be a good start."

This time she looked up at you.

"What?"

"Ask me out on a date."

"What if you say no."

"I don't think I could say no to you."

"Y/n, will you go on a date with me sometime?"

"I would love that, Alessia. Is this why you have been randomly complimenting me and told me that cheesy pickup line?"

"Maybe," Alessia said as she looked down shyly. She couldn't believe that you actually said yes to her.

"I think that that's adorable. I can't wait for our first date. I have to get going because Katie is my ride and she will not hesitate to leave me behind, but text me the details of the date and I will be there." You told her as she was still looking down, not believing this was actually happening.

"See you tomorrow." You said as you lifted her chin up and left a lingering kiss on her cheek before you stood up to grab your stuff and leave.

"See you tomorrow, y/n," she called after you a second later after she recovered from the unexpected kiss.

"God, that was about the most awkward thing I have ever witnessed, Lessi," Leah said as she appeared from where she had been in her cubby.

"Oh my god, were you in here the whole time?"

"Unfortunately," Leah replied but with a smirk, happy for her friends.

#alessia russo x reader #woso #woso x reader #arsenal women #arsenal #arsenal x reader #alessia russo imagine #awfc x reader #leah williamson #katie mccabe

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hoseoksluna · 17 days

Text

BLUR | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: smut

word count: 17k

summary: one encounter with both of the males heals you enough that you don't become anything but joy.

pinterest board: blur

warnings: dom/sub dynamics, marking, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, cuckold kink, toying with the idea of polyamory, daddy kink, punishment, nipple play, oc gets triggered, face riding, ass play, male masturbation, multiple orgasms, use of butt plug, raw sex, cum eating, clit rubbing

note: i want to thank oc. i've always wanted to pinch jungkook's nose and i got to do that through her. LMFAOFSJLDKFS ANYWAYS—this is the LAST part of the steam series, whoop whoop. finally. this took me so fucking long to write and idk if it even makes sense, which is why i need you guys to let me know everything that you're thinking, feeling, hating, loving. I NEED IT. so pls, send me asks. spam me. thank you. ENJOY READINGGGGG. ₊˚⊹♡

A thin layer of sweat coats your hairline. And inside your skull, momentarily, there aren’t any thoughts—none, whatsoever. They have been swept aside as the feverish evening wind carries your boyfriend’s words through the aroused energy pulsating around your naked form. Around Jungkook’s, too.

Yoongi is still the only one fully dressed. And, adamantly, he’s taken the role of a watcher, shifting the dynamic in such a frantic way that the sole impulse that you find opening within you like buds of tree flowers is to obey. To submit to the role, externalize one that will fit it. To play along like he did, when he caught onto your scheme.

Even though you don’t know how to particularly go about it.

And when Yoongi walks over to the armchair in his living room, plops down on it, angles his head slightly to look at you and waves a hand towards the couch across from him, inviting you to sit, your nescience claws at you. Brutally.

You don’t know if there are any shadows thickening in his headspace because you deem there must be a reason behind his sudden decision to turn things around. He’s been okay with every practice done so far in the playtime—he validated all of them, was in charge the whole time until he gave that control over to Jungkook. You can’t help but worry if there perhaps isn’t a catch.

And the lower your disquiet sinks inside your gut, the higher your distrust of yourself springs, lodging in your throat. You’re not sure anymore if you’re right about anything. What if there is something you’ve done that you completely overlooked in the middle of your pleasure? In the middle of Jungkook’s pleasure?

Once you exchange a heavily-charged look with the puppy, you hope to find a hint in the tenderness of his eyes that would help you figure it out. Though, the more you deepen the scrutiny, the more you’re met with absolute blankness.

He’s as clueless as you.

Bewildered, mostly, that Yoongi let him have the upper hand.

Your finger itches to hook around his, but you only angle your head in the direction of the living room, dubious to listen to your body, intentionally wary. You make the first move and you don’t sit down on the couch like Yoongi motioned you. No, you sink your knees into the space beside his on the armchair, the leather creaking beneath you. Wrap your arms around his shoulders. Study the depth of his gaze as he focuses it on your face, looking for the hint, for anything that would lead you to it. Bury your fingers into his night-tinged hair the way he likes it, the way you like to do it, too. Pull it a little to make known to him that you’re bubbling with uncertainty.

Yoongi merely watches you, borrowing his friend’s stoicism.

You click your tongue, disliking it. “Yoongi,” you drawl out, cupping the sides of his neck, willing his attention to be more of an intimate sort. Just you and him. You need to talk to him about this. Need a peace of mind in order for you to enjoy this. In order to please him in the process as well.

He turns his head behind him, though. To check the whereabouts of his friend. And when you follow the same direction, you discover that his dining space is empty.

You don’t detect any panic in you. Perhaps it’s due to the fact Jungkook never abandoned you before. Or perhaps you’ve healed to the point that it doesn’t bother you anymore, no matter who does it. And what’s more, you think he probably went to pee.

With two fingers on his jaw, you turn his attention back to you. Leave them there. His lips curl up as he tries to purse them, his stoicism fragmenting. Eyes gentle, moonbeams swimming. The sight is so endearing to you that your own mouth mirrors his, butterflies awoken, fluttering their wings in your tummy. This is the man you love. This is the man that’s yours. Yours, only. And you’re alone, intimately, cordially. Just like before.

“Is something the matter, honey?” He tips his chin, irises dilated and looking up at you. Latches his hands onto the fleshiness of your thighs, just below your hip bones.

With your inhale of breath, you muster as much courage as you can. “Have I done something wrong?”

Perplexity writes itself on his softened face. Could it be—

“No, why do you think that, hm?” He narrows his eyes at you playfully, tapping his fingers on the side of your hips. You exhale a breath that loosens your worry a little bit and your mouth rounds. He leans in to peck it. “You’ve been perfect.”

Have you? You’re not so sure—on the contrary, what you’re sure of is the fact you can better yourself. You have to, in order to make your worries dissipate all the way.

And you can fulfill that if you know what role to play.

“Tell me what to do.”

One corner of his mouth tugs ever so slightly to the side and one brow quirks in confusion. “You’re about to get eaten up. Enjoy it—that’s what you are to do.”

You sigh, realizing you should’ve worded it better. That’s precisely what you want to do—enjoy it, but you can’t risk getting lost again. Can’t risk getting submerged. You need him to tell you who you are to be in this new dynamic he established and you don’t want to hear that you should be yourself. If you relax your boundaries, you’ll step into a dangerous territory—and you’ve been there before.

So has he.

“Yoongi, no, I meant—”

He squeezes your muscles. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here, you hear me?” he murmurs, one hand coming up to your hair and curling it behind your ear. And it’s these words that unwittingly, little by little, drive you to drop your own hand, your guard and your worries. The fact that he doesn’t even want to hear your better wording, too, because he understood you the first time. It guides you to think it’s not worth speaking out, not when he evidently knows better.

And it feels nice. To have someone intelligent enough that they know. To have someone care enough that they don’t let you immerse yourself in doubts because they know the type of shit your thoughts consist of sometimes. He remembers everything you unraveled during the therapy sessions. And that feels nice. More than nice.

Your mouth rounds again and you repeat it after him. To acknowledge yourself with it. To swallow it so it streams down your body, where its meaning can unfurl. “You’re here.” Your voice is subdued, unsure, the words foreign on your tongue. You knit your brows while you taste them, unable to identify the flavor. That is until you realize it could offend him. You relax your features right away.

But Yoongi merely watches you with a sympathetic look, one that makes you feel terrible for reacting the way you did.

Not for long, though.

“I know I’ve made a mistake in the past, but that’s not happening again. I’m not leaving you on your own this time,” he says and you realize that is precisely what you needed to hear, what your body needed to consume first in order to recognize the flavor of his reassurance. You caress his face in deep emotion and you try again.

“You’re here.” It’s a mere silken sound for only the both of you to hear, but it matters—it’s enough, it’s perfect. In the distance, you hear a shuffling of feet in the kitchen, the song of the wind gaining momentum, inclining to listen to the expression of love between you—to be a witness of the right thing being done at last. And you can taste the sweetest wine of the ripest of grapes, spiced with the most vibrant of roses. You can taste home; his stability you can lean on.

Yoongi smiles in your grasp, noting the way the words sounded different—more secure. The moonbeams liquify in his waterline. “That’s right. And because I’m here, I’m not letting history repeat itself.” He pinches your cheek, knocking your head back and forth with the well-meaning, ferocious movement. Erases completely the lingering presence of the guard and fears you’ve dropped. You laugh, softly, relieved—so fucking relieved. Joy fills your empty body, energizing you, roses rising in you. Your roses, the ones you know, fraternizing with the unknown flowers that Jungkook planted in you. And you discern that it’s you who’s in your comfort zone, in your safety zone. The males have stepped inside theirs and now you have. You inhale fresh air in your new lungs, exhale your relief. “Say it. So I know you understand.”

“You’re here and you’re not letting history repeat itself.” Beautiful, beautiful words—beautiful consolation and kindness. A pillar of the most exceptional magnificence. Mentally, you rest against it, rest your enfeebled, exhausted body of all your needless worries and false thoughts.

You didn’t do anything wrong. Didn’t make a mistake. Though, if it weren’t for the weak moment, you wouldn’t be here. Wouldn’t have gotten the comfort you didn’t know you needed.

So peculiar, the newness. It dawns on you that it should’ve been like this in the beginning. Healthy conversations, reassurance. Why hadn’t you done this? Why did you jump headlong, bringing along such darkness of—

You close your eyes fleetingly to shut down those thoughts. Forgetting is taking place. Newness is here. Old is gone. Like the verity that he’s here, you repeat it to yourself again and again in your heart. You can’t change what’s happened. You can only move on with the eternal perception that you’ve changed, that you’ve learned. And that’s enough.

You brush your thumb upon the column of his neck. Back and forth, like he did with your cheek. Thankful for him. “You’re here and you’re not letting history repeat itself.”

Yoongi isn’t puzzled you whispered it to yourself again. In fact, he embraces it. Kisses you tenderly, deeply to seal those words. They spread roots in you. Rake through the earth so the roses, the flowers can grow healthily, happily, luminously. You feel them lean into the satin touch of the butterflies that elongate their dusty wings before they curl the membranes around their radiant petals, forming a protection circle. A dose of healing you didn’t expect to receive. Not from him, not now—not now when you’re about to be eaten out by his friend.

It’s so surreal to you. To feel protected like that. To feel safe. Safe to now roam freely in your undiscovered sexuality because you have someone to look out for you, to possibly guide you back if you lose your way. The stability that envelopes you—you can’t bear it; it’s too good to be true. And when you take a deep breath and those roses tremble with excitement in you, in the circle, there’s nothing left for you to do but to accept it because it’s so strong, because it’s unyielding. You couldn’t move it even if you tried. It won’t let you—it’s here to stay. Here to be alongside your boyfriend, protecting you as you venture out on your perverted adventure.

You’ve worked hard to get to this point. And now you get to reap what you’ve sown.

Yoongi grins after the long kiss, proudness emanating out of him and you feel like weeping. You’ve done the right thing, for the very first time. “That’s my good girl.”

The praise does something to you. Stirs you violently, magnifies the intensity of the flapping of the butterfly wings in you. Sends back feeling to the ache between your legs, propped against the linen of Yoongi’s pants. Throbbing, slapping, memories of what has been done to your pussy—you’re a meadow of wildflowers and you’re ready to be pleasured again, however you register a matter that pulls you away from this notion for a moment.

There’s no catch.

Because Yoongi created a new realm for both you and Jungkook with his sense of safety and comfort, there’s nothing for you to fret about. There’s no role for you to play. And, furthermore, who you are meant to be upon this ground is who you’ve been throughout the whole trajectory of your relationship.

A good girl.

Only this time it’s entirely different.

You didn’t want to be yourself because, if anything were to backfire, you thought you’d have the responsibility for it. In addition to that, you thought the normalcy of your sexual life was a no-gone zone for Jungkook, which is why you’ve been racking your brain, trying to come up with ways you could differ it, so Yoongi wouldn’t get jealous.

But things changed so drastically that because Yoongi took control, now you don’t have to be in charge of that. You’re not the artist, you’re not choosing colors for the palette. Yoongi is.

There’s still one more thing that doesn’t add up. And you voice it out. “If you’re not letting history repeat itself, though, why are you letting Jungkook be in control?”

Yoongi grabs your hands and holds them. “I’m letting him be in control of how he does what I tell him to do. I’m in control of the whole situation, honey.”

You suck in a breath. To protect himself, he won’t make the same mistake again; that’s just the person Yoongi is. He’s allowed Jungkook to have the freedom of a bird in the pleasure he wants you to receive from him, but he won’t hesitate to ensnare him if he runs up against something he doesn’t like.

You find that immensely, immensely attractive.

Hot.

The pillar of stability, the warmth of reassurance, the absolute fucking boss—that’s your man. You lid your eyes, swearing, leaning forward to suck onto his lip, kissing him with utter desperation and he lets you. Lets you kiss him. Lets you show him how much you liked that. Growls when your hand creeps to his neglected, clothed length and squeezes it. Hums when you feel him up until you find his tight balls. Responds to your touch—bucks his hips so you focus on them more and you go mad. Interminably, mad.

And when you swirl your tongue around his, you feel a cold, wet hand on your back.

The magnet to your madness. The healer stands by the side of the armchair with a dew-sprinkled face and there’s a feigned, playful jealousy that you feel when you regard him, for the only dew you want on his face is one that’s your own. He washed up in the bathroom—you reckon he did it to cool his desperation, to cool the sweat of arousal that lines his skin, much like yours. You note that it didn’t work, at least not fully, because when you roam your gaze down, you discover he’s still painfully hard. Much like your boyfriend.

You wrap your hand around him and the forbidden, exhilarating feeling of having two cocks in your grasp is too brief for your liking because Jungkook pulls your hand away again. Holds it and leads you towards the couch. You frown at him with a puckish smile, but while he tugs you away, you steal a kiss from Yoongi. A hard, quick kiss that makes him twitch—something that you get to feel before Jungkook grabs you by your pits and throws you on the couch.

You let out a string of giggles, loving the feeling of being manhandled; loving the feeling of Jungkook being in desperate need to eat you out. Your face heats up, your body following suit, the ache between your legs worsening. Yoongi smirks, validating your enjoyment and he adjusts in his seat, which you think is dismal. You don’t want him to be neglected. You want him to be pleasured, too.

The words tumble out of you before you can think them over. “Can you touch yourself for me, baby?”

Yoongi licks his lips. Pauses before he responds. Tortures you like he tortured Jungkook. You spread your legs to provoke him, giving him a show of the shine on your folds. It’s enough for him to palm himself briefly, as if he lost control for a split second. He takes his hand away and places it back on the armrest. “I’ll consider it.”

The boss at play. You swear, closing your legs to squeeze them, to give yourself some sort of relief from the ache you feel. Butterflies go rampant in your tummy, but despite the buzzing tension, you feel content, safe and utterly elated. Happy.

You expect Jungkook to say something, though he merely props a knee on the leather of the couch and spreads your legs how he wants them. He doesn’t lift them, only parts them as far as they can go. You go to grab his length again because you feel a certain magnetic pulling to it, but he catches your hand in time.

“Behave.” He presses your hand firmly to emphasize his scolding before he lets go. Such a stark contrast to the playtime of before. You remember how he wanted you to do the complete opposite. To misbehave. Your body heats up even more, the fire compulsing your hips to sway, asking for attention.

Another set of words tumble out of you unwittingly and you place your hands under your thighs. “I’m sorry.”

The surprise that floods Jungkook’s features is overwhelming to you and in response, you grin, coyly. He strokes the adorable fat of your cheek. “Good girl. That’s what I like to hear.”

You purse your lips and before the fire of that praise can lick your whole body, Yoongi speaks up, too. “Good job, honey. You learned your lesson so well.”

Shock comes first, then fire—vibrant blue fire that scorches you whole. You blush, deeply, squeezing the leather of the couch—the praise and the validation from both males so profuse, so profound that you can’t take it. You hide your widening grin beneath your palms. “Stop,” you drawl, the sound muffled and soft, even though you don’t want them to do anything of the sort.

Jungkook coos, pulls your wrist away, uncovering your rosy, glowy face. Then, he pets your head, fingers sinking into your hair. He forces you to look at him, to see the smile of endearment that bathes his face in light, but he does it so gently that you purr, his hold so stimulating, so titillating—his countenance so lovely, so darkly angelic. Eyes crinkled but still round, still so tender. “Who taught you to have such good manners, huh?”

You swipe your tongue along the top arc of your lip, his gaze flicks to it and and the answer thrums in your belly warmly like a sip of a good wine. It doesn’t unnerve you, doesn’t make you afraid. In fact, it’s so tranquil and so right that you relish every syllable. “Both of you did.”

The rays from the light side penetrate the dark one and healing takes place. Healing that you never thought you’d ever be a witness to. You know that the act of forgetting was supposed to fully sink in all three of you, but your words diverged its path. You swallow warmth and you swallow relief, watch as Yoongi gets up from his seat and mirrors Jungkook’s position, one knee on the leather, hand under your jaw. A soft set of tears rush in at the attention and the realization of what’s actually happening, and when the healer sees them, he lets go of your hair and brushes his thumb across your brow, hand spread across the side of your face. You lean into his palm, so terribly emotional, and when Yoongi plants a delicate kiss on your cheek, your chin begins to quiver. He felt it, too. Felt the gravity of those words that now dulcify his intention to make things right this time. And he kisses you again, prolongs the peck, as if to thank you for your goodness.

When Yoongi lifts his head and bores his mellow gaze into you, it is the same relief that you’ve swallowed that you see saturating his face in effulgence. At last, it has come for him, has come to live in him. At last, it’s here.

You’ve done it, all three of you. Healed from the pain.

Jungkook knits his brows at the sight of the first tear plopping down onto your skin as if it physically pained him to see you cry. And before you can register the movement, he swipes the liquid emotion away and kisses the residue of it, as if it were fate itself that wrote it was meant to pour down on the right side of your face—for Jungkook to collect, for it to seep into his fingerprint.

So much love. The air is thick with it. Your lungs tremble as you take a deep breath. The wind billows in and out, but doesn’t carry it off—intertwines its translucent body with it instead, bringing in a fresh gust of briskness into the atmosphere. No more tears stream down your cheeks; you smile at both of the males—the healer and the boss.

Yoongi remains standing beside you. Takes your hand in his. Says a myriad of silent words of great importance that you cannot decipher as he exchanges a look with Jungkook, who merely nods at them in plain understanding. You don’t have to wonder long what was behind it. Jungkook turns your jawline to him and kisses you softly. Doesn’t let go. Prolongs the kiss until he whimpers onto your mouth, softened, too, by the healing that occurred. No tongue, just the warmed silver of his lip ring, the smooth tenderness of his mouth and the most affectionate emotion exuded into the kiss.

The pop of the withdrawal is all you hear. You keep your eyes closed. Feel him take that kiss onto your neck, your collarbone, to your sternum. Feel the tightening of your boyfriend’s grip around your hand as Jungkook drags his lips down your tummy, where the healing vibrates and he says hello to it with his tongue, makes it feel safe. Feel the tightening compulsion to watch him as he does it and you obey your body.

Jungkook is kneeling before you. Brows furrowed, expression so terribly serious as he understands how significant this part of you is. Sinks his whimpers into your skin while he sucks it and it’s only when you run your fingers through his silky hair that he looks up at you. And the sight of his wet eyes breaks you.

He’s as emotional as you.

Your throat constricts. If it weren’t for him, none of this lively beauty would take place—and if it weren’t for Yoongi, too. It is their work of art and you’re the one doused in colors of most resplendence. And you tell them, your body urges you to, while you squeeze Yoongi’s hand and caress Jungkook’s hair. “I’m so grateful for you both.”

The healer whimpers again, letting go of your skin, leaving behind a purple memory of this heartfelt loveliness. His tears don’t escape the confinement of his waterline—he blinks them away. Blinks them even more rapidly when Yoongi places a hand on Jungkook’s bare shoulder and he gapes at him in disbelief—in disbelief that his closest friend is touching him with such gentleness after everything. You don’t allow yourself to think of the past, of the last violent touch that you saw, but you can’t help the emotion rushing in your eyes. You let go of Yoongi’s hand to clasp the one on Jungkook’s shoulder, deepening the love.

And you press a loud, exaggerated kiss on Jungkook’s forehead to make him laugh—like he did that one time by talking about his worm. To distract him, if there are perhaps any overbearing thoughts in his mind.

Now his disbelief is directed towards you. Mouth parted, wrinkles between his brows. You burst into laughter and it triggers his. Yoongi’s, too. It’s your breasts that bounce now and none of the pairs of eyes flick to it, fixed still on the glamorous gracefulness that blossoms out from your face. Jungkook shakes his head, cheeks awash with redness, irises glinting with a spark you’ve never seen before, and you consider your job done. He tells you to lay back down, but his grin lingers.

Yoongi takes your hand back in his and you perceive that he needs it, that he needs to hold you. You smile at him, fluttering your lashes, blowing him an air kiss, and he nudges his nose against yours to remind you to enjoy this. You begin to prepare yourself, taking a deep breath—

It hitches in your throat harshly. Jungkook kitten licks your clit with deep pressure, just once, lifting his head to watch your reaction. The reverberation of the pleasure causes you to moan and he smirks at you—what’s worse, he winks at you, so terribly smug that he coaxed such sound like that by one lick and it makes you tremble, needing more. He can see it, but he tortures you, keeping his hands on your thighs.

And when Yoongi reaches behind himself and sinks your headband with yellow kitty ears into Jungkook’s hair, you’re done for. You must’ve left it there when you were doing your makeup. Jungkook doesn’t acknowledge it, however. Too drunk by his first proper taste of you to do so, glossy eyes transfixed by that flesh of yours.

It suits him so well that you coo at him, grasping his neck to pull him back to your cunt, but he doesn’t let you. Your heart begins to thump with hard beats and you grow desperate, whining, looking at Yoongi to make him do something.

He merely smiles at you. “Be patient.”

At his words, Jungkook lifts your legs and begins to focus on the back of your thigh, marking it, groaning against your skin, inhaling your mango scent. He roams his tongue all over and you whine louder, finding it so unfair that you have to wait for it, that he reinforces your neediness by those hard kisses and sucks, by his sounds, breaths and control. You grind your hips, the ache between your legs made unbearable by your helplessness and Yoongi stops you by placing his hand on your lower belly.

“Did I not tell you to be patient? Be good,” Yoongi scolds, lowly, rubbing the place in slow circles. Your whine is bratty, but you nod your head, pouting, halting all your movements, becoming still like the wind that has come to stay and observe the unfolding of your daydream.

At your submission, Yoongi creeps a finger to your wet clit, testing you. Doesn’t do anything beyond that and once he sees you’re well-behaved, he plunges the same finger into your mouth, giving you a taste of Jungkook’s saliva. You mewl, sucking it. The healer watches the act in deep thought, your skin in his mouth, and you’re certain an idea flashes in his mind.

Jungkook straightens to his full height, proving you right and the feeling is utterly gratifying. Reaches behind him and grabs the tall glass filled with water that you never noticed he put on the coffee table. Yoongi withdraws his digit and inspects his friend’s doing with curiosity. Jungkook takes a small sip of it without taking his gaze off of you, tips it to your mouth right after and you realize he did it more so it wouldn’t overflow, as you take a well-needed sip of your own, rather than to refresh himself. That is until he does something that completely shocks you, ripping away your delightful proudness of being proven right.

It is something between a yelp and a moan when the coldness of the water drops onto the skin of your chest, scattering it with tiny, pellucid pearls that almost pool by your violent heart. The demo before the full game; your breathing gains as much speed as the throbbing in your clit. Jungkook inclines the glass again, holds it as a longer, thicker trail trickles down your body—from the middle of your breasts, across your tummy until it reaches your cunt. And the contact of the liquid with the hotness of your swollen seashell? You groan, rolling your body. So much that you slap your hands down on the leather, gripping it with all your might, needing something stable to hold onto, to release your pent-up desperation.

Amused, Jungkook sets the glass down and kneels back down. Licks a long, torturous stripe from your clit up to those pearls, following the path he mapped out while zeroing his stare into yours. You part your mouth, your madness closing around you again, puffing out short breaths and subdued, desperate moans and when Jungkook closes his lips over your neck and begins to suck, you turn your head towards Yoongi and roll your eyes back. Struggle to keep them open as you feel that muscle of his tracing patterns on the sensitive skin and Yoongi knows. He knows how good it is for you and he kisses you like he means it, mimicking what his friend is doing around your tongue.

Your sounds grow in volume. Your desperation, too, in intensity.

“Please.”

Jungkook emerges from your neck but wraps a hand around it, nonetheless. Is as close to you as your breath, his nose bumping into yours. He squeezes your column firmly before he curtly turns your jawline away from Yoongi. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat under his forearm, if he can feel how desperate she is for him, too—in a way you don’t understand. “Please what?”

He opens your mouth wider and spits.

Shock comes first like a thunderbolt, spreading across your veins, paralyzing your body. Then it blurs into a tumultuous arousal that seizes you whole, that makes you beg for more. No one has ever spat in your mouth, not even Yoongi. You’ve never liked it in porn, but experiencing it first-hand gives it another meaning. The dominance, the absolute film of lustfulness caking his face, the estimable seriousness that wafts off of him. He’s turned you into a boneless putty, his putty, and you want him to do it again.

“Spit in my mouth again, please—please.”

Jungkook grunts. Shadows surround your vision as you narrow your eyes in sheer pleasure at his sound, biting your lip to cage in your worsening desire for him—but he saves your lip, pulls it away from your teeth and opens your mouth wide. You ogle him as he sloshes his saliva in his mouth above you before he taps your tongue, signalizing you to stick it out for him. Once you listen, he spits hard onto the muscle that waited for it. You moan, satisfied, swallowing it right away and showing him.

He pokes his own tongue in his inner cheek, fire blazing in his as equally narrowed eyes, the act of spitting in your mouth making him beyond fucked out. You can sense it deep in your core and your obsession with it grows.

“You’re filthy, but so good. It’s making me lose my fucking mind,” he says, hazily, fingers squeezing your throat for a heartbeat. The momentary lack of oxygen gives you a perfect demonstration of his words and the moans you let out are so breathy, so choked out that he takes your madness and makes it his own—loosening his grip and kissing you nastily, licking into your mouth, both hands traveling south to your breasts and kneading them harshly, pressing your nipples between his fingers.

And when you utter the words rising vehemently in your throat, he takes the demonstration to otherworldly levels. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Jungkook cocks his head at you and drags his teeth painfully across his bottom lip, swearing. His eyes darken, at last. Thrill sizzles beneath your skin and you feel an upsurge of adrenaline, the aftertaste of the title so sweet, so delicious on your tongue. “As if you didn’t deserve it already, I’m gonna take you to heaven for that.”

You laugh softly, brushing your fingers through his hair, anticipation joining the adrenaline. “You like me calling you that?”

He hums his agreement and you don’t feel Yoongi, you don’t even feel his hand; your vision, surroundings, persona blurring so rapidly. “Daddy’s gonna make you feel so good. All you have to do is come for him as many times as you can. Thank him that way. Is that clear?”

You shiver at the use of third person. Never thought you’d find it as alluring as you do. Brush your thumb across his brow like he does it to you. He coos, kissing your hand, sinking his body lower. Touched by the gesture. “Yes, Daddy. That won’t be too difficult for me to do.”

Jungkook gives you a smile that envelops you in an aura, where it’s just you and him. You don’t have the brain cells, nor the will, the desire to stop it. “That’s a good girl. On her best behavior for us.”

It wakes you up and the feeling of Yoongi’s grip on your hand returns, the circle of the aura withering. Disappointment descends in your gut, one that is soon forgotten when Jungkook sucks your clit into his mouth.

The squeak you let out would be embarrassing if you weren’t so out of your mind, but the confidence it came out with, the seductiveness and beauty—Jungkook shows you how much he liked the sound by humming against your sensitivity, the appreciation smothering every fiber and nerve ending of your body, hoisting you up towards the canopy of clouds. He swirls his tongue around the flesh, sucking deeper before he opens his mouth wider and licks you all over, closing his eyes and moaning, reveling in the feeling of you, the scent of you and the warmth of you. He toys with your lips, chuckling in delight when he acknowledges himself with them, burying his mouth completely in them, kissing them, caressing them with the puffiness of his pillows.

He’s pussydrunk—and the sight of it intoxicates you just the same.

And then he pauses. Kisses your clit. The peck so ardently earnest that he sucks it in the process. Does it again and again until he tinges your femininity in the faintest, daintiest, most dreamiest tone of red, prettier than any flowers you’ve ever seen—so akin to the wash of color scattering along his cheekbones. Then, he rubs his face in you, vigorously, moaning against you so intensely that your sounds become one.

Raising his head, features drenched in your dew—just like you wanted it—his chain taps your cunt in long staccatos. The pleasure is so dizzying, along with his looks, that you feebly jump at every contact. It reminds you, vividly, of the spanks you like so much. “Pussy so fucking wet and pretty for me. I’m gonna destroy you.”

It’s only at this time that you hear Yoongi smug but quietly laugh. He draws close to your ear and his hardened breath steals your attention from his friend’s praise. “He makes me wanna taste you, too, and make you come repeatedly on my tongue. Fuck, honey. I want that so bad.”

You mewl, about to burst at the seams, unable to take the double relish given to you from both men. Yoongi latches his mouth onto your neck, causing your eyes to roll back, and it sparks up some kind of competition in Jungkook, for when he dives back in—you scream.

The flicks of his tongue are so brutal that your lungs heave. You take many breaths but you can’t catch them, the heat from Yoongi’s kisses and the rapidness of Jungkook’s movement numbing your body to the point that you’re rendered powerless.

Jungkook alternates between fast flicks and long swipes from your entrance to your bundle of nerves, parting your lips so he can have easy access. And being spread like that, attended to by two males that you have strong attachment to, the kitty ears bobbing up and down as Jungkook devours you—your orgasm chases you down, the knot in your lower belly pulled so taut that it takes a mere heartbeat for it to snap completely.

And when you come, Jungkook laps you up, grunting in insatiable need for more. Your body violently shudders, but he keeps going, widening his swirls of tongue around your clit before he rubs it with the tip of his nose and—

He begins to fuck you with his tongue.

You don’t feel anything. Not your heartbeat, not your struggling lungs—just the hard jabs of his tongue inside your hole, pushing you closer and closer to paradise. Not heaven, you’ve been there, but to something beyond. A paradise of the warmest color and sunlight, swaying trees and a pool of the most refreshing water.

And Yoongi’s noise of joy is the bird that flies past in that place, dipping to its reflection. “Daddy’s so good he’s giving it to you better than I ever did.”

It’s those words that make you come again.

He laughs, fondles your nipples, holds you steady as Jungkook prolongs your orgasm by strenuously sucking your clit and you sob hard, tingling all over, senses gone, everything gone. You feel so lightweight, so airy, dopamine and oxytocin making your head all fucked up. Happy, satisfied.

Jungkook withdraws, kissing your clit one last time, licking it slowly. “You came so hard for Daddy, well done,” he praises, mouth wet, face as colorful as the meadow of flowers in you, gleaming iridescently. “But I’m not done with you.”

You moan, wanting more, badly. Take him by the neck with both hands and draw him closer to you, the chain stimulating your breasts. You kiss him hungrily and the taste of your dew causes you to let out such obscene sound that Jungkook and Yoongi growl simultaneously. Dulciness, with a hint of piquancy that makes you even hornier—the slipperiness of his mouth making it worse. “I want to ride your face. Please, please, let me.”

Jungkook smiles at you, pecking your lips, faintly. Cocks his brow at Yoongi. “You’re gonna give the princess what she wants?”

Your eyes follow the sharp line of his jaw and you bite your lip. Don’t think twice about taking that skin into your mouth, licking it over, watching as Jungkook closes his eyes at the contact. Musk, the forest, wood—you carry your still lingering hunger and unravel it upon the spot beneath that strong jaw, devouring that scent of his, aware of how his breath lodges in his throat. You mimic what he did to your clit there, enjoying every second of it, enjoying his reaction as he hums and thumbs your clit, waiting for Yoongi’s approval.

And you quicken it by begging for it, squeaking little sounds, beckoned by that slow motion of his digit. “Please, Yoongi. I want it so bad.”

Badly enough that you force your head away and look at him. As much as you thought there would be puzzlement to his face, what you detect is far more sinister. His smirking mouth tells you that he is simply pleased with the way you’re begging, with the way he gets to torture you. And not just you, but Jungkook as well. Ego high—his control at full play. You don’t blame him, not at all. It must be delicious to him in the middle of all this healing.

“Ride him well, make me proud.”

The joy springs in you so fast, but you don’t have the time to take in it. Yoongi gets up from the couch and you apprehend that you were very, very wrong.

You haven’t healed to the point that it doesn’t bother you when Yoongi leaves.

Your panic is so enormous that you rise, your movement so rigid that Jungkook stumbles, his arm quick to wrap around your chest, pulling you back onto the leather beside him. And you don’t see the twist of his brows, the deep clefts of his dimples while he scowles. No, you watch your boyfriend’s back as he makes his way to the dining table, your heart expanding in your throat.

“Tell her at least where the fuck you’re going,” Jungkook grumbles, ever the healer who senses your emotions and the fact he stood up for you like this makes you mouth merely round, your otherwise triggered trauma unsettling the rest of your feelings.

Yoongi returns a moment later with the butt plug and lube in his hand and with a solemnly guilty face. Kisses the top of your head in apology, but it’s not enough. Not when you can’t hear your heartbeat. Not when you can’t swallow. Not when your mind is so numbed by the recurring panic that you cannot even hear your mind.

“Don’t do that to me,” you whisper, but the words are firm, piercingly sharp, important and gravely, so much that Jungkook, with sticky hands by his sides, stills next to you.

Yoongi cups your chin, a dominant gesture, but you glare at him—masculine strength being the last thing you need right now. You may have foolishly thought your healing was complete and as much as it knifes you to be proven wrong, it’s the fact you expected more from him that hurts the most, especially after he promised you he’d be here. But maybe it’s foolish altogether, to be in hidden demand of him to tell you of his whereabouts, notably when you never voiced it out for him, not once during the therapy sessions, not once during the course of this perverted adventure—the matter of the gravity of your abandonment issues.

You point your anger at yourself and fall to a dark, dark abyss.

And you pushed yourself there on your own because you were incapable of reminding yourself of Yoongi’s reassurance, mind too blurred, too fucked out to remember.

“I’m sorry, honey. I’m still here. I never left you.”

You nod because he’s right. “I know now. I didn’t remind myself. It’s my fault.” It’s as much of a surprise to your ears as it is to Yoongi’s. He widens his eyes at your honesty before tenderness swims past. “I’m really sensitive right now.”

Jungkook rubs circles on your back with his thumb and you welcome his touch, his warm energy.

Yoongi caresses your face. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. What we’re doing here is pretty overwhelming. But I’m here. I got you.” His words hold the same firmness that yours did and it’s difficult for you to grasp how they’re mending you, how they’re swooping that darkness in their arms and flinging it away from your reach. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Not one thing. Let me make it better for you, hm? You want me to make you feel better?”

Emptiness plummets down your body, in place of the darkness and the anger, and the moonbeams in his eyes engulf it, filling it with its pale light. All you can do is nod, too weak to express any other form of affirmation.

Yoongi kisses the place on your cheek beside your ear, slipping inside his words. “Good girl. The best. I’ll make you feel better. I’ll make you happy again, my love.” You sob at the pet name, at the tenderness, at the comforting feeling of Jungkook’s hand on your arm, pulling you back so you lean against his chest, participating in your healing. The round valley of his tattooed bicep nudges you in your cheek as he cages you in and you nuzzle your face into it, hooking both of your hands on his forearm. Musk, forest and wood suffusing your senses, along with a strong dose of safety. “That’s it, lean against him like that. Daddy will help you forget, too. Spread your legs for us.”

You do as he says, needing what he’s promising you—needing it from them both. Maybe then, when it’s from such a vast source, will you get your full healing.

Yoongi squirts a good amount of lube on his fingers, smearing it on your pussy. The coldness of it enlivens you and you lean your head back against the hardness of Jungkook’s chest, pressing your lips against his bulging muscles. And when Yoongi begins to massage your clit in slow circles, the healer tightens his hold around you, hand gripping your shoulders, the other one gliding down your tummy and staying there. Nipples pebbled against his forearm, breasts full and squished, your form safe, tucked, pleasured in the whole enormity that he is—you relax, giving yourself over to the delight of your boyfriend’s fingers.

He sinks two of them inside you, stuffing you to the brim and pausing there. Jungkook sneaks his towards your bundle of nerves, resuming the circles, breaths hot against your scalp, gaining pleasure from pleasuring you, especially so when your healing is the primary goal behind it.

And when Yoongi begins to fuck you, his hand drops from your shoulder and settles over your tit, pinching your nipple between the knuckles of his thumb and forefinger. You cry out and it drives your boyfriend to pump his digits harder—to the point that you can’t see the in and out motion, the pace so fast it becomes a blur.

“Let go, honey, come on, let it go for us,” Yoongi murmurs, putting his whole body into his intention; you would move along with him, too, if Jungkook weren’t holding you so tightly. “You feel so good around my fingers. So tight, so wet. Such a good girl, getting what you deserve.”

Jungkook quickens his circles, gruff groans muffled against your scalp. “You can do it, sweetheart. I know it feels good when we touch you like this.”

Your body drips in sweat and only when Yoongi agrees, pistons his fingers faster into you do you fully let go. Your anger, your trauma, your darkness leaves you in the form of your dew and Yoongi collects it in his hand. Doesn’t stop fucking you, in fact encourages another one and you spill until your wetness overflows from his hand. Eyes rolling back, hips lifting, legs spreading even further apart. Both men praise you, but you can’t hear them—your senses silent.

They come back to you when Yoongi licks his digits clean, swallowing your pain. Doesn’t waste time and turns you around, your sore, sensitive body colliding into Jungkook’s. And like him, he dives into your pussy, licking you clean, not having enough of your darkened taste.

You’re so out of it that you can only focus on the brush of Jungkook’s hand down your hair and the overstimulation that seizes you, that you can’t do anything about other than take it. “Coming so well, so many times for us. You feel better?”

You can’t answer his question, not when Yoongi begins to trace your tiny, virgin hole with his tongue, giving you a new kind of pleasure that you’ve never felt before. Your eyes whisk to the back of your head and Jungkook cradles it, understanding whooshing past his eyes—understanding that you can’t speak, not when you’re experiencing something so extensive. He smiles down at you, squishing your cheeks. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Fuck, you look so pretty.”

Your choked out moans are enough of an affirmation for him. He coos. Then, a squirt of lube. A finger slowly going in. A gasp, a warm breath that Jungkook inhales, feeling it with you. The uncertainty in your eyes that he instantly smooths out. “You can take it. You’re such a good girl, why wouldn’t you be able to take it? Just relax. I got you.” He kisses your nose and you want to weep in joy, so overcome with it all.

Per his reassurance, your round muscle relaxes and sucks him in. And when he begins to fuck you, you can’t contain your sounds. So lewd, so dirty, and Jungkook emboldens you by scrunching up his features, groaning with you, taking breaths with you. You give in, entirely, feel another orgasm coming, but Yoongi rips it away. Wants you to come around the thicker toy.

The coldness of it makes you tremble, although the hunger both of the males awakened in you for it drives you to move your hips back, helping Yoongi insert it in. It takes a few tries, a few ins and outs before you welcome in it, before the fullness enthralls you so much that you become even needier, even more confident and seductive.

Yoongi presents you to his friend, but each movement you make causes you to be more desperate than you’ve been the entire sultry night. Everything is heightened—every touch, every enjoyment of praise, every sliver of attention and all you want is to be fucked. Brutally, ravagedly fucked.

To absorb the sight of you as you’re positioned on your hands and knees, Jungkook begins to make love on the skin of your behind with his tongue. You feel every word of apology compressed into it. For every bruise, for every red splodge, for every acute pain caused, no matter how much you enjoyed it in the moment. It’s just between you and him, shielded by the premise of desire stirred by your adorned tiny hole. And you keep it that way, whimpering for him sweetly, validating it for him. Tucking it safely into every chamber of your heart.

Then, he strokes the flesh, replacing the bad memories with good ones—replacing the past with the present time. Lies down between your legs and pushes your hips down onto your face.

And you ride him. His tongue, his nose. Fondle the kitty ears askew on his head. Let his moans envelop around those chambers of your heart, protecting them. Let his eyes seal your scorching, enchanting femininity with all its spirited confidence. And once he pacifies the grinding movement of your hips and takes control, palming your breasts, lips sucking your clit, tongue toying with it, you come in seconds that are not pathetic in nature, but outright exhilarating.

You lean back against Yoongi, out of breath. He wraps his hand around your throat. “What do you want now, honey? You want to get fucked?”

You hum, the idea clutching your body in tight excitement. “Yes. Badly. Please.”

At your words, Jungkook begins to tug at his length and the needy movement reverberates throughout your entire body. You coo at him, enjoying the view and you get on your knees in front of the couch to watch him, inhaling his sounds like he did yours.

“You want us to take turns? He stops, as if he was seconds away from coming, and you wrap your lips around him, letting him know how much you like the idea—at which he trembles, pulling you away. You grin at him in pure joy. “Like the sound of that?”

“Fuck yes. Please. Both holes.”

Jungkook hisses, round, dark eyes rolling back for a split moment, losing himself—thumb swiping across your mouth once he comes back. “Daddy’s so fucking needy for you. Come here.”

He manhandles you. Like a child he carries you to the dining space and bends you over the table. You turn your head to see where Yoongi is and he slowly swaggers towards you and Jungkook, popping his button open and pulling out his length. Tip red and painfully swollen, length long and hard—longer than you’ve ever seen it—balls tight. And when Jungkook begins to fuck you sluggishly with the butt plug, you grip the wood of the table with all your strength, fingertips white, and watch as it drives Yoongi to fuck his fist.

The same fist he cups under your chin when he reaches you. “Spit.”

And you do—at the same time that Jungkook forces out the silver toy, tongue immediately coming to whirl around the stretched muscle. Like before, as Jungkook fucks you there, Yoongi fucks his fist. The sounds that spill out of all three mouths are simultaneous, creating a harmony fitting just right for the paradise you find yourself in. It’s such a vigor that he eats your ass with—he does it much differently than Yoongi. Hungry and feral, he again buries his face in your ass, squeezing the flesh, before he drills the muscle with fast, strong jabs. You can’t see anything, the pleasure so intense, so darkly intense and heavily pressured that your vision remains perpetually in the back of your head. Your orgasm closes down upon you swiftly, at once, when he rubs your clit with all four fingers, not expecting it at all as no flashes danced across that night-doused canopy of nothingness before your eyes, no body heat nor pressure rose. Jungkook secures your release by slipping the butt plug back in, smacking his mouth in delight. You slump against the table, boneless.

Jungkook takes your arms and pins them behind your back, angling the hot tip of his cock at your entrance. “You ready for this?”

Your yes is but a tweet.

Jungkook hums, breaths hard. “You want this cock?”

This time, your yes is a louder screech, vibrating through the whole apartment.

“Hm, I’m gonna stretch you out for him. Make your hole nice and big for all the cum we’ll dump you with. You’re gonna take it all like the good girl you are, aren’t you?”

Both of your holes, your muscles, your organs clench at his words and you can’t halt the litany of vulgar words and agreement from pouring out. His grip around your intertwined forearms is deathly and when he fills you to the brim, tip kissing your cervix, walls stretching around his thick girth little by little and gives you a singular, hard stroke that shakes the table, you scream so loud that the sound echoes around the room, carrying it out into the feverish night.

Your words are jumbled, a perfect mess, and it takes more than a few tries for you to get them out coherently. “You’re—you’re giving me all of it?” you ask, because if there’s more inches for you to take, you’ll die.

Jungkook chuckles, darkly, lips at your ear, his body heat enveloping yours like a chunky blanket. Sneaks a hand to your hip bone. Sinks a little deeper until his pelvis touches yours, his heat spreading into all of your pores. You gasp. “I’m giving you every.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Inch.” Thrust. “And it’s all yours, sweetheart.”

You’re breathless, weak, and it’s a slow crescendo, the way he begins to roll his hips, the way he straightens and the fresh wind goes for the imprint of sweat of your and his origin on your back, cooling it, though he rips the briskness away almost instantaneously, repeating his hard stroke, the table banging against the wall. Doesn’t give you the time to prepare.

“Can you take it?” he asks, along with that dark chuckle again. Your hands begins to tingle due to the way he’s gripping your wrists, your blood at a standstill. “Can you take us both, huh?”

Brutal thrust. Just what you wanted. He takes you by the throat and presses you against his chest, kissing you with such vulgarity that you moan into his mouth, the fullness you feel only heightening it. He grinds in response, hands descending to your breasts, kneading them, pinching both of your nipples between his knuckles and thumbs. “Pretty fucking girl.”

You whine.

He withdraws, then. Motions over to Yoongi. The loss disappoints you.

A man of his word, Jungkook stretched you enough for Yoongi to easily slip inside you to the hilt. You expect him to give you a few strokes before giving you over to his friend, and you prop your hands on the table to ready yourself for it, for Yoongi’s hunger as he’s the only one who hasn’t felt any pleasure over the course of the adventure.

But Yoongi only grips himself and pulls out.

A thicker length. To the brim. A slender one. And they repeat it until all you can hear is the madness of their aroused laughter, their grunts and their pants. Hands all over you. The feeling is so overwhelming that everything becomes a blur. You don’t know whose hand is touching you, whose mouth is kissing you, whose cock is drilling you, senses ascending to a place beyond the paradise—

And then you feel both of their tips toying with your abused hole, acting, feignedly—drawing in and out, never fully penetrating.

A short-lived moment that causes you to forget who you are.

“Oh, god,” you drawl, slumping against the wood, helpless. They continue to take turns in fucking you fluidly, the symphony of your slick so loud, so filthy to your ears. You’re numb to the point that you don’t peep a sound, disoriented and so adrift in the place beyond paradise that they took you to.

Jungkook takes control once he hears your call for help. Begins to piston his length inside you rapidly until stars take shape across your vision, wrapping a forearm around your neck similarly to the way he did in the middle of your healing, digging crescent moons into your shoulder. Stops your head from knocking back and forth furiously. You feel his sweat drip down his pelvis—and with each hard thrust, its pearls jump over to your skin, trickling down your trembling legs. The pressure in your core is but a heartbeat away from bursting. You sense it—and you sense it vehemently.

“Are you gonna come around my cock or around his, hm? Whose is it gonna be, sweetheart?”

Your body answers him for you, your walls tightening around him so resolutely that Jungkook stills, whimpering onto your neck. You come so hard that there is absolutely nothing else that you hear but that whiny sound—and all you can see is the stars gaining vibrant colors to their pointed shapes, various, various colors that blind you. Colors that, like you, get dumped with hot, ivory, thick cum.

Your orgasm triggered his.

You mewl like a little kitty cat, so pleased that he came in you, so pleased that you felt it, that you felt the twitching of his cock. Pleased that when you gape at him, you can see how spent he is, content and illuminated like those stars.

You want to lick him up. You want to taste that glow on your tongue.

His cum drips out of you when you turn around. Jungkook collects it with two of his fingers and pumps it back inside you. The look you give him is almost predatory, so awfully fierce that he grows faintly timid, post-nut clarity cocooning him in a soft aura, bringing his puppy nature back to him.

You sit back down on the table and spread your legs for your boyfriend, but your gaze remains fixed on him. Blindly, you reach for Yoongi’s hand, drawing him closer, and he happily obliges your silent command. Lines himself up at your entrance and pumps Jungkook’s cum deeper into you.

You let the puppy see the exhilaration springing up your body, tugging the corners of your mouth to each side. The glint in your eyes. The pure joy that you feel. Then, the falling of that expression as it blends into a depiction of your pleasure—furrowed brows, pout, narrowed lids. You don’t take your eyes off of him. Not even for a second.

In fact, you curl your fingers in beckoning. And when he comes to you, you lick a stripe of the sweat coating his defined abdomen, tongue rolling around the valley of his hard muscle. Kiss the skin before you suck it into your mouth, moaning when Yoongi goes all in—fucking you with all of his energy. The taste of his glow only betters the experience, but you don’t think you can come again. You enjoy it, nonetheless.

And when you turn your attention to your boyfriend, deeming he deserves it—Jungkook steals it in typical fashion. “Feels good?” Light, much bigger than yours, covering his eyes. You nod, humming, girlishly so—the sound pitched. “You’re gonna come again? For him?”

You consider it an impossible task, but for him you’ll do anything. “I’ll try.”

Jungkook makes a sound of approval, leans in and kisses you gently. Yoongi turns your chin to him and as soon as your lips touch his, you feel his cock twitch. Unlike Jungkook, he fucks you through his orgasm, groaning loudly into your mouth and you reach to the place, where you’re connected and squeeze his balls, wanting his cum, needing it.

And when Yoongi emerges from his bliss, he smiles at you, breathing out a soft laugh. Features relaxed, drowsy. You give him a smile, too, the same tiredness engulfing you.

Slinking out of you, you discover he came so vastly that his male essence trickles out of you. You graze a finger across your slit and you gather so much of it that as you take your hand towards your mouth, it plops onto your stomach. You giggle, high on the hormones released through your body, high on the happy males watching you, high on life—high on rightness. The joy doesn’t even let you wrap your lips around your finger, adamant on showing them how well they gratified you by keeping them stretched in a dopey grin.

They’re so endeared by you that the same expression graces their faces. Exchanging a single glance, they start at once—picking you up like a child. Yoongi by your legs, Jungkook by your pits and it’s him, the healer, who leads the way to the bathroom, walking backwards hurriedly.

Though promptly, when putting you down, your legs are so sore, so weakened that if it weren’t for their arms, you’d fall onto the tiles. Giggles and obscenities are swallowed by the crooning sound of the streaming hot water in the shower and you sigh so deeply once it touches your skin. It alleviates the ache of your muscles, alleviates the throbbing memory of the last time you were under that burning cascade—especially when Yoongi twists your body, making you face Jungkook; especially when he says the words that quicken your heartbeat.

“Wash her clean.”

Making things right. Erasing that afternoon that ended in blood and bruises.

The wet, puppy eyes you give to Jungkook are enough for him to do as Yoongi says, mirroring your mien, greatly affected by the permission, by the act of something so forbidden untangling its inextricable knot. It happened so suddenly that he doesn’t truly believe he’s allowed to do it, hands shaking by his sides, clenched into fists. It is only when Yoongi begins to shampoo your hair that he’s spurred to do something.

And you help him. With a thudding heart and tight emotion lodged in your throat, you hand him your favorite almond-scented body wash. He doesn’t tear his gaze away from you when he spreads the aroma on your sternum. Doesn’t blink once, doesn’t let his eyes wander south to your body—as if it was sacred, as if it was not meant to be looked at with lust in this intimate scenario.

And you don’t feel fire when the heat of his hands glides down your neck, your shoulders and your arms. You feel something else entirely, something you can’t really pinpoint. Something holy, something so immensely heavenly. Maybe it’s brought about by the fact that he doesn’t touch your intimate parts—not your breasts, not your vulva. The only time he comes near to it is when he leads you into his chest and carefully, while peeking down, tries to pull out the forgotten toy. You sense Yoongi’s hands on your backside, watching over, and the feeling of being rid of it is so uncomfortable that you cringe against his pec, squeezing him hard, hugging him with everything in you. Jungkook makes gentle sounds for you, encouraging you and it relaxes your body enough that it lets go of the toy.

Grabbing your shoulders, he studies your emotions. Sees only your same old tiredness and he pecks you, descending onto the tiled floor to cleanse you of your stickiness. Isn’t grossed out by the male essence that isn’t his. Kisses your trembling muscles on the apex of your thigh. Cradles your foot, massages it. The other one, too.

And when Yoongi rinses out your shampoo and the bubbles of your almond body wash, Jungkook tells him, gravely, “Wash her where she needs it.”

You’re so touched by the fact he doesn’t dare to lay a hand there in a non-sexual environment that it doesn’t leave any space for shock to come through. Your finger itches to hook around his, but you take one step further—you slide your hand into his. And like a child, you let yourself be washed in between your legs as Jungkook, like a father, watches over it.

Once you’re clean, the males take their turns. You observe the bubbles, the white foam, their veined hands gliding along their glistening bodies and, alternating, you touch them, helping them in a way. Touch the love bruise upon Jungkook’s abdomen; touch the indistinct happy trail on Yoongi’s. Rinse them off.

Needing to be held, you guide Jungkook’s hands to your waist and fold your arms around Yoongi’s shoulders, but both males think differently. Squishing you in the middle of them, they hug each other, each head buried in each crook of your neck. You feel their hearts beat as one and it nearly lulls you to sleep, its healing beauty soothing you to the point that your lids become heavier. And the three of you stand there, in a cozy, homely embrace, until coldness wraps around you, too.

They let you do your thing on your own.

Once you come out of the shower, Yoongi kisses you and asks you if he should bring you any clothes. You merely shake your head and he leaves it at that, following Jungkook out of the bathroom.

You lather your body in your mango butter in your aloneness. Blowdry your hair. Do your skincare. Note that there aren’t any thoughts in your brain, just deep, content silence swimming around with happy hormones. You’re so grateful for it that you could weep.

To bed, you wear your newest purchase. A pink lacy camisole with matching bodycon shorts. You slide your feet into your fluffy slippers and as you make your way into the living room, you hope with all your heart that Jungkook hasn’t left. You haven’t exchanged many words after the sex and because of that, you knife yourself with the expectation to find only Yoongi lounging around in the sitting area.

Midwalk, you bind it all into a loose braid. Don’t use a tie to seal it. Merely flip your hair back—with the futile wish it would untangle.

And it does when you find the males smoking on the balcony with the door wide open. Jungkook, fully dressed in the outfit he came in. Yoongi, wearing his pants. You let out a quiet breath of relief, stooping to the ground to pick up your robe and the cheese ball, a dreadful twinge in your lower body alarming you. And then, you notice that someone folded your little sheer outfit neatly on the chair.

“I wasn’t able to touch her after you,” you hear Yoongi say, the wholeness of the starry night plating his low pitch. You still your breathing, the perplexity from his words forcing you to whisk your head in his direction. “All I saw was my shortcomings… and—and I didn’t know how to please her anymore because you showed her new things. I felt less than. Unable to be the right person for her sexually.”

Your heart shrinks so much it pains you. Yoongi never told you these things during the therapy sessions. He mainly spoke about the sexual moments at the cabin, but never about the ones after, never about what truly bothered him on his healing journey. He bottled it up. Your throat fills with bile.

“Has what we did tonight changed that?” Jungkook asks, shoulders tense. “We practically did the same things and she was more than pleased.”

Your heart grows back to its full size at the positive mention of you. You rise to your full form, flinging the cheese ball into its empty bowl before folding your robe. Your ears perk in waiting for his answer.

“I think so.” The bile sinks back down, along with the pain coated with sadness. “I also think we should do this again.”

Your mind doesn’t allow your body to exult, knowing the reason why he said it.

He wants to either finish the hidden healing or… check if it has come to an end.

The tension doesn’t ease in Jungkook’s shoulders. “Only if you work hard and focus on her. I’m not consenting to this if you only touch her with me being present.”

Silence in your heart—a skipped beat. You don’t want to hear any more of that conversation. You put away your robe and grab the dishes, washing them in the sink.

No matter how much dish soap you use, you can’t scrub away the healer’s magic off of your hands. It pelts under your skin, to and fro, over and over as you repeat his words in your mind. Gives strength to your fingers as you hold the unusually heavy plates and bowls, the tiredness a hefty burden on your shoulders, weighing you down.

Such a good man. You’re so grateful to know such an extraordinary being like him. A good friend, the best you could wish for Yoongi. A good lover, too—

“I think it’s way bigger and deeper, this relationship and how I feel about it. I can’t help it—” Jungkook’s voice no longer a far-off murmuring, he halts his words at the sight of you. Calls your name. “I thought you were asleep already.”

You turn off the tap water, ignoring the question in your body about the incomplete sentence he uttered while being under the impression you were beyond hearing distance. Think you’ve learned and come about plenty enough of things tonight. You want to go to bed. With both of them.

You don’t say your reasoning behind why you’re here. Deem it’s pointless. “Let’s go to bed.”

You reach out your hand for him, but it is only the wind that encases your palm. You drop it.

A chaos of shoulds and desires swarms in him. You can see it, vividly. “I should go home.”

You’re having your way, you don’t care. “No. Stay.”

Jungkook calls your name again. Yoongi licks his lips, smiling, fondly. Walks towards you and grabs your hand, leading you towards the bedroom. The puppy stays fixed on his feet, not comprehending that you want him to sleep in Yoongi’s bed and not on the couch.

You raise your hand again for him. “Come, you’re sleeping with us.”

Jungkook has gone commando under his jeans. You eye the sliver of minimal hair on his pelvis and before you can ogle his worm, he cups himself.

Unabashedly, you click your tongue in disappointment, even though the recollection of your private decision to have his boxers as a keepsake, approved by him, suffuses your exhausted body in delight.

You get under the sheets, right in the middle, watching as Yoongi hands him his gray sweatpants to wear, holding your breath when Jungkook turns around and you gain a perfect view of his round, toned ass.

You’re certain that man will be the death of you.

Yoongi crawls into the bed, nuzzling into the crooks of your body that he knows well, cuddling to your arm. You hear him inhale the scent of your shampoo. “You smell so good.”

You stroke his forearm with your fingernails, transfixed by the way the waistband of the forbidden pants hangs low on Jungkook’s hips, by his slow, seductive walk that you don’t particularly think he’s doing on purpose. That’s just what makes him him, which worsens it all.

In similar fashion, he lays down beside you, but he doesn’t turn to his side as your boyfriend has done. No, like you, he rests on his back, hands by his body, touching you without meaning to. His warmth environs you, but you notice that a good half of his body isn’t covered by the sheets. You fix it right away, tucking him in—tucking the fabric right under his chin.

He gives you a strange look that makes you giggle. “You want me to burn?”

Oh, men and their body heat. You’ll never grow tired of it—it’ll forevermore fascinate you.

You shush him. “Sleep.” Pinch his nose, deepening his funny scowl. “Goodnight, sweet dreams.”

Yoongi begins to purr beside you and you know he’s halfway on his journey to dreamland. You lay back down, hip to hip with both males, hands on your tummy, your eyes languidly fluttering closed.

A hand on your thigh. You open them fleetingly, surprised at the contact, before they close on their own.

“I’ve missed his purring,” Jungkook whispers, thumb brushing across your smooth skin. Just once. “Haven’t heard it in a while. It’s better than brown noise.”

You laugh, softly, agreeing with him in your heart. Submit to the call of your own dreamland and you turn to your side, facing Yoongi, propping the back of your hand under your chin.

But then Jungkook folds into your form.

Mirrors your position. Arm around you, hand relaxed on the mattress an inch away from your tummy.

It makes you feel funny. It makes you wild, your body gaining the tiniest tendril of energy. You curse him, mentally, although you don’t mean a single word.

You feel his gentle breath fanning the nape of your neck. Along with it arrives the need for him to touch you. You purse your lips, burying your head deeper into the pillow in effort to shake that off and focus on relaxing your body—

“Hyung?”

He hums in response. You curse him, too.

“She didn’t come when you fucked her.”

Your eyes fly open. The audacity this man has—

Tense, tense nothingness. It thrums uncomfortably under your skin.

“Lemme make it right.”

Radio silence in your heart, its profound waves shaking through your entire body, tearing off its drowsiness.

“Okay, Jungkookie.”

Your gasp is so minimal, yet Jungkook feels it. He presses his palm against your stomach, pulling you closer to him. Yoongi turns to his other side, as if giving you the privacy for what Jungkook wants to do to you.

Reposing halfway on his back, halfway on his side, he maneuvers your form to mirror his position. And for the longest time, you both just lay there while Jungkook brushes his fingers along your clothed body. Back and forth, in circles, in peculiar patterns that soothe you. You thought you’d fall asleep this way, but the touches keep your body awake, promising it things in a silent language that it so evidently wants.

And it isn’t until Yoongi begins to snore that you perceive Jungkook waited until he entered his deep slumber. The breath you let out is loud, absorbed by your boyfriend’s much bigger ones, but it makes Jungkook hold your jaw steady as he draws his lips close to your ear.

“I didn’t like that he used you,” he whispers and his words fill your body with something foreign, something that drives your brows to knit, your muscles to clench, for butterflies to stir awake, although you disagree with him. Yoongi didn’t use you. You don’t really think he did. When you motioned him to take his turn, you expected to come again, but your body was so spent that it wasn’t able to do so, which is completely okay in your opinion. “If I fuck a girl and I come first before she does, I don’t stop until she creams all around me. Even if it hurts.”

You remember him pushing you away when you wanted to keep going after he orgasmed. “You don’t like to be overstimulated, though.”

He snickers again, softly and lowly. “And yet I don’t stop.” Both hands on your tummy, he glides them down, towards your hips, towards your thighs before he drags them back up. Lifts up your camisole this time around, getting a feel of your skin. Rubs circles. “I want to make you come like you deserved to. Can I?”

“I came a lot of times. I don’t know if I can.”

Jungkook caresses your bottom lip with his thumb, angling your jaw towards him. “We can try and see if you can.”

We. He kisses your cheek and you pout in his hand. Brain turned off, too numb by all the orgasms, the attention and the affection you’ve received, you take the other one and slide it beneath your shorts. Feel an onrush of freshness in your lungs when he whimpers at the contact of your lips with the pads of his fingers and you move your hips back against him, gaining another sound of similar nature that willingly tempts your madness to return to you.

He’s hard.

You grind your backside against his thick imprint, loving the feeling of it, loving the soft noises he makes as if he was trying to stifle them, but you were making it awfully difficult for him to do so.

“Don’t do that or I’ll cum in Yoongi’s pants.”

Your laugh is feral. Quiet, gentle. An oxymoron that could only belong to his name. To his art. The idea of him coming in your boyfriend’s pants drenches you and he gasps once he discovers it, teasing your entrance.

“You want me to come like this?” he asks and you hum your agreement, his fingers ascending to your clit, stroking it in slow, slow circles. His breath hardens in tandem with yours and he swears. “But I don’t and you will listen to me.”

He pulls out his hand and you whine, catching his wrist, bringing it back where it belongs. On your clothed, now swollen clit. You grind your hips with more fervor, just to work him up, just because you enjoy it and he fists the material of your shorts, stimulating you with the seam, dominating you through and through.

You merely beam at him, illuminating the room, fisting his cock. “Don’t stretch out my new shorts.”

“Don’t provoke me and we’ll reach an understanding,” he retorts, swirling his tongue around the bone of your jaw before he kisses it. Responding to it, you grind your pelvis back, angling your hips so his cock fits just right in between your cheeks. He tuts in disapproval, shifts a little bit more to his side nonetheless, pulling you flush to his body. “No, other way sweetheart. Grind your pussy against it.” You try it, placing your hand on top of his, unsure and he helps you, guiding your hips with his, grinding upwards, as if he was fucking you. You mewl at the pleasure permeating your veins and with his free hand, he clamps your mouth shut. “Yes, that’s it.” He tightens his hold on your shorts, hoisting it higher. “Feels so good like this, doesn’t it?” You nod, your noises loud, only slightly muffled by his clammy hand. He shushes you, breath hot against your ear. “You gotta be quiet. We don’t wanna wake Yoongi up, do we?” You shake your head ‘no’, squeezing your hold on his hand. Jungkook lets go of your shorts and slides beneath them again, fingers spreading your new arousal on your clit. You squeak again, terribly sensitive and turned on, bound in his arms. “I told you to be quiet. Do you know what happens to girls who don’t listen?”

You’re glad to hear he didn’t add “to me”, for some deranged reason and for that, you don’t peep a sound.

“They get punished,” he answers for you and you can’t stop the moan from escaping your throat, the idea of getting punished by him again making you utterly, utterly delirious.

He strains his fingers around your mouth until it hurts, but that’s not the reason why you draw it away. You do it so you can speak. “Teach me a lesson, please. I need it.”

You wish you could see his reaction, but the darkness keeps it to itself. You can only hear the sharp inhale of breath he takes—and you can feel the twitch of his cock against you that divulges to you that he’s gone mad just the same.

While silence takes place, he drags your shorts down to your thighs, the tight cotton preventing you from spreading your legs. He moves you so you lay on your back and from this position, you sense Yoongi’s body heat and the lift and fall of his chest, though he still remains facing you with his back. Jungkook lifts your camisole until your breasts are exposed. And then, he props the back of your head on his bicep, clamping your mouth back shut. He looks down at you and you can only slightly make out his features. The glint of his lip ring irradiates him. Mercifully.

You want to kiss him so bad.

“How does Yoongi punish you, hm?”

The question shocks you, coaxes out a string of your arousal to drop down your clenched thighs. Whilst he waits for your answer, he grazes his palm down your sternum, your stomach, your mound. Leaves it there.

It’s your body that responds out of its own will, not your brain. You can’t, for the life of you, think. He allows you to speak. “With his words. His cock. And… with pussy spanks.”

Jungkook hums. Puts the covers out, revealing you to himself. “Show me how he spanks you.” Your hand trembles as he lifts it. He brushes his thumb across your knuckles while he places it on your cunt, taking control of that expression of nerves. Wraps the other hand around your throat.

When your fingers collide with your clit, you hiss in sensitivity. Decide you will only show him this way. You can’t take any more. “Like this. Gently, but firmly. So it doesn’t hurt. He doesn’t like to cause me pain.”

He exchanges your hand with his and spanks you. With bigger firmness than Yoongi ever used. You arch your back, not expecting it with your dumb brain. He pinches your right nipple between his knuckle and thumb, making you moan softly, not having enough and enveloping it with his mouth, sucking briefly before he swirls his tongue around the nub. Your wetness rushes out, along with your noises that you’re just so incapable of stopping. You grip his hair on the back of his head and in response he flicks the muscle. Your hips buck, asking for attention.

Jungkook withdraws, stares you dead in the eye. “I’m punishing you for making a sound and yet you do as you please?”

You swear, eyes wide. “I’m sorry.”

He spanks your clit. “Sorry what?”

Remembrance flashes through your mind. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Hm, that’s right.” He rubs your clit rapidly. Spanks it again. Your moans come out in strained breaths. “That was for the curse word. Say you’re sorry.”

But then, you can’t help but mewl at his fatherliness. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

He pecks you, deeply. For the title, for your good manners or perhaps to silence you—you don’t know. “How sorry?”

His fingers find your clit again, strumming it, lips moving against you in a passionate kiss. Your brain malfunctions. “So sorry,” you whisper onto his mouth, gripping his hair.

He spanks you, softly, for pleasure, then continues. “You won’t say it again?”

“No.”

A sound of approval. “Good girl.” He sinks his middle finger inside you as far as your restrain allows him, fucking you slowly. The pressure of delight begins to build in you. “One more?”

“Yes, please, Daddy.”

Ring finger joins in, instantly. “Such a good girl. I love hearing you say that.” He jackhammers into you a few times before he stills, thumbing your clit. The fullness, the stimulation on your most needy part—it’s enough to make you come and you feel it chasing you again, nearing and nearing. “I want to fuck you like this with my fingers and have that toy on your clit. The one we used the last time. Keep the setting low, so it wouldn’t wake him up.”

A curse word rises on your tongue, but with the last brain cell you have—you swallow it down. You’re tiptoeing before the edge, knot tight in your tummy, pressure so enormous, and you tell him. “I’m gonna come.”

He lifts his thumb. “Hold it.”

You panic, faintly, standing still before the edge, face to face with your orgasm, close, terribly close. “I can’t.”

Jungkook shifts. “You will.” Bends you in half while keeping his fingers inside you, mouth latching onto your soaked cunt.

Takes control of your orgasm as he begins to toy with it, building it little by little with sluggish circles on your clit with the tip of his tongue. Then, he wraps his lips around it, nibbling on it and resumes the movement of his fingers, fucking you steadily.

The pleasure is so new, so different that you feel as though you’re levitating in heavenly places. You grind your hips against him, meeting him, but briefly. When he sucks your clit, he stills your motions and spreads shakes across your entire body. “Come for Daddy, sweetheart.”

He flicks his tongue—and you do. You come so violently for him that you grip his hair with all your might, surprised that he isn’t wincing in pain. And he doesn’t stop.

He keeps going until all that’s left of you is nothing but the cordiality of your high and those shudders, licking you up, devouring all that you’re giving him, wet fingers spread on the back of your thighs.

Then, he sets your legs down, straddles you and kisses you nastily. Makes you taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue and he enjoys the principle of it all. Enjoys giving back to you what you leaked for him. “I could have you come on my tongue all night.” He pecks you, swirls his tongue around yours. “You kept quiet through it all. Good girl. You learn so well.”

You’re speechless, satisfied, sensing something approaching you that you fail to understand. Something bigger than attachment, but smaller than feelings. Connected to his healing gift or perhaps invented from it. Something that’s smack dab in the middle, growing in you, and you submit to it, unafraid of it.

A certain desire fraternizes with it. You push at his shoulder, wanting him on his back. As if he senses what it is, he stays put. Solid as a rock. In both ways.

But you’ll have your own.

You tug the waistband of Yoongi’s sweats down his hips and grasp him in your hand, spreading his thick arousal down his length. Jungkook’s breath shakes, but his words don’t. “When did I tell you you could do that?”

You grab him with both hands, squeezing him. He hisses, muscles bulging along his arms on either side of you. “I’m sorry, Daddy. Can I?”

He coos. “Only because you’re so well-mannered.” Nods at you. “Keep going. Make your Daddy feel good.” Your Daddy. The fire it sparks in you, you put its wholeness into your movement—jerking him off, twisting your wrists, using all of your strength. “Hands off.” He spits on his head, the trail long and delicious to your eyes and you’re quick, you’re desperate, to resume and make him come, ache pressing down on your pussy all over again.

The slickness, his stifled noises, the snug warmth—you understand all of a sudden how he’s able to feel your pleasure because you’re experiencing it. You are pleasured because you’re pleasuring him. But still, you want more. You press him against your clit. “Fuck my hands like this, please.”

He repositions your hands. Slides them lower on his length, so his tip can stimulate your bundle of nerves. And when he begins to thrust, you’re transfixed.

By the roll of his hips, the clenching of his abdominal muscles, the evident delight overwhelming his body. You can’t take your eyes off of him. Especially not when he lets his guttural vocality loose.

You smile. “You should be quiet.”

He laughs down at you, softly. It vibrates in your core. He kisses you, humming into your mouth. “You’re right, but it feels so good like this. Doesn’t it feel good on your pussy?”

You nod, biting his lip, angling your head and devouring his mouth, plagued by his arousal, by his pleasure, by his response to your little slyness. He fucks your hands faster, gliding across your clit, not lasting for a moment longer. He shoots out his hot cum onto your tummy, cock twitching in your hands, his noises muffled by your mouth.

And he remains there. Even as he fingers you so fast that you come in seconds. Even as he takes those drenched digits, collects his male essence and plunges them into your mouth. “‘Atta girl. So good for me.”

He cleans your folds and thighs with his tongue. Dresses you, like a child. Fixes your camisole. Puts the covers back on you and spoons you.

Yoongi remains soundly asleep. You succumb to slumber faster than you came but before you do, it’s Jungkook’s words that lead you to that dreamland. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Sweet dreams.”

In the morning, you wake up first. And the sight you see is so profoundly beautiful that you take a moment to gape at it, folding it into your heart.

Jungkook drools in his sleep. Celestial countenance, tousled hair in all directions, broad chest lifting and falling in absolute tranquility. He twists his features for a split second, as if he was dreaming about something uncomfortable and you’re so affected by it that you look away.

Turn your gaze to your boyfriend instead.

Still snoring, mouth parted. Ebony hair brushed back, exposing his forehead. The corners of his lips tug up and stay and you think angels must be playing with him in his dreams. You kiss his arm, crawling back, painfully, until your feet hit the floor.

You take a long, long shower. Practice your gratitude, recollecting last night’s events and words spoken by Jungkook that weren’t as private as he thought. Hearing them, they were too fresh to be consumed, but now that you think about them—your own smile finds your lips and you agree with him in your heart. You can’t let him walk away after this. Can’t let him return to his normal life that exists without you, not when you’re something along the lines of attached to him. Hell, you can’t return to your own normal life without him. Without his touch, without his celestiality. Without his attentiveness and healing gift.

This has to be a continuous relationship.

Jungkook was the one who called it that way and it feels right. Even as you taste it on your tongue, it’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever swallowed. It fills your body with verve, one that you deem is essential at this point. One that you will need every single day from now on.

You have to talk about this with Yoongi. The idea doesn’t scare you, despite the fact you can’t really picture his reaction. Can’t imagine which way it will gravitate towards—whether to light or to dark. You don’t mind at all, in fact you look forward to it and you wash your body with greater care than you ever handled it with before.

With a face mask on, you take your cosmetic bag and do your makeup in the living room. The sunlight spills in, kissing your ebullient mien, and you imprint its red marks with a touch of blush across your cheeks, its lovely color with glitter on your eyelids and you finish the job with a few brushes of mascara upon your lashes and a singular swipe of a glimmering lip gloss on your lips.

It is only then that Jungkook appears in front of you.

“He still sleeps like a bear.”

You’re so happy to see him that it manifests on your face.

“Don’t try to wake him up or you’ll get eaten.”

Placing your cosmetic bag on his lap, he sits beside you. “I wouldn’t dare.” Examines your face for a good moment. “Why are you putting this on? You don’t need it.”

“I enjoy it,” you say, watching fondly as he takes out each makeup product and scans them. Once he comes across your tiny tubes of glitter of various shades, light flickers in his eyes. Your heart does the same thing. And a somersault right after.

“You wear glitter?”

You nod, a precious, girlish smile stretching your glossy mouth. “I’m wearing it right now.” You close your eyes for him, letting him see the small sparkles, resplendent of the sun. He praises you, the word ‘pretty’ embracing you tightly in all its snug simplicity, forcing your eyes open. A brighter spark shines in his irises. You brim with the yearning to doll up his eyes to match it and, having your way as always, you steal the tubes from him. “Which one do you want?”

He doesn’t even fight you. As a matter of fact, he’s already decided. Doesn’t waste a second to reply. “The silver one.”

Excitedly, you quiver all over. Dab the applicator on the back of your hand and lift your sight to catch him smiling cutely at you like the puppy he is. Your hand itches to ruffle his hair. Grab his cheek and bite into it. Go for his nose next.

Whirling the pad of your finger on the splatter of glitter, you hover it above his lids. “Close your eyes.”

He listens, immediately. You pat the imitation of his glint across that soft skin, but you focus on that beautiful, pouty smile of his. Think you’ll save his lips for last and savor them as you eat them.

You swipe your finger for more and adorn his other eye. Take the rest and speckle it on the highest points of his cheekbones—this time with his attention all on you.

You lean back to observe your artwork and find that something is missing. You know right away what it is.

You dab the applicator on his cupid’s bow and drag it down his collarbones. Take care of that first before you move over to his lips. You blend it there with utmost care and he lets you, zeroining his gaze into yours. Deep, but gentle. Loving.

To finish it, you kiss him. And it’s not because you were driven by your emotions or by that stare of his. You do it because you want to. Kiss him again, so the highlight is perfectly blended.

He’s puzzled when you draw away, but you’re not unnerved by it. You’re firm and stable in your decisions, happy in the outcome, any hints of repercussions or doubts far, far away from you. In another world, in another galaxy. It has long forgotten your name and you’re glad for it.

“We shouldn’t do this.”

There he goes with ‘we’ again. It makes you weak.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” you say, soothingness coating your voice, penetrating his negative emotion to the point that he relaxes. Before he can say anything, you continue. “I heard what you said last night. To Yoongi. That this relationship is way bigger and deeper.” Surprise and timidity bleeds into the glitter on his face and he’s unable to look you in the eye. You grab his palm, holding it with both of your hands in your lap. “I agree with you. I feel it, too. This wasn’t just a one time thing. I don’t think it was ever meant to be just for one night.”

There’s rawness to your words that make him reciprocate your eye contact. He gnaws at his lips, as if to eat away his nerves. You squeeze his hand harder and are about to continue, but the creak on the hardwood floors stops you.

Yoongi. With his wrinkled face and puffy, but awake eyes. In a pair of boxers and nothing else. You stand up to your feet, dropping Jungkook’s hand, and you go to meet him halfway, but you don’t make it far. The soreness between your legs won’t let you.

He grins at you, wrapping his arms around you. “Can’t walk?” His taunt is loving and scrunch your face at him. “Good morning, honey.”

You kiss his bare chest. “Good morning.”

Yoongi moves over to Jungkook and places a hand on his shoulder. “Sleep well?”

Wet softness in his eyes. “The best sleep of my life.”

“So, I want two boyfriends.”

While Yoongi made coffee for all three of you, you were more than happy to make breakfast. Scrambled eggs on avocado toast—one that Jungkook chokes on upon hearing your words and one that flings out of Yoongi’s mouth because he bursts into a violent laughter.

You laugh along with him—so hard that tears well in your eyes, slapping your palm down repeatedly on the round wooden table. Yoongi mirrors your movement on Jungkook’s back as he fights for his life, red in the face, eyes wide.

“What did you say?” the puppy croaks out, bewildered, letting go of his bread and you feel terribly bad for him, for shocking him so enormously.

The decision came upon you suddenly while you cooked. Easy, smooth. Appeared on your heart that sprang it up to your mind. Gave it pros and cons—good friendship, good sex, good time; Yoongi might get jealous and/or possessive, nothing else. It made sense to you, grazed your attachment ever so sweetly. How else would you keep last night continuous? Even Yoongi went around the matter when he talked Jungkook’s head off, asking him if he’d been with other people after you.

Boyfriend simply means that. No other people—just you and Yoongi.

You weren’t going to keep it to yourself. Even if there was a risk of it going downhill.

It’s not relief that you feel upon hearing Yoongi laugh—it’s a river of liberation, concocted with absolute joy, coursing in your bloodstream. He woke up in a good mood. Woke up happy. And you fold that fact into your heart, hoping it stays for a long time.

“Eat your toast, silly,” you say, smiling, eyes crinkled. Take a bite of your own. Happy that Yoongi is happy, happy that you’re eating your favorite fruit, sitting again at the table with your two favorite people. “You heard me.”

“Oh, fuck,” is all Jungkook says, whisking his eyes to Yoongi, who’s chuckling, bending down to pick up the piece of toast he was in the middle of chewing.

You look at him, too, waiting for his response.

Yoongi brushes his hair back, a lazy smile on his mouth. “I think it’s a fantastic idea.”

You grin so hard that your cheeks hurt. The river in you speeds its stream. “Thank you,” you exclaim, rubbing his arm, quivering with excitement. “I say we mess around and have a good time. We can go on dates.”

Jungkook relaxes a little bit, furrowing his brows as he chews on his toast.

“She wanted two cocks, don’t tell me you didn’t expect this,” Yoongi says to his friend, patting your thigh. “I did.”

Perhaps that’s why he had such a hard time in all of this. He knew it was inevitable—and he worked his way through it until he ended here. Fine with it. Healed.

“When did that happen?” you ask, sliding your hand down to his.

“When I decided the first time I was gonna give it to you. Then, again when I promised you we were gonna make this work,” he says and you pout at him, so grateful, so touched. He squeezes your thigh, looking at Jungkook. “I can see your questions all over your face. Out with them.”

Jungkook has finished his toast, brows still furrowed as he swallows. He leans back in his chair, manspreading, hands intertwining behind his head. Pokes a tongue in his cheek, smirking. “Don’t kill me for this, but,” he starts, showing his teeth. “Do I get to have her to myself? Without you? And vice versa?”

Your heart beats ferociously in your chest. Yoongi pauses for a moment, thinking about it. He let him do it last night, he let him have you to himself, though under different circumstances. You figure what Jungkook meant is whether he can fuck you without asking for permission and the idea exhilarates you.

And the vice versa part. Jungkook is one sly—

“It won’t be instant, but we’ll work hard. Work our way through it until we’re all comfortable and happy,” Yoongi finally says and you kiss his hand.

You’re so overwhelmed with joy that your blood buzzes.

Jungkook nods. “Of course, I understand.”

“Is this something you want?” Yoongi directs the question at you and you nod.

“Yes, once you’re ready.”

Silence settles like fine dust. You finish your toast quietly and as soon as you’re done, you deem Yoongi should know about what happened in the late hours. “We didn’t fuck last night. While you slept. It didn’t even cross my mind and I wouldn’t do it unless I had your… blessing.”

Yoongi cackles at your choice of word. “Good girl,” he praises. “You’ll get your blessing soon. I promise.”

You look at him for a long time and you wonder if there’s anything he wouldn’t do for you.

“So, it’s settled, then,” Jungkook says and places a hand on the table, opens it for you. You grab it and he squeezes you. “Let’s celebrate.”

BACK to masterlist / READ part one, READ part two, READ part three

#jungkook x oc #yoongi smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot #yoongi x oc #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine

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katiemcabeswife · 3 months

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Can we get a part 2 for selflessness where Leah and yn adopt v and her sister? Please I absolutely loved your work

Princess Spider-man (Leah Williamson x FosterMum!Reader)

Selflessness Pt.2, you get to adopt your now daughters and to avoid an unnecessary tantrum, Vienna gets to be adopted as Princess Spiderman + Leah takes you on a date and takes your breath away.

i cried writing this 🤪

You had Lilah sitting in the sink so she couldn't wriggle around while you were doing her hair when you heard the slapping of little feet running along the hardwood floors, "No running on the hard floors V! C'mon we've talked about this," Leah yelled out to the 5-year-old in exasperation.

You turned to the door, making sure to keep a hold of Lilah, when you saw Vienna pop around the corner, "Oh!" You said surprised.

"Mummy, I princess spiderman!" Today was the day you and Leah were officially going to adopt Vienna and Lilah. After a month of them staying with you the chances of their Dad regaining custody of the girls were slim to none and both of them had formed a strong relationship with not only yourself but Leah as well.

Your heart still warmed when either girl called you Mummy, the night Vienna had called out to you using Mummy you hadn't fully registered it until the second time. That night you cried to Leah about it and it was also that night that you knew you had to adopt the girls. It wasn't long until Lilah had caught on and started calling you Mummy as well and it was only a short period of time after that, that the both of them started calling Leah Mama.

When going through the necessary classes and checks required for adoption, which Leah participated in as well, you and Leah had decided that it was in the best interest of the girls if she moved in with you. Logistically it was a great idea, Leah spent almost all of her time at your house anyway and it was bigger than hers. The night after the conversation was held, Leah was moved in by the girls' bedtime.

You looked up at Leah who was now behind Vienna with her hands on her shoulders. She gave you a guilty look and shrugged. You smiled widely at the 5-year-old, " You most certainly are! And aren't you just beautiful? Are we sure we're going to wear that today?" You tried to get her to change her mind but she had taken on Leah's stubbornness in the month you had all been living together.

Vienna crossed her arms, "Yes! Mama said I had to wear my best outfit and this is my best outfit," She answered as if it was common knowledge.

You nodded in agreement knowing that arguing with her would only end in a tantrum, "Alrighty then! Now, do you want me to do your hair or do you want Mama to do your hair?" You asked as you finished up Lilah's hair and hoisted her on your hip.

Vienna tapped her chin for a moment, "Mummy!" She shot her hands into the air to be lifted onto the sink. You gave Lilah to Leah with a kiss on both of their cheeks before lifting V onto the bathroom bench.

Leah wandered off to finish getting herself ready, taking Lilah with her, "Alright Princess Spiderman are going to do a braid or piggies or bunnies today?" You had found that while Vienna was going through an independent stage, offering different options was the easiest and quickest way to get something done.

She pondered the question for a moment before perking up, "Braid, please!"

"Coming your way, Princess Spiderman!" You took off her mask and tiara and she began to sing as you were braiding her hair. Though when she got quiet you got a little worried, "What you thinking 'bout, V?" You finished tying off the braid and hugged her from behind, looking at her in the mirror.

"Is Mama adpating me and Lyly as well?" You smiled at her mispronunciation.

You shook your head slightly with a small smile on your face, "No she isn't but that doesn't mean that she isn't still gonna be your Mama. Is that ok?"

Vienna shrugged and looked down so you heaved her out of the sink and sat her on the edge of the counter facing you, "I want Mama as well," She mumbled into her chest and you guided her chin up gently.

"Mama and I loved you so much, yeah?" You asked and she meekly nodded her head, "But because Mummy has been taking care of you a bit longer than Mama, only Mummy can adopt you right now. But really, today isn't going to change much, you and Lilah are just going to have my last name and you're definitely going to live with me forever, and ever and ever," You tickled her belly and smiled widely when she laughed, "And hopefully, soon Mama will give me a ring and then she can adopt you and Lilah as well!" Vienna perked up at this and clapped.

"Mama give you a ring now?" She asked hopefully.

You lifted her off the bench and placed her on the floor, "I don't think so, V. Not yet, maybe soon," You guided her back to her bedroom, making sure to grab her mask and tiara. You missed Leah standing at the opposite end of the hallway, having heard the entire conversation, with a smile on her face.

You had walked into the living room in a long white sundress with little blue flowers and fancy heels when you saw Leah in her suit. She was wearing a grey suit with a black bodysuit and she had Lilah on her lap wearing a pink dress with white and blue tassels at the top, "Don't you two look beautiful," You announced yourself to the pair.

"I could say the same for you, my love," She rose from the couch and brought you into a hug before kissing you on the lips.

"What about Vienna?" The 5-year-old asked as she came out of her room, now wearing pink plastic heels.

Leah handed you Lilah and you gave her a quick peck and hugged her into your body, "Wow, darling you look gorgeous! Did you pick that outfit out all by yourself?" Leah questioned.

Vienna spun in a circle at the compliment and curtseyed, "Why yes I did, thank you very much," She ran up to Leah and gave her a big kiss.

Leah lifted her onto her hip and spun around making Vienna laugh, "My beautiful Princess Spiderman," She joked looking towards you as you shook your head in amusement.

V looked at her in judgment, "Umm, I'm not yours yet because you haven't given Mummy a ring," She crossed her arms and Leah looked at you.

You just shrugged your shoulders and picked up your bag and Lilah's baby bag, "Ready to go guys?" You asked ignoring the previous conversation.

"Yes!" Lilah cheered and you cheered back to her.

"Come on V," You held your hand out for the girl who took it excitedly, "Lock up would you please, love?" You smiled cheekily before taking the girls out to the car and getting them situated in their seats.

Once Leah was finished locking up she joined you in the car and quickly turned it on before driving off. She distracted Vienna with her favourite songs before she turned to you, "So you were talking to V about me getting you a ring, yeah?" She asked and rubbed her hand along your thigh.

"Oh, it may have been mentioned in passing. I think I prefer circle-cut diamonds actually," You teased.

"Alright then, I'll get onto that," She turned to look at your shocked face before laughing and turning back to the road and singing along with Vienna to Adele.

When you arrived at the courthouse you quickly briefed both the girls on what was going to happen. Vienna and Lilah had both been very attentive during this talk and seemed to actually be taking in the information you were telling them but as soon as you walked through the doors and saw all Leah’s teammates hanging around, they both squealed, Vienna ran off to Katie and Lilah was flapping her arms in demand to be let down. Once you had put Lilah on her feet she began to toddle over to Vivi.

“Oh my word, is that Princess Spider-man?” Katie exclaimed as she saw Vienna running over to her. When V reached her Katie threw her up in the air, caught her (thankfully) and began to tickle her tummy making the young girl fall into hysterics.

Viv had begun to make her way to where Lilah was waddling, cutting her walk short, and lifted her onto her hip, “Hello, little one,” She greeted. Lilah had been interested in Viv ever since she first met the woman, her calm composure matching her own.

Leah wrapped her arm around your shoulders as you smiled at your girls getting along with Leah’s (and now your) closest friends. You and Leah walked over to where both of your parents were standing and greeted them with warm hugs and hello’s.

Your mum took your cheeks between her hands and her eyes began to tear up, “Oh my little girl is getting so big now,” You shook your head and hit your lip.

“Don’t-” You pointed your finger at her threatening, “Don’t you dare make me cry right now,” Your mum laughed and brought you into a hug.

A set of large doors opened and a woman in a sharp suit and slick hair called out, “Vienna and Lilah Hansen, case 1747, the courthouse is now open and the session will begin in 5 minutes,” I have no idea how court or adoption works…

Leah squeezed your hand tightly and gave you a short passionate kiss before you walked over and grabbed Lilah out of Viv's arms and held Vienna’s hand. You walked to the front of the room where you met your co-worker and the girls’ social worker, Amelia, and greeted her and queued Vienna too as well but she moved to hide behind your legs.

The judge who seemed to be a friendly old man walked into the room and when he spotted Vienna he walked over and bent over, “Is that Spider-Man I see?” He questioned.

Vienna poked her head out from behind you and you gently guided her out with a hand on her back, “I princess spider-man,” She said sheepishly.

The judge straightened, “How could I be so silly,” He held his hand out to shake hers, “Welcome Your Highness, thank you for being a hero,” Vienna shook his hand with a giggle and when she looked at you, you smiled and gasped in wow.

“I’m y/n,” You reached out to shake his hand which he took gently.

“Pleasure to meet you, let’s get this started shall we?” You nodded and took a deep breath before setting the girls with Amelia before heading to the opposite side of the room.

After going through all of the legal crap and a few tears (a lot more than a few) you were up the front of the room in front of the judge's bench, surrounded by friends and family, holding your girls in your arms, wrapped in the arms of the woman you love, smiling for a photo that will forever hang proudly in your entryway for everyone to see.

Everyone had followed you home and there was now a small party being hosted in your house which consisted of half the girls outside playing a mini-game of football with Vienna accompanied by yours and Leah's dads, the other half of the girls sitting in the playroom playing FIFA except for Beth who was helping Lilah cook up a storm in the play kitchen and lastly Leah, you and your mothers were cooking up an actual storm in the real kitchen.

"Leah you have to eat real food, you can't just have potato smilies!' You laughed at Leah's grossed-out face.

"It all looks lovely but I just, I don't like it," The grown woman complained.

Amanda shook her head at her daughter, "Come on now Leah you're starting to sound like Vienna," You and your mother joined in laughing.

Leah dropped her jaw in offence, "I do not," She whined before straightening, hearing how whining and childlike she sounded.

There was a range of food either in the process of being cooked, ready to be cooked or cooling down that ranged from fresh scones (your mother's tradition) to beans with everything in between, even potato smilies.

"At least try something new, Lee," You begged.

Leah looked at you in displeasure, "Maybe," She mumbled when she buried her head into your back.

You moved to stir the mash which Leah had been working on, "Leah why on earth is this so watery?" You questioned.

"I don't know I just followed the recipe, 5 pounds of potatoes, 2 cloves of garlic, 12 cups of milk-" You cut her off with a gasp.

"Oh my god, Leah 1/2 a cup of milk, not 12 cups! That's why we don't have any milk left!" Everyone in the kitchen laughed at Leah's mistake while she stood there scratching the back of her neck, "Right, you pop off to the corner shop and pick up some more milk and potatoes and when you get back you can go off and play with the kiddies alright?" You ordered jokingly.

"Okay," She pulled you into a hug which you reciprocated immediately, "Sorry, love," She mumbled sheepishly.

You patted her on the back before moving her off, "Don't worry about it, now off you go!" You smacked her bum when she turned to leave.

Just after Leah left Kyra ran into the kitchen looking red in the face, "Where's Leah, we need another defender, Katie's being a child," She puffed out.

"Am not!" You heard the Irish woman yell from the backyard.

The day was spent talking and laughing surrounded by your friends and family and when the day was finally coming to a close only a few of the girls were left and both sets of parents had gone home. Vienna was lying sleepily on Katie's chest and Lilah was knocked out on Viv's, you were wrapped in Leah's arms and the day could not have gone better.

2 months later...

"Alright, so everything they need is in their bags and they have both just been fed and napped so they are full of energy for you guys!" You and Leah were going on a date on her day off and you were dropping the girls off to hang out with Viv and Beth for the day. You bent down to Vienna's level, "OK sweetie, behave and be nice, please do as they ask and no be cheeky," You teased and tickled her belly before placing a kiss on her forehead, repeating the action to Lilah who sat contently in Viv's arms, "Goodbye my little chickens," You waved. Leah repeated your actions and gave Vienna a fist bump after whispering in her ear which made the girl giggle.

"Bye guys, thank you so much," You waved to Beth and Viv as you walked towards the car. You buckled yourself in before taking a deep breath and sighing, "I hate leaving them," You pouted at thinking about not being within arms reach of your daughters.

Leah moved her hand to your thigh and rubbed it comfortingly, "Well I'll try my best to make it worth your time then, yeah?" She said jokingly.

You laughed lightly, "Hey, I didn't mean it like that. I love spending time with you, you make every second worthwhile," You picked up her hand from your thigh and gave it a dramatic kiss.

Leah smiled over at you, "Aw you big sap," She followed with a laugh when you pathetically punched her.

"Lilah wouldn't be making fun of me right now," You proclaimed and crossed your arms.

Leah waved her hand in exasperation, "Yeah because she can barely talk, Vienna on the other hand would be making fun of you," She smirked at you.

Your jaw dropped, "Only because you've corrupted my sweet little angel," You placed your conjoined hands over your heart theatrically.

"Oh hunny, she has always been a cheeky little devil," You had to agree with her. Even before the girls had met Leah Vienna had a habit of getting up to mischief.

You both sat in silence as the speakers played your shared playlist mainly consisting of Adele and Taylor Swift until you perked at a sudden thought, "Where are we going?" Not recognising the area you were now in.

Leah smiled over at you cheekily which was almost analogous to Vienna's when she was up to no good, "It's a surprise," She sang and shook your hands slightly.

After half an hour of driving and singing you arrived at an open field covered in lush green grass and as you looked to your left you saw a small pond littered with lily pads and surrounded by bushes.

You looked around and noticed lines of rose bushes and other flowers scattered around the field, "Leah this is... gorgeous!" You said in awe.

"Not more gorgeous than you," She flirted and when you looked back at her she had her head rested against the seat and hearts in her eyes, you couldn't help yourself and quickly pulled her into a deep kiss.

"I love you," You smiled against her mouth as you separated from the kiss.

She pecked your lips once more before you could pull away, "I love you more," She smiled dreamily.

"Impossible," You muttered looking at her in admiration.

After spending a few more minutes looking into each other's eyes and making out you had made it outside and onto the field, Leah had set up a picnic for the two of you and your heart could not be more full.

You helped Leah set out the picnic blanket but left the food in the basket as you begged her to take you on a walk to the pond. She 'begrudgingly' agreed and you held hands while you walked around the stunning water, pointing out the fishes you saw swimming merrily. You were so entranced by the small fishes that you hadn't seen Leah taking multiple photos of you.

Once Leah had complained of being hungry you let her lead you back to the blanket and she pulled out the 'feast' she had bought. The meal contained ham sandwiches (her favourite), scones (courtesy of your mother) and sausage rolls (your favourite) which she had even gone through the effort of putting into an esky bag to keep them warm.

You snacked on the food while lying in the arms of your lover and talked about nothing and everything all at once. You set up the blanket near the roses and once you had moved to retrieve another sausage roll you noticed how beautiful your girlfriend was and couldn't help but take a photo of her in all her glory.

"Oi cheeky, no wonder where V gets it from," She teased.

"That's all you, baby," You held her chin and pulled her into a soft kiss

Once the kiss broke Leah looked behind you before shuffing around "Is that a goose over there? By the pond?" She pointed over towards the pond and you instantly got to your feet wanting to get a look at the goose.

"Leah, are you hallucinating? I can't see any-" You cut yourself off as you turned around and saw Leah on one knee holding an open box in her hands, "Oh you cheeky little shit," You reprimanded before cupping your mouth with your hands.

Leah laughed at your reaction and cleared her throat, "Y/N, ever since I met you in that Tesco's covered in tears and snot with a beautiful bird's nest on your head, I knew that I wanted to be with you. I wanted to love you and hold you and I knew that wanted to grow old with you." You were both crying and Leah was now holding one of your hands in hers, "I really wasn't supposed to be eating those Oreos and you probably saved me a grilling from Kim, so thank you for that. I remember how scared you were when you first brought V and Lil to one of my games and how I would react and I want you to know that I was never mad or angry I was actually enamoured at how beautiful you looked with two children on your hips and how effortless you made looking after them look." You had fallen onto your knees and Leah's hand was now gently wiping the tears away from your cheeks, "I want to thank you so much for letting me into their lives and your home and letting me help raise them and I'm so thankful that you let me hang out with your daughters cause they are seriously the coolest kids around. I'm serious-" You both laughed at the proclamation, "I can tell you with no doubt that I'd rather hang out with you and them than anyone else in the world and I would be the happiest woman in the world. I want to help you raise your girls to be powerful, strong women and I want to grow old with you. So, y/n y/m/n/ y/l/n, would you marry me?" There were so many tears between the two of you that you weren't sure if she had seen you nod or if she could work out what you had said through the heavy presence of tears in your throat but she had heard you crystal clear.

"Of course I will you idiot,"

Leah lept up from the floor and tackled you into a hug. You went back and forth from hugging and kissing only taking a quick break for Leah to place the ring on your finger and for you to admire the beauty of it. Leah had also surprised you with a similar ring on her finger as she claimed, "It wasn't fair that only you got a nice ring," but you both knew that even if she had asked you to marry her at 3 in the morning covered in blood, sweat and tears, you would have said yes.

You weren't sure how long you had been hugging Leah for and you also weren't sure if you were ever going to let go. You didn't believe you would have if it weren't for a sudden loud screech, "MUMMY!"

You abruptly pulled apart from Leah and held her shoulders between your hands, "You didn't..." Leah just smiled and nodded before pulling you into another passionate kiss.

The kiss was broken when a pair of arms wrapped around your legs, "Did Mama give you the ring?" She asked jumping on the spot in excitement.

You lifted her up into the air and laughed with your daughter, "She did sweetie! Did you put her up to this?" You tickled her belly when she was stationary on your hip.

Vienna nodded excitedly, "Yup!" She turned to look behind you, "And look!" When you turned around you saw Lilah waddling over as fast as she could and Leah quickly went to pick her up. You looked further back and saw Viv and Beth standing with what looked like a professional photographer and as you looked for an extra minute you could see Viv consoling a sobbing Beth.

"You cheeky little devils," You looked between Leah and Vienna before wandering over to Lilah and squished her cheeks gently, "And the little mastermind behind it all," You said jokingly which made all three of your girls laugh.

Vienna wriggled out of your arms and tugged Leah's shorts to get her to bend down and whispered in her ear, "Does this mean you can adapt me and Lily now?" Leah let out a wet laugh, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"Is that what you'd like V?" She asked genuinely.

Vienna jumped up and down and screamed 'yes!' over and over again. Leah handed you Lilah who instantly rested her head against your chest and you kissed her head on instinct while you watched Leah reach into her bag. When she pulled out a photo frame you smiled widely and hid it behind Lilah's head.

Leah got down onto one knee again and presented Vienna with the certificate of adoption, "I think that is a lovely idea," Leah choked out with tears streaming down her face. Vienna jumped into Leah's arms and wrapped her arms around her neck. Leah stood up, keeping a tight grip on V, and looked over to you where you had tears running down your cheeks and Lilah was wiping them away. She watched through clouded eyes as you grabbed Lilah's hands and kissed them making the toddler let out a belly laugh.

You stepped over the photo frame which now lay discarded on the floor and wrapped Leah into a hug that held such pure emotions, happy tears and happy laughter. You were content as you and Leah held your girls in your arms and tightly held onto each other's hands.

yourusername

liked by leahwilliamsonn and others

yourusername my girls... and a little surprise from the big one 💍

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leahwilliamsonn only a little one 😕

yourusername i love you ❤️❤️

alexscott2 no one deserves this more than you two love birds 🤍

leahw6fan NO WAY! SHE TOOK MY WOMAN

williamson06 be fr rn...

kimkardashian congratulations 🙌

yourusername thank you!!

arsenal06 ariana what are you doing here?

leahwilliamsonn

liked by yourusername and others

leahwilliamsonn my love for you can not be put into words but the least I can do is applaud you for being the best mother out there and thank you tremendously for letting me help you raise the most perfect little girls and letting me love you with everything I have, I love you to the moon and back, and a million more times 💞

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yourusername stop it I'm going to cry again ❤️

leahwilliamsonn do it ❤️

bethmead_ you're going to make me cry again!!

katie_mccabe11 beautiful family

arsenalrnumber1 i love them

mbaker1971 proud of all my girls ❤️❤️

#woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal wfc #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson

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flamingpudding · 6 months

Text

Fictober23 Prompt: 20 - "This better be good."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A green Vortex swirled in front of them and Constantine held his breath. This was not like any of the summonses he usually did. He looked over his shoulder at the others present, wondering if he could somehow bullshit his way out of this. But one thing was clear, whatever he had summoned was not one of his demons.

The Vortex continued to swirl before them, slowly greenish smoke started to rise out of him. Then suddenly a melody started to echo around them and Constantine felt like face palming.

"Uh… isn't this the Melody of This is Halloween?" The Flash asked aloud, exchanging glances with the others present.

"Constantine." Great Bats was getting grumpy, the JL Dark member thought, refusing to turn around to face any of the heroes. Ignoring them might make them stop questioning what was happening with this summon. It wasn't like there were any pressing situations, forcing this summon in hopes to prevent whatever interdimensional war Trigon was about to start. No, they hadn't forced him out and away from the curse he had been working on. Not like there were other members of the JL Dark, Constantine clearly knew the big bad Bat liked to work more with than him.

Humming resounded from the vortex now too, clearly depicting the chorus of the well known Halloween song, and John's eye twitched. The fuck kinda demon spirit did he summon now? Was whatever he summoned making fun of him just because that being got summoned in October? The rising smoke started to move, taking on a shape that appeared more humanoid as the humming started to become clearer though it sounded like it was filtered through static as it still sounded somewhat distorted.

"Shadow is the one hiding under your bed, teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing green! Spectra is the one hiding under your stairs, fingers like snakes and spiders in her hair."

The voice echoed sounding like a mix of static and white noise but became clearer the more or the green smoke escaped from the vortex. None of them really knew what was going on and Constantine was cursing up a storm in his mind. What the hell was happening right now, he just wanted to get the Spirit of Balance to help them out with Trigon? They were supposed to symbolize balance, surely they would have the easiest time to fix that imbalance the demon was about to wreck across dimensions.

"In this zone we call home, everyone hails to the ghost-like song! In this zone, don't we love it now? Clockworks' waiting for the next surprise!" The smoke was twirling around and moving like they were picking something up from inside the vortex, its shape still smokey but slowly Constantine was able to make out certain shapes of the head and arms as the voice continued to hum and then sing the static was more and more receding.

"Freakshow is the clown with the thermos to his face, sucked up in a flash and gone without a trace. I am the who when you call, 'Who's there?'. Dani is the wind blowing through your hair. Dan is the shadow on the moon at night, Frighty filling your dreams to the brim with fright!" The voice was now very clear, no interference, the smoke had fully formed a human-like body and appeared to be a white haired teen boy, though John noted, his summon was turned with his back to them appearing not to notice him or the heroes in the room and holding… Was that a Halloween party garland?

"This is Halloween, this is Hallo- who the fuck are you guys?" Mid lyrics the kid appeared to have turned around his arms raised like he was going to hang the garland of cut out pumpkins on a wall. White green eyes stared at them before the summoned eyes went to the garland in his hands that were then quickly hidden behind the teens back.

"Spirit of balance-"

"It's Ancient actually."

The spirit, ancient, cut in and Constantine hurried to correct his mistake. "Ancient of balance, we are the Justice League and have summoned you to seek your help…" Constantine started his usual spiel, ignoring Green Lantern's mutter of if that kid really was the spirit of balance as well as the judging looks and burning glare he felt on his back from Batman. He was not going over with them again about the fact that demon, spirits, ghost and the likes can look like whatever the fuck they wanted.

"Okay, stop!" The summoned teen held up a hand before John could continue. "I was in the middle of an important Halloween themed stabilization party preparation! To finally celebrate Dan after Dani pestered him for months! So this better be good, to get in the way of my first fight free weekend in years!"

"A war with demons is about to start." Constantine's head whipped around to glare at Batman, does he need to hold another course of how to properly communicate with interdimensional beings?

"That's Demon Realm Issues, not Ghost related. Could you humans stop mixing us up? I am not even from the same dimension as them and we have enough troubles with them breaching the Ghost Zone borders every month!" The summoned teen arched an eyebrow at them, crossing his arms and bringing that damned Halloween garland back into view again. They clearly didn't want to be here and if Constantine knew anything about unwilling summons then one wrong world could screw them all over right now.

"Trigon is the one starting it." Batman added and once more the JL Dark member sent the Dark knight a seething glare. That hypocrite put him through a lecture about hero behavior and cautions before, John would return the favor once the crisis was handled.

"Trigon?" His head whipped around to look at the suddenly very interested ancient of balance floating over to Batman.

"What did that big toddler do now?" It appeared like the Ancient was talking to themselves more than them as he crossed his arms completely forgetting about the wall decoration in his hands as they tilted their head in thoughts and started to ignore them. They were mumbling something John couldn't hear, for once he wished Superman was around so he could tell them with his super hearing.

"I have no idea who you guys are but, fine! I will help but only because Dan mentioned wanting to fight that overgrown toddler again. That's going to be his stabilizing day present! He can't complain this way that I got him something lame."

Constantine was about to sigh a breath of relief until he noticed the Ancient of Balance opening a good damn vortex and pulling out a snarling, red glowing eyed and blue flamed haired spirit by the neck. He paled then realizing that the being of balance just pulled the Spirit er Ancient of Wrath into their dimension. John then also noticed what appeared to be a little girl hanging like a koala of Wrath's back and then remembered a passage in the summoning text of the Spirit of Balance, he apparently had carelessly ignored.

Summoning Balance, Wrath and Mischief always stuck together. Sweating heavily, Constntine ignored any and all looks sent his way, because he was sure he might have just doomed their Dimension or at least plunged them into chaos for the time being.

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briefalpacashark · 10 months

Text

MILES 42 Spoils you

Warnings: None.

(Dont know who the artist it but props to them. Amazing stuff)

Miles loves to spoil me. He's got plenty of money, thanks to the buyer's market for fancy gadgets and Miles' insanely smart brain, and a few choice investments. Money was no longer a problem for him. He had paid off his mothers mortgage and the only reason why Rio still worked was because she respected her own independence.

The gift giving started off slow. The appreciation I showed fuelled his desire to gift me anything and everything.

I started catching onto his antics and shut it down.

“You like that one Mami?” I felt Mies place his hands on my hips from behind as he peeked over my head at the small stuffed animal on display in a window.

“No,” I flatly refused, going to step away only for him to hold on tighter pulling me back. Miles was stronger than me by a long shot. So my attempt to escape was easily foiled. I could see his smirk in the reflection as he moved to encase my body in his arms resting his chin on the top of my head.

“The green or the blue?” he asked.

“Neither,” I muttered.

“Come on Mami, Which one?” he asked, dropping his head to my shoulder.

“I was just looking at the cute cashier,” I stated without thinking.

“Who the old lady?” he asked with a smirk. Looking at the cashier, I grimace slightly.

“Come on Mi Amor,” he coaxed his lips, finding himself a sweet little spot on my neck.

“Nope,” I popped the p.

“Mi vida, Hermosa, Mi Alma, Mi Amada, Cariño, Mi Reina, Bebe,” with each pet name his gentle pecks got more intimate. Trailing down my neck and sending my cheeks a flame. Finding my sweet spot rather easily my eyes widened as he started to suck on it, fully intent on forming a hickey. Pushing the pleasant shiver it sent though my body I cleared my throat.

“Fine!” I suddenly declared. He smirked giving the spot one last peck before straightening up.

“The blue,” I muttered trying to fix my hair pretending that the kisses had not affected me in the slightest.

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Staring at the blue teddy on our bed I huffed in defeat.

Yet as I started to shut down his habit he found ways of literally forcing me to accept it. Whether it be teasing me to the point of acceptance or just flat out ignoring me as he bought the item. The honeymoon period of him actually listening to me diminished in less than a month. Hell I had even tried returning items, Miles caught on and started refusing the receipts when he purchased stuff.

So I made it my mission to not go shopping with him anymore. I succeeded mostly yet sometimes he would still pop up.

It was working to an extent.

Until one day when we went to watch a live performance in the park with Jessica, my best friend and Shiro. I guess you could call him Miles' best friend. The performance was canceled last minute so Jessica decided that we should go shopping. I tried to refuse but Jessica was like Miles in a way. Wouldn't take no for an answer. So there we were walking through a clothing shop. Miles hung closer to me watching and waiting for any reaction I would have. Any slight hint that I liked something and his card was out. Luckily for me I had been practicing the art of deception. The whole time I kept a millstone smile on my face. Miles hated it.

“You're not fooling me with that smile,” he whispered into my ear.

“Oh really? Well I wonder why your cards are nice and snug in that wallet that hasn't left your pocket,” I stated smugly, giving him a wink before turning back to Jessica that held a shirt to her chest asking for my opinion.

“What's up with him?” Jessica asked, nodding to Miles who now wore a slight frown, more than usual.

“I won't let him buy me anything,” I muttered.

“I'm sorry. You're not letting him buy you stuff? Are you sick?” she asked, reaching for my forehead pretending to check my temperature.

“He gets me too much stuff,” I muttered with a small smile pushing her hand away as we walked to the other rack leaving a moody Miles behind.

“And that's a problem, how?” she asked. “You have a sugar daddy and you're not using him,” she tisked going back to looking at things. I hated the feeling that settled in my gut at her words. I know she was just joking but it still hit me deep.

“Hey Mami, we're gonna go check out some things I'll be back,” Miles muttered, gently tapping the side of my hip as he stepped up behind me.

“Ok, meet you at the food court?” I suggested.

“In an hour?” he asked. I nodded and waved him off.

“Now that they're gone we can actually do some shopping,” Jessica said wagging her eyebrows. She dragged me straight towards Victoria's secret. I wasn't gonna lie, I had a good time. Trying things on. Looked at everything that caught my eye without the worry that Miles was gonna buy it. I even bought a nice jacket for Miles. Seeing him sitting down I walked up behind him reaching around to cover his eyes with one hand.

“Hands out,” I demanded with a smile. Miles put his phone down holding his hand out. Placing the bag in his hand I pulled my hand back wrapping my arms around his neck as he opened it.

“What's this for?” he asked holding the jacket up.

“What can't I spoil my man?” I asked, giving his cheek a quick peck before sitting down next to him. He chuckled lowly at my words absolutely loving how I called him ‘my man’

The next day I got back from work walking into our apartment.

“Miles, I’m home,” I called out rounding the kitchen and stopping upon seeing a pile of bags on the dinner table.

“Hey mami,” he called from the couch, keeping his eyes on the television.

“Miles,” I sighed, already knowing what was in those bags.

“I really don't see what the big deal is,” he shrugged, already knowing what my sigh was for.

“Miles,” my tone was more serious now, it snapped slightly and my anger appeared. Miles' head tilted to the side slightly at it. I rarely held this tone. But I had had enough. It was getting out of hand. Miles and I rearly fought. And our fights were mostly me ranting and Miles using a calm tone as he listened.

“What's that tone for?” he asked.

“You know what it's for,” I snapped, chucking my bag on the table looking over it all. Hearing the TV shut off I refused to turn around as he approached me.

“Mami,” he whispered.

“Don't Miles, I'm mad at you right now,” I shook my head walking away from him.

“Babe, come on,” he sighed.

“No Miles, you just don't listen, do you know how frustrating that is?” I ranted ripping my scarf off.

“It's not like you listen to me all the time,” he shrugged, leaning against the door frame of our room. My head snapped to him in a glare that had him sighing again.

“What's got you so wound up. Huh?” he asked softly. That stupid soft understanding tone. That one that held no anger. That's why I hated arguing with him. He never got angry. Never. Frustrated maybe.

“Jessica called you my sugar daddy,” I whispered under my breath, kicking off my shoes.

“Sugar Daddy. Well I like the sound of that,” he mused with a small smirk.

“Miles,” I huffed.

“Aight aight. Lo siento,” he held his hands up in defense.

“So am I gonna have to pry what's bothering you out of ya or?” he trailed off.

“I don't want you to think I'm with you just because of your money. I don't like it, it's so fucken stupid and it makes me feel sick,” I continued to rant moving about the room.

“Mami, hey hey, come er,” he walked forward gently grabbing me, pulling me out of my pacing. His hands rubbed up and down my upper arms as he whispered to me in spanish trying to calm me down.

“Why would you ever think that?” he asked with a frown.

“It's not just me. Other people say it,” I muttered.

“Did those other people know that you were with me when I had a whole total of two dollars to my name. Where my idea of an expensive date was a trip down to the seven eleven and a push bike ride to the lookout?” he asked reminiscing on when we had first gotten together.

“Well no,” I muttered.

“And do they know that you work an honest job and against my wishes pay for your own things. That you pay for what you think is half the rent when really I already bought the apartment and put that money into a savings account that I would have told you about when we had our first kid so you wouldn't stress about buying stuff for em?” my eyes widened slightly at Miles casually mention of not only lying to me about the rent but the talk of a kid. I should be really angry at him for lying to me. But all that was running through my head was a kid.

“You want kids?” I asked softly. We had never talked about kids before.

“Who wouldn't want a little you runnin round?” he asked with a small smirk. My chest flushed with warmth at the sincerity in his eyes.

“Why don't you?” he asked.

“Of course I wan- No wait. I'm getting distracted. You've been lying to me! MIlES!” I snapped.

“Mi amor you're angry, How about we calm down,” He suggested his arms moving to encompass me.

“No, I will not calm down,” I huffed trying to get out of his hold.

“Ok,” he shrugged before tipping us back, myself hitting the bed and him flopping down atop me.

“Miles!” I yelled trying to wiggled out from under him.

“Hum?” he hummed, not moving an inch.

“God you can be so frustrating,” I huffed, giving up on my struggle.

“I'll get up when you calm down,” he muttered simply. I gave one last shake before huffing again.

“You know I read somewhere that adults who can't accept people buying nice stuff for them is because when they were a kid their parents would say stuff was too expensive. Messed with the kids mind and made them think they aren't worthy of being gifted stuff,” Miles mumbled. Hearing that my mind instantly snapped back to when I was young. Money was tight growing up. My parents tried their best to shield it from me but I was smart enough. Seeing my parents so worried about paying rent, I guess it could have left a mark.

“Stop trying to be smart,” I huffed. Miles was smart. Crazy smart. As in genius einstein smart.

“You deserve the world Mami. And I'm the one that's gonna give it to ya,” he whispered softly.

“I don't need the word Miles. I only need you,” I whispered my arms moving around to hug him, my hand gripping the back of his shirt. Rolling us onto our sides he shifted me up so we were looking at each other.

“Who else am I gonna spend my money on huh? I send a bunch to charities. I look after my mum as much as she will let me. At least you let me buy you stuff,” he muttered.

“Let you?” I propped an eyebrow.

“Yes Mi Vida. You let me, even though you try not to,” he grinned. I sighed, shaking my head reaching up to grab his face.

“I love you Miles. I love YOU, Not your money. Not this apartment. I would love you if you had not one penny to your name. You know that right?” I asked. I wanted him to know it. I needed him to know. For a long time he simply stared at me. In his mind he wondered what he had done to deserve the love of such an amazing woman. He knew I didn't care whether or not he had money. But the main reason why he did what he did, why he sold his tech was to make a life free of such worries.

“I know,” he whispered, his own hand reaching up to cup my face. “ So let me spoil you. The whole reason I did it all was to make a life free of the worry of money. To make a good life for us,” he whispered honestly. I pressed my lips together. He had a point.

“Fine. but only once a month,” I huffed.

“Once a month?” he asked, pretending to be appalled.

“Fine once a week,” I muttered. He grinned, pulling me into a sweet kiss. I smiled, trailing my finger down his chin as he pulled back.

“Say, you busy this evening?” he asked.

“Why?” I asked.

So there I sat. On the handlebars of Miles' old push bike. In one hand I held a slushy. I wore the biggest smile on my face as we rode through the town, my hair gently billowing in the wind. Looking back I caught a glimpse of one of Miles' genius true smiles. A smile so wide and toothy that it showed his dimples.

“You wanna know something?” I asked, turning back to the front. He hummed, signaling for me to continue.

“This has got to be the best date yet,” I said.

“I guess it's alright,” he mused.

#miles molares #miles g morales #miles morales prowler #prowler miles #earth 42 #miles prowler #miles 42 #across the spiderverse #miles morales #into the spider verse #miles 42 x reader #earth 42 miles #milesxreader #miles42

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n3ptoonz · 5 months

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Hello! Can you write Baraka, Syzoth, Kenshi and Liu Kang reacting to an s/o who likes to trace their tattoos. (Also tattoos are hot)

hiya and i certainly can anon! (i fully agree. whenever i see THAT raiden skin i literally want to jump through a closed window)

mk1 hcs: how baraka, syzoth, kenshi, and liu kang react to their s/o tracing their tattoos

warnings: none; fluff

Baraka

Would be confused at first. He had lost most of his sense of humanity since his affliction, so he'd think you just got bored or wanted his attention

When you explained how his tats were interesting and wanted to know the reasons/origins of them, he was genuinely surprised. Nobody has ever asked him such a thing, let alone pay that much attention to him or his tattoos

Now he doesn't mind it and lets you do as you please. He purposely wears sleeveless shirts around you all the time just so you'll get the idea to trace his tats later

Syzoth

Since the first noticeable tattoo is on his face, he'd get startled the first time you did it. You were waiting for him to wake up one day and became interested in them suddenly

He'd ask what's so cool about tattoos in the first place since he's not originally human. It's not that he doesn't value them, but to him they are more important in the sense of they reminded him of his family (i made that shit up don't quote me), not necessarily "cool" and you had to explain you took interest in all the above

Now he fully welcomes it and would probably go as far as being around you more often to get you to notice and engage in some form of physical touch that ends up in tracing his tattoos

Kenshi Takahashi

I feel like sometimes he didn't like his own tats. Being a former Yakuza and all, he wouldn't get why you think they're cool. You tell him despite their origin they objectively look really cool and make him look even cooler/finer and now he's a happy camper

Whatever his thoughts were slowly vanished out of his own mind. Though he can't really see them anymore, he likes that someone he's in love with is for one not scared away by his past but also thinks they make him look cooler? After a while he'd start appreciating them himself

Also the type of man to walk around the house either shirtless or a tank top more often because "he gets hot easily" righttt righttttt. He loves the sensation of your touch on his body too. I'll never stop advocating for him appreciating other senses more post losing his sight!!!

Liu Kang

He has a lot of tats so like, he's going to think you're asking for a lil alone time wink which he doesn't oppose to but sometimes you simply just find interest in appreciating his ink

He will not shy away from telling you the origins and history behind each and every one. He'd even show you the ones he got for fun. He may be a god, but he was human first who lowkey liked to have as much fun as his comrade, Kung Lao, he was just better at hiding it

He now offers you to do it while you're cuddling or just chilling around each other; in reality he looks forward to it since he's never heard of such a fascinating with something like tattoos and it brought you two closer

a/n: i hope this was good enough! i've been writing so much lately just in general my brain is kinda mush ngl but i ain't no bitch! plus i gotta think more for smut so i went for fluff lol

#n3ptoonz #mk1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk baraka #reptile mk #syzoth #kenshi takahashi #liu kang mk1 #liu kang #baraka x reader #reptile x reader #syzoth x reader #kenshi takashi x reader #liu kang x reader #mk fluff #fluff

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 6 months

Text

Pairing : Dad!Lee Minho x F!Reader TW : none really ; reader isn't from Korea though ; 1 child ; fluff! ; Word Count : 1.2k Request : nope! A/N : still being extremely fluffy. Gonna call this the Snippets of Life mini series because I kind of want to do all the guys... I hope you are all still here. I missed you my amazing internet family!!

“You’re up late.” Minho commented as soon as he answered the facetime call from you, stifling his laughter when he saw you roll your eyes. “The little rascal hasn’t adjusted to the jet lag yet, has she?” He questioned when he heard the twinkling sound of his daughter laughing in the background.

As much as he tried to pretend to the guys that he was enjoying the little bit of time that he had to hang out with them and fully throw himself into his work while you were out of the country visiting your family, he missed you and his daughter dearly. “It’s 4 in the morning… I haven’t gotten a wink of sleep yet.” You groaned, dropping your head into the pillow and letting out a loud sigh. “She’s been looking for you non stop though, I think she misses you.”

Those words had Minhos heart swelling, and his fingers threatening to go online and buy the first ticket out of Korea so he could be there with you and his baby girl. “Where is she?” He asked, trying to look around the phone screen, as if moving his own head would give him a better view of the room you were in.

“She’s currently glued to the television screen…” You said, and he could hear how tired you were and he wished that he could help you, but he felt quite useless as a father and a fiance from behind the screen. “I had to put on a playlist of all of your fancams, she’s been watching them all day.”

He never would have thought that his daughter would miss him so much. From the moment she was born she was practically glued to your hip, but to hear that she missed him so much had his eyes glossing over with tears. He never thought he’d miss the two of you so much either. “Maybe I can talk to her… You can let her hold the phone while you get some rest?” He offered, and at this point you were willing to try anything.

“Mimi honey…” You cooed, catching the attention of your daughter. “Dada is on the phone, you wanna say hi?” You asked, and in an instant she was running over and climbing onto the bed, snatching your phone out of your hand and holding it up to her face.

“Appa!” She cheered, her tiny toothed smile stretching across her face as she waved one of her hands to the screen. “You on tv too, look!” She said, turning the camera in the direction of the television screen so Minho could see.

“I know, but I want to see you right now, appa misses you a bunch.” He said softly, his heart clenching knowing that this was the only way he could see his daughter right now, that he wasn’t able to hold her or hug her. It was only a couple days, but times like this made it feel like forever. “You letting momma sleep?” He asked, and he watched her big brown eyes glance over at your passed out form before her head nodded the affirmative.

“It night but my eyes not sleepy yet… I try to sleep, but my eyes say… they say wake up!” She explained and then sighed loudly, her tiny hand moving to her head as she shook it. “I not know what wrong… It crazy!” She continued, and Minho snorted softly, taking a silent moment to adore his daughter and the way she seemed just like you and just like him at the same time, picking up on both of your mannerisms so well in the short 4 years since she had been born.

“It’s hard, isn’t it booboo? You don’t have to go to sleep yet… You can stay on the phone with appa, but you gotta let mommy sleep. She’s really tired.” Minho explained, and your daughters unsteady camera hand allowed him a quick glimpse of you, your lips turned up into a small smile as you dozed peacefully beside her. “Are you having fun?”

The conversation continued on for another two hours, he even got to watch the sunrise through the window behind the bed as he sat on the phone. “I think I sleepy now…” She mumbled, her little lips forming a small o before turning to a pout. “But you not here… What about if I have a bad dream?” And now Minho was pouting once again, his bottom lip jutted out at the thought of not being able to chase away whatever monsters might try to scare his baby.

“What if I sing for you? Will that help keep the bad dreams away?” He asked, his voice softer now as it got later in Korea. She nodded her head fast before getting comfortable against the pillows and pulling the blanket up around her. “You comfy?” He asked, and she gave him a thumbs up before setting the phone down beside her, the view of his daughter now replaced with a still image of the ceiling that was painted orange in the early light of morning.

He sang softly, lullabies that he had heard you singing to her late at night when she was a newborn while rocking her back to sleep. Songs that he had come up with on the spot the moment he first held her in his arms. Lyrics of a love that only a father could know for his child. So many songs, but he didn’t mind, it felt like time had stood still as he listened to the soft breaths coming from his sleeping daughter beside the phone.

“Good morning…” Came your voice, still groggy and laced with sleep. “Did she just now go to sleep?” You questioned, carefully grabbing the phone from beside your daughter's head and bringing into view your half awake face that Minho fell in love with the first time he had spent the night with you and only seemed to love even more each time he seen it.

“Mmhm… And you should go back to sleep… You’ve only had 2 hours of rest, love. You need more.” He quietly proposed the idea, hoping that you’d agree to it. “I’m gonna go to sleep too… The bed is going to feel really empty without you in it though.”

“Two more days and we’ll both be home…” You reminded him with a tired smile, brushing your fingers along the phone screen, wishing you were able to touch him. “I miss you so much…” You tiredly admitted, and Minho could only hum in agreement, knowing that if he opened his mouth to speak the words he’d get teared up again.

“Get some sleep, love. Give my Mimi kisses from me… I’ll call you when I wake up… I love you.” After a short moment of silence, just the two of you staring longingly at each other through the phone screen, the call was ended. The screen went black, but he tapped it once more to see his lockscreen, an image of the three of you together. In two more days it would be like that again… But next time you leave the country to visit family, he’ll be sure to take a couple days off so he can go with you.

Perm. Taglist : @whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me @mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin @his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc @syuuji @jiisungllvr @yukichan67 @randomwimp @silentreadersthings @cutiespaghetti @furiousheartpoetry @its-hannjisung @lixpixstix @felixluvr915 @wordsofkpop @kayleigh-28 @szkstay @spnwinchestersd @fleatree @yehsehneeah @vampcharxter @iloveksmohsomuch @lvlnijiro @neteyamsmate4life

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fangirlingpuggle · 1 month

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Eldritch Danny/Eldritch Ancients reveal idea.

Danny starting to vaguely realize he's different form the type of halfa Vlad is, that he's getting powers so much faster and that he's not really aging, that he's getting different traits not normal ghost ones.

Frostbite kinda hinting this is different but not really saying anything, Clockwork assuring him this is fine but not explaining stuff telling him that knowing is not dangerous but undoable.

Danny wanting to press but getting odd sense that getting an answer would change things and a sense of foreboding when he asks so had been sort of ignoring it. When stuff gets to weird for ghost stuff sort of hiding it and going to frostbite or CW for answers.

He tried showing Sam, Tucker one time but they got really bad headaches and it seemed to mess with them a bit so he noped out of there. Sam and Tucker deciding just weirder then normal ghost stuff, though they can tell that's a bit off. Jazz knowing somethings up but also ghost stuff is weird... though she's suspecting that ghost stuff isn't really the right term, but if what she suspects is a thing is a thing she's not to sure what that would even mean.

So Danny's trying not to thin about to much, none of them are... until they're in English class and the topic is horror Mr Lancer announces syllabus is changing because classic horror and ghosts don't seem like a great topic to do and instead they're going to do cosmic horror.

Danny just sitting and listening about cosmic horror and eldritch entities and slow realizing creeping in, reading the pieces and just sitting in English class when he realizes he's not half ghost or half human, not even full ghost he's beyond that.

That Frostbite calling him great one is the same as ancient one.

That the ancients are more than ghosts... that he is to.

Just sitting in English class as the fabric of reality breaks a little as he realizes and fully becomes what he has been without knowing.

#danny phantom #dp #eldritch danny #au #fic prompt #the ancients are eldrtich beings #dp au #danny fenton #clockwork #dp lost time #frostbite

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leighsartworks216 · 6 months

Text

Darlin' I'd Wait For You

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Requested by propertyofjmiller on AO3:

“hiya ^^ super duper simple request; softly singing astarion to sleep as he's laying on tav's tummy and she's playing with his hair :) it could be set after his ‘good ending’ where you talk him out of ascending, so the relationship is established (if that's easier from a writing perspective) but i'm always for an emotionally constipated astarion who's still learning how to accept non-sexual intimacy 🤗 absolutely obsessing over your writing atm

JUST HAD A BRAIN WAVE. https://spotify.link/oCo4B63H0Db this song completely encapsulates the vibe”

It is currently 1 am I really wanted to write something and I'm so sleepy it only felt fitting to do this request. I have not proofread it at all but if I try to I will pass out so ✌️

Title based on "j's lullaby (darlin' i'd wait for you)" by Delaney Bailey

Warnings: none

Word Count: 943

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

He’s utterly restless. Maybe that shouldn’t be surprising - he was an elf who didn’t need to sleep like you did. A few hours’ meditation and he’d be perfectly fine. But it’s not like he’d never slept before. Even on your adventure, he found some solace in sleeping instead of meditating. So why couldn’t he sleep now?

Astarion sighs quietly, trying not to be loud despite the frustration that burns him up inside. He tries rolling over again, like it’ll help. He bites back another frustrated sigh.

You roll over to face him. Your lids are heavy and you look the embodiment of tiredness, but you smile softly at him. “Can’t sleep?” you whisper.

He does sigh this time, long and annoyed. “No,” he grumbles. You chuckle, but he knows it’s harmless. Still, he can’t help being a little hot-and-bothered by it. A bit ruder than is appropriate for so late at night, he bites out, “Sorry if I woke you.”

“It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep either.”

With a stifled yawn, you sit up. He watches, intrigued, as you prop up pillows behind you and lay back into them. Then you delicately touch his shoulder. Always so gentle. You never wanted to overwhelm him or overstep. It was still a new concept for him. You’d brush a finger against his while walking side by side to see if he wished to hold hands; you’d hover a hand near his lower back when you had to slip by, never quite touching; you’d reach a hand up toward his hair and wait for him to lean in or verbally tell you he wanted it, and if he didn’t respond at all or even slightly shook his head, your hand would drop back down and you’d smile so brightly at him. It made his head spin.

With your other hand, you pat your belly. “C’mon, I’ll sing to you.” Even this is an invitation he could refuse. But how can he, when he is so restless and your plush, warm skin is calling to him?

He crawls to lay on top of you - though, it’s more like he pulls himself across the space until he can drop his head into your stomach. You lightly trace your hand from his shoulder to his upper-back, giving him a warm sense of security. Your other hand brushes a curl from his face. He looks up at you, not fully resting his chin on you, for fear of pressing too hard.

You drag your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching your nails against his scalp. He leans into it, eyes closing at the sensation. When you reach the hairs on the back of his neck, you scratch and twirl your fingers to capture the stray little curls.

You hum as you finally pick what song you want to sing. You weren’t a bard, nor had you taken any voice lessons, but Astarion can’t help thinking you have the most perfect singing voice he’s ever heard. You can’t reach all the notes you want to, your voice warbles and falls a little flat, and sometimes you don’t remember the words. But he loves it all the same.

Darlin’, I’d wait for you

Even if you didn’t ask me to

Tie a lasso around the moon

And bring it on down to you

He turns to rest his ear against you. His arms slide underneath you, between your back and the pillows, and hold you like a child’s favorite toy.

I’d bottle the feeling you give me

And shelve that stuff for years to come

‘Cause, baby, when your arms are around me

I’d swear that I’m holding the sun

He smiles at the lyrics you sing so softly. You can’t help but smile, too.

You play with his hair unhurriedly, lazily. It’s always so soft. Your other hand rubs circle designs in between his shoulder blades. You easily avoid the scars beneath his sleep-shirt, so intimately familiar with his back in a way he would have hated before. He thinks he can make out sloppy elvish writing, but it’s hard to say. His mind is too sluggish to recall if you even know the language.

I’d give you the sun if you asked me

You could have all of time

You could have the stars and the trees

When dividin’ up the universe

You could have mine

His entire body relaxes into yours, until where you begin and he ends becomes a blur. Neither of you are eager to figure it out. Instead, you continue to sing your quiet lullaby. Your voice begins to trail off somewhere along the way, hands slowing and losing their rhythm. He can hear your breaths even out until you can no longer sing, fully claimed by your exhaustion.

He continues to lay there for a bit longer. He counts the seconds it takes for you to breathe in and out. He counts the beats of your heart as it slows to a steady pattern. Every so often, your fingers twitch in his hair or against his back, as though part of you is fighting to wake up again and continue taking care of him. But he’s already perfectly content right where he is. He is warm and safe, and you are warm and safe.

The dark tendrils of sleep crawl in from the outer edges of his mind until they overwhelm him. His dreams are filled with you - your voice, your smile, the way you feel in his arms, the way you touch him so tenderly. Come morning, he can experience it all for himself, but for now, he cherishes every second.

---

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