#Catch These Hands Watcher

[royalarchivist]

Ironmouse: I love it when you punch me.

Baghera: Yeah, you do? Oh, I'll keep going then. [Punches Mouse off the walkway]

Ironmouse: What a treat. What a treat to be punched by Baghera!

Baghera: You can crush me too, if you want.

Ironmouse: I WANNA CRUSH YOU! YEAH!!! ...If only I had the guts to crush such a beautiful person.

Baghera: One day you will. Oh yeah, please!

Phil: ...What am I hearing right now? 🤨🏳️‍🌈

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

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Ironmouse: Baghera! :D

Baghera: Hiya! How are you?

Ironmouse: I love it when you punch me.

Baghera: Yeah, you do? Oh, I'll keep going then. [Punches Mouse off the walkway]

Phil: [Laughing in the background]

Ironmouse: Oh, thank you.

Baghera: Yeah, don't worry.

Ironmouse: What a treat. What a treat to be punched by Baghera!

Baghera: You can crush me too, if you want!

Phil: [Dying in the background] Wtf!

Ironmouse: I WANNA CRUSH YOU!

Baghera: YEAH! Do it!

Phil: Oh my god...

Ironmouse: YEAH!!! ...If only I had the guts to crush such a beautiful person!

Baghera: One day you will. Oh yeah, please!

Phil: ...What am I hearing right now?

Baghera: Oh, yeah, sorry. Yeah.

Phil: [Cracks up]

[ohcaptains]

JJ is far more gentle than he was taught to be. when he kisses you, he runs his thumb over the line of your jaw. cups your cheek, and holds you steady as he plants his chapped lips on yours.

he’ll kiss you when you least expect it. you’ll feel him looking at you, which is not unlike him. JJ is a watcher. half of the time, he doesn’t notice that he’s staring, until you look up, and raise a curious brow. but when you don’t catch him, he’ll dip low, gently turn your head and kiss you silly.

smiles against your mouth, the hilt of it causing you to mimic the movement, until you’re smiling so hard you can’t kiss anymore. when he pulls away from the kiss, he leans his forehead against yours. gazes at you, and the sight of you longingly looking back is reflected in his eyes.

“what was that for?”

“was kiss starved.”

JJ says stuff like that. is really dramatic. when he greets you, he’ll exclaim something like, “oh, thank god! was looking for you everywhere. this morning, i felt really weak, so i called the doctors, and they said you should kiss me all day.”

“you’re holding out on me, babe. you’ve only kissed me 4 times today. have i done something wrong?”

“give me your hand, im starting to think you hate me.”

what he aches for — what he craves, more than anything — is his gentle touch being returned. so you hang onto his arm when you walk around town. give him a chaste kiss on his cheek, then brush his hair behind his ear.

you trace the lines of him. the bumps and the bruises.

greet him with things like, “there’s my beautiful boy,” and, “hey handsome.” JJ blushes everytime. blushes, then contemplates leaving and returning, just so you can greet him with a compliment again.

[tokkishouse]

(Nsfw) Time of the Year

Characters: Tighnari x fem!Reader

Warnings: (n)sfw -- minors dni!!!, Tighnari is insatiable, he's a fennec fox during mating season-- do the math lol (breeding, knotting, a little manhandling), little dacryphillia, hair pulling, reader is implied to be a fellow forest watcher and has a vision, bit of a long set up (pwp?), NOT PROOF READ, i kinda...blacked out when i wrote this LMAO

WC: ~3.4k words

There were many things about Tighnari that intrigued you. How a hybrid like him came around was the major one-- you had only seen one other hybrid like him before and that was General Gorou all the way in Inazuma.

His mannerisms also caught your eye-- the constant grooming of his tail and the nesting habits where he'd hoard all the warm blankets in his abode. While endearing, it never failed to earn your attention and curious stares.

What you really wanted to understand was where exactly your fearless leader went during the entire month of January and February. During all the years you were under his instruction as a forest watcher, without fail, Tighnari would be on a leave of absence from January 1st until the end of February. March 1st would roll around and there he was, picking up his responsibilities as if he wasn't gone for two months.

When you inquired about it to the others, they'd brush it off and dance around the subject. Some would scold you for being too curious while others would bluntly say it wasn't your business. And maybe it wasn't-- if it was crucial for everyone to know, Tighnari would've made sure everyone knew.

Too bad you were always determined to find the answer to your deepest questions.

After a long day of exploring Avidya Forest and clearing out any withering zones, you longed to take a nice relaxing bath and sink into your bed as you escape to dreamland. Tasks had gotten a tad harder recently with Tighnari gone, but everyone managed to make do, especially thanks to you and Collei assisting with your visions.

"That Tighnari...I wonder how he's doing," you mumble under your breath as you make your way back to your hut. You just finished taking a bath as evident from the dull drip drip of the water falling from your hair. You stop at the intersection between everyone's huts and you look down the path to Tighnari's.

"I didn't see him leave the forest. Maybe he's still here?" The desire to check if your leader creeps into your brain. You recall everyone's hesitance to explain Tighnari's absence and without thinking, your legs carry you down the path to his home.

His closed door greets you, and there's a sign hanging from the hook. It reads, 'Do not Disturb-- Please Come Back March 1'. You click your tongue in frustration. Why on earth would you request an absence and still stay here in the forest?

You raise your fist to knock on the door, the desire to ignore all warnings stronger than ever. It hovers right in front of the door, and no matter how much you seem to want to knock on the door, you can't bring yourself to do so. You let out a defeated sigh, letting your hand drop to your side.

"Let's not be an ass. I'm sure Tighnari has his reasons. We can always ask him later." Despite your aching curiosity, you decide to respect Tighnari's privacy, and you turn on your heel to leave. Before you can leave though, a loud groan catches your attention. It sounds pained, and you whip your head back around towards the door.

"Tighnari...? Are you okay?" you call out to him, concern lacing your voice. Silence fills the air, and you almost move away, convinced you misheard the sound in the first place. Another groan sounds from behind the door, and it sounds more strangled this time. Instincts kick in, and you immediately grab the doorknob, twisting it as you walk in.

You take time to let your eyes refocus on the sudden burst of light in your eyes, nearly blinded by it. When your vision clears, your jaw drops at the sight in front of you.

Tighnari is propped up against his couch, limbs sprawled out as if they're made of jello. His face is flushed and his bangs cling to his head from the sweat that's dripping down his face. His usually bright and focused eyes have taken on a glazed look, and his pupils have contracted, giving him a more animalistic look. What really catches your eyes are his clothes, or rather-- his lack of clothes.

The hybrid has stripped down bare in the middle of the room, his clothes strewn around in a haphazard way. You're unable to fully react to the sight of him gingerly palming his erect cock. It stands up straight, blushing a bright red at the tip. Precum leaks from the head, smearing around the shaft from his languid motions. He lazily turns his gaze to you, a small glimmer of recognition shining in his eyes.

"Y/n...what are you doing here?" he manages to breathe out. He doesn't stop his hand, letting out a quiet whimper when he presses down hard on his sensitive length. You can feel your brain short-circuit as you stumble over your words, trying to form an excuse for the invasion of privacy.

"I-I heard you groan and I thought you were in pain, so I thought I'd come in," you explain, and you can't help the fact that your gaze lowers, once again entranced by the sight of Tighnari touching himself. You weren't blind-- Tighnari was a handsome man. His personality was welcoming, and his features were easy on the eyes. You weren't the only person to have felt this way, and the sight of such an attractive man pleasuring himself, almost pathetically, sends a tingling sensation down to your core, and you feel yourself grow damp.

Tighnari catches on easily, the scent of your blooming arousal sends his mouth watering. He can't help his more animalistic urges-- no matter how much he tried. You see, he had also found you attractive, and the first year that he had a rut with you as a ranger, he nearly tore off the head of one of the male rangers who flirted with you. Unaware of your feelings for him, he opted to instead request a leave of absence. Two months out of the year he'd be gone, and then he'd come back perfectly fine, and you would be unaware that you were the reason for his choice of isolation.

However, smelling your arousal and recognizing the signs of want, of desire as your gaze remains steady on his weeping dick, he knew that the feelings were mutual. A fire was lit in his stomach, and any feebleness he felt from the onslaught of hormones washed away as he adjusts himself to sit up properly. His hand remains on his shaft, switching to a pumping motion.

"Are you getting off to seeing your leader a lewd mess? I didn't take you for that type of person," he teases, and he grits his teeth, a shock of pleasure shooting up his spine with the squeeze of his hand. You feel your cheeks burn in embarrassment and you finally manage to peel your gaze away from the angry dick, choosing to find the ceiling more interesting.

"I-I'm sorry! I'll leave right away. Forget you saw anything. I'll-"

"Forget I saw anything?" Tighnari laughs, and your legs feel like lead. His laugh is incredulous-- and you don't blame him. How does one just forget the sight of their subordinate walking in on them jacking off?

"The fact that you didn't run out of here leads me to believe that you find me attractive and that the sight of me pathetically trying to get myself off turns you on. Am I wrong?" He's not, by any means, and the growing wetness between your legs is further proof of that.

"Why don't we help each other out?" He suggests, watching you through his long lashes.

The air is thick with sexual tension as you both stare at each other. Despite his exposed position, Tighnari holds all the power. He's giving you an out, and you can tell he's genuine. You could just run out of his home, and pretend the situation never happened. But the yearning inside you is too high. You've desired a chance like this ever since you joined the Forest Rangers. And of course, you were curious.

What was it like to fuck a hybrid?

✦✧✦✧

Exhausting. That was your answer. The moment you gave Tighnari his approval, he pounced on you. His claws made quick work of your clothes as he flung them around the room. You barely had time to react before his mouth latched onto one of your breasts, his hot tongue painting shapes on your skin. You keen at his touch, whines and moans tumbling out your lips as he leaves love bites all over your chest.

Alternating between the two, his mouth suckles on your nipples, painting drool and spit coating your breasts. When Tighnari pulls away, they feel sore and you hiss as the air feels cool in contrast to the warm saliva and the heat that rushes to the surface of your skin.

He wastes no time as he pulls you into the desired position, his animalistic strength making it easy to get you on your hands and knees. Clawing at your ass, he bites his tongue and hisses as he catches sight of the slick gathering on your inner thighs.

"I won't have to waste time prepping you. Good, because I don't want to wait any longer." Your cunt clenches around nothing, and you whine in anticipation. In an attempt to hurry him, you wiggle your hips to entice him. All that earns you is a harsh slap to your ass, and you yelp in surprise. The fox kneads the skin soothingly, as if in apology before lining his dick with your entrance.

The tip kisses your folds, splitting them apart as some of your essence coats the head. He nearly cums right there, his nerves lighting up like fireworks at the warm feeling of your slick coating his cock. He manages to restrain himself, just enough to give more instructions.

"The safe word is 'bloom'. I intend to have you as I please and I won't stop until I'm satisfied. Even if that means you can't hold yourself up." You clench again, this time catching his tip and he nearly crumbles. "If you need me to stop, you will have to say it. I will not stop unless you say 'bloom.' Do you understand?" he manages to finish.

Why on earth you would ever stop him from ravaging you is beyond you, but you appreciate the communication. You nod and wiggle your hips again, taking on a desperate tone to your voice.

"Hurry up and give me a reason to use that safe word, 'Nari."

Like lighting a match, his restraint burns away and his grip on you becomes bruising. In one smooth push, he fully sheathes himself inside you, hissing at how tight and warm you feel around his cock. The sudden intrusion has you trembling and you almost fall over. Your cunt is quick to grow wetter in an attempt to provide more lube. The stretch is mind-numbing, and you whine pathetically as he brings you to the hilt. You feel something slightly bulbous push against your folds, and your mind scrambles to try to make sense of it.

You don't have time to focus on the sensation, and moans slip between your lips as Tighnari slowly pulls his cock out, only leaving just the tip in. The emptiness you feel is hallowing, and you realized you've already become addicted to the feeling of his cock inside you. He doesn't leave you dissatisfied for long, thrusting back into you shortly after.

He picks up a steady rhythm, pulling you back against him with each thrust. You sob with each thrust, digging your nails into your palms. Every time he pulls out, he catches sight of his cock coated in your juices from your sopping pussy. A creamy ring forms around the base of his cock, and he bites back a growl that reverberates in his chest. After years of only being able to get off with his own hand, he'll never go back. Hearing your squeals and watching the way that your essence drips out around his length with each thrust was intoxicating, and he can't get enough.

His thrusts get more violent, his clawed hands digging more into your hips, you find yourself struggling to keep yourself propped up on your hands. Heavy balls slap against your clit, adding extra stimulation that makes your cunt squeeze around Tighnari's cock deliciously. He snarls in your ears with each squeeze, your reactions spurring him on to continue his assault on your dripping heat.

"T-Tighnari...p-please, slow down..c-can't," you plead, slightly turning your head to gaze at him with bleary eyes. Your cheeks are flushed, heat radiating off of your body, and drool dribbles down the corner of your mouth as you struggle to meet his gaze. You flinch at his unwavering stare, and let out a squeal when he reaches one of his hands up to place it on your back between your shoulders.

"Are you going to say the safe word?" he questions, slowing down his thrusts. His gaze remains unchanged but you can hear concern sewn into his words. He's offering you another out. As much as it hurts, you didn't want to slow down anytime soon. You've wanted him for as long as you've worked with him and there was no way you were going to stop halfway. You shake your head, clamping your mouth shut. That's all the permission he needs before he gives a forceful shove and pushes you down onto the floor, forcing your body into a deep arch and your head to the floor as you let out a pornographic moan.

"If you can't hold yourself up, just lie there and take it. I won't have my fill for a while," he hisses out, the edge in his voice coming back. He continues his previously brutal pace,

The new angle has you feeling him so much more, and you swear he's able to fuck into you deeper. His name rolls off your tongue in chants as you press yourself against the floor, submitting to the position you've been forced into. A new burn aches through your body from the harsh angle but the way that Tighnari's cock bullies itself into your cunt brings pleasure crashing down in its wake.

The feeling of a coil tightening in your stomach grows, and as it grows tighter and tighter, your vision blurs as your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your moans dry into pathetic whimpers, stifled by the rubbing of your face against the hardwood floor. The friction stings, causing tears to well up in your eyes, much to Tighnari's delight.

" 's too much, hm? Are you crying because you can't take it? I told you I wouldn't be nice," he mocks, slowing down his pace to a more intentional one, sharp thrusts rutting against that spongy spot in your walls. You wail at the new pace, missing the vigor behind Tighnari's thrust but craving the grinding of his dick against that sensitive spot.

" 'm gonna cum...'nari, I'll cum!" you whine, gathering all the strength you can to try and push your body up, hoping to be able to meet his thrusts. Sharp pain rings through your head as Tighnari grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks you back, causing you to yelp. Your back is pressed against his chest, and he quickly adjusts his hand so his arm wraps around your torso to hold you upright.

Your breathing picks up as gravity forces you to drop down on his cock at a more direct angle, and more pathetic sobs slip off your tongue. He bucks his hips up, forcing you to bounce in his lap. His knot, now rising and more shapely kisses your folds, parting them more and more with each thrust. The wet slaps of skin against skin, the splats of your fluids dripping onto the floor-- you've become hyperaware of the erotic scene unfolding around you. Something damp and fuzzy wraps around your leg and presses against your clit, and that coil inside starts to tighten more. You manage to spare a glance and whine when you realize that Tighnari's tail has started rubbing against your sensitive nub.

"Go on, cum. Cum all over me," he commands, and your body listens without hesitation. Loud, purely pornographic wails fill the room as you gush all over Tighnari's cock. He groans into the crook of your neck, melting at the feeling of your walls spasming around him. He almost gets swept up by the sensation, nearly cumming inside you. But he instead bites down on your unblemished skin in an attempt to ground you, and you arch your back from the pain of his canines digging into you.

Your vision dots with white, and you feel you curl your toes in pure euphoria. The crashing waves of your orgasm keep rolling, powered by the persistent stroking of your captain's tail stroking your clit. In a brief moment of clarity, that fact rings bells in your head: your captain. Your superior. You just came on your superior's dick. There was no coming back from this. Your relationship with Tighnari has changed, for better or for worse. A twinge of worry shoots down your spine, culling your orgasm almost instantly. But you don't have time to dwell on your fears-- a sharp bite to your jaw brings you back to reality.

"Don't think I'll let you go just yet. We still have plenty of the rest of the month to go," Tighnari scolds under his breath, and you squeal as you come back to the fact that you're still bouncing on his cock, taking all of it, inch by inch, with little resistance. Your cheeks darken when you glance down at the growing puddle of milky fluids underneath the two of you.

You can feel the head of his dick swell, and you realize he's about to cum. Tighnari's tightening grip and more erratic groans are all you need for confirmation. Crescent moons form on your hips as his claws dig in drawing a little blood. You can barely focus on the increasing pace, gasping every time he bottoms out fully inside you. His knot pops in and out, the only shred of resistance despite the copious amounts of essence dripping everywhere.

The faint, reasonable part of your mind is screaming at you to ask him to pull out, to cum on any part of your body that wasn't your pussy. The more prominent, more needy, and desperate part was far louder-- you craved to feel his cum inside you. You don't know if a hybrid can get a regular human pregnant, and a part of you wants to find out. A risk that results in Tighnari's warm cum filling you up? You clench at the thought and he growls in appreciation.

His thrusts get sloppier, more intent on slamming your hips down against his in an attempt to catch his knot. His efforts are initially fruitless, his knot just barely slipping out. With one rather harsh thrust though, he manages to force it in with a wet pop, and you keen as you both cum at the same time. The tightness of your cunt aids in keeping his knot plugged inside you as he cums.

It's warm and thick and flows inside you like a turret. Tighnari continues to bite and tug at your neck, lapping up any blood that spills when he breaks the skin. Your mind goes blank, and you feel like you're floating on clouds. His cum leaves you feeling warm and full, and you feel limp as you rest against him.

A few moments of stillness pass, and as you feel your strength return, you try to shift to get off. Tighnari is quick to grab your waist and keep you still, letting out a warning growl.

"Don't. Move. Not done yet." A shiver runs down your spine and you manage to voice out your confusion.

"Done..? But you came..and," you trail off, too embarrassed to discuss the literal knot inside you. He chuckles at this, and slides a hand down to palm your overstimulated bud, causing you to whimper in protest.

"I told you-- we have the rest of the month. I'm not finished with you yet." He lowers his voice to barely above a whisper, his next sentence making your stomach flip.

"By the time I'm through, I'll make sure you have a kit or two inside you."

Happy Valentine's Day and thank you for 750+ followers!

@scarasweetheart For u ❤️

Requests (both sfw and nsfw) are open~!

[hoseoksluna]

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.” 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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

[yenqa]

angel

synopsis — sunghoon can’t seem to figure out if you’re human or an angel.

warnings — sunghoon is a lil tipsy but sobers up quickly (also idk how tipsy people act so sorry), mentions of drinking, reader is called pretty and has a purse

pairing — sunghoon x (implied) fem!reader

wordcount — 1197

a/n — happy late bday sunghoon! hope he had the best birthday ever

inspired by the song “angel” by keshi! also not proofread sorry

Sunghoon wasn’t having the greatest birthday of all time. After 21 years of his life he decides he likes this one the least.

It’s weird, he was supposed to be drunk and having fun at Jake’s apartment until the clock hit ungodly hours of the day, but instead it’s 9pm, and he’s more tipsy than he would like to be at a random bench in a park.

It’s not like he was kicked out or anything, but Jake’s apartment had become too stuffy for him and the smell of alcohol overwhelmed him and they had invited way too many people for his liking, so he decided it was best to go on a walk alone. He had no idea how or why he was now sitting on the bench.

Sunghoon has always been a people watcher, he enjoyed seeing others smile over news he had no idea about, or watching someone quickly walk to their destination, creating make-believe stories of where they’re going and why they’re going so fast.

There’s not many people around—scratch that, Sunghoon can’t spot anyone, but his vision is too disoriented to be trusted.

That’s when his eye catches you, strolling down the stone pathway—Wait were those angel wings?

His eyes squint towards you, unable to differentiate if you were wearing a scarf or were an actual angel from heaven, but he saw the grin on your face and figured you could easily pass for one.

You happily plop down on the other side of the bench, eyes scanning the scenery around you.

This immediately sobers him up, and he fixes his posture. Glancing over to him, you give him a smile, asking “What are you doing here so late at night?”

He’s unable to comprehend that you’re talking to him, as if the alcohol had come rushing back to his head and made him unable to think or even say anything to pretty people like you.

He finally finds his voice, replying, “It’s my birthday, and I’ve been out with my friends all day, but I needed some space for a little.”

Gasping at the mention of his birthday, you rummage through your purse, also saying “Why didn’t you say so! I don’t have a gift for you.”

He chuckled, shaking his hands, “You don’t have to give me a gift, we don’t even know each other's name yet, angel girl.” Looking up, you can feel warmth fill your cheeks at the name, quickly snapping out of it to search for something you can do.

“My name’s Y/n, what’s your name, birthday boy?”

Letting out an Ah-hah! You showcase a small lighter proudly in your hands, he mumbles your name to himself a couple of times, forcing it to go to his sober mind so he remembers everything.

You push the lighter, letting a flame fill the metal part, scooting next to him, you gesture for him to blow the fire out.

He smiles, blowing it out in one go, you clap your hands singing the words happy birthday over and over again. Maybe this birthday isn’t so bad.

“Sunghoon.”

“What?” You tilt your head slightly.

“My name, it’s Sunghoon.”

Nodding, you place the match carefully into your bag, “Well, Sunghoon, how does it feel to be—wait how old are you?”

You silently pray that you aren’t talking to anyone over the age of 24, crossing your fingers in your pocket and anxiously wait for his reply.

“I’m 21 today, got my first sip of alcohol!” He jokes.

Mentally letting out a sigh of relief, you make sure he isn’t left curious, “I’m 20! But anyways—how does it feel to be officially 21?”

He takes a breath, unsure where to start.

The truth is he’s terrified of growing old, having more responsibilities than he could ever imagine. Every year he’s inching closer to a time where he’s supposed to be successful, but all he feels is that he’s failed to do anything.

“Can I say something kind of personal?” Sunghoon decides it’s much better to be safe than sorry.

You nod, a soft smile grows on your face, “Tell me anything! I’m here to listen.”

“I feel kind of scared? I don’t think I’m ready for those kinds of responsibilities.”

Feeling bold, you gently take one of his hands, cupping it with your hands. His cold hands contrasts your warms ones, but you don’t mind.

“I think you’re underestimating yourself, Sunghoon. As you grow older—yes you’ll have more responsibilities but it’ll join your routine, then when you find that you have lots of responsibilities you’ll be so used to it that you won’t even notice a thing!”

He nods, taking in your advice word by word, “I guess I never really thought of it that way, thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.”

You hum in reply, and a wave of silence washes over you two.

Turning your face up, you relish at the sight of the sky. Though the city won’t ever let the stars shine, you can still admire the moon, glimmering in the dark sky.

It's almost a full moon, and you swear you’ve never seen a sight prettier.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” You ask.

Sunghoon’s eyes widen slightly, but you don’t look over at him. He’s not sure that you understand the true meaning of it, considering you just met. So he brushed it off, agreeing with your question.

Though it’s hard to focus on the moon when there's a person right next to him, emulating a warm aura that he can’t help but mistake for something mystical.

You two sit in silence, both admiring the surreal sight ahead of you.

You finally look back at him, warmth filling your cheeks when you catch that he wasn’t even facing the moon the whole time. Looking away, he raises a hand to cover his face, you giggle, looking away just as flustered as him.

A sound of your cell phone rings through your ears, you begrudgingly pick it up, muttering an apology to him before answering the call. He doesn’t eavesdrop but he can tell it’s something important.

He’s proven right when you put the phone down, a frown on your face when you explain, “I gotta go—I’m so sorry! My sister needs urgent help with something, but have an amazing birthday Sunghoon.” You wave goodbye standing up and taking a few steps away.

He grabs your arm before you can go, turning you around so you’ll face him.

“Will I ever see you again?”

You chuckle, opening your bag to pull out a pen and an old napkin. Writing your number, you hand the napkin to him, leaving with the same grin that you had when he first spotted you.

He watches as you walk away, calling back your—what he assumes—sister to address the situation. He slouches back down when you’re out of view, checking the time he’s realized he’s been out for too long, so he races back to Jake’s house.

Walking back in he spots Jake, the boy hastily walks over to him, asking “Bro—where were you? We were looking for you.”

Sunghoon lets out five words, “I just met an angel.”

perm taglist — @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri-deactivated20231209 @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @boyfhee @hanniluvi @teddywonss

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

[jellymellydraws]

Gortash has to sit there while he gets glimpses of his dead wife favorite assassin haunting the sword coast through the lenses of Scrying Eyes and Steel Watchers.

The first time he sees her, he can't believe it. It's a trick of the light. Orin fooling him again. But no, Orin is right beside him. In the Scrying Eye, it's her. It's Rose. Falling into ever so familiar habits, but still something different about her. A new way of carrying herself. A new smile upon her lips. A different glint in her eye. She talks to Minthara, discussing plans of The Absolute, and saunters away with a pale elf that she playfully nudges and laughs with.

Then on his way to Moonrise, he's checking in on Ketheric. She's there. She doesn't command the room how she used to-- like she's a stranger to this place. But that isn't the part that catches grips him. It's when that same damned pale elf is pacing outside of her old room-- now taken over by Balthazar. When he hesitantly asks her if they could talk. When she invites him to join her outside.

The look of concern is foreign to him. Her soft gaze shakes his core.

He can't remember if she ever whispered so tenderly the way she does to the elf. The face she makes as she slowly wraps her arms around him, like she's afraid her touch would shatter something so delicate and dear. They hold each other, for ages.

He breaks the connection.

Finally she's home, in their city. The damned elf is with her. Their hands are inseparable as they frolic the streets, taunting the Archduke-to-be with their laughter and adoration of each other. Orin made a mess of her, this much was true.

But if he could just get a moment of her time. A private meeting...

He'd help her remember what she was. What they were.

They could have everything they promised, together.

He was sure of it.

[betasquads]

JEALOUSY, Niko Omilana

———————————

—————————————

Summary: In which your boyfriend Niko Omilana gets visibly upset and jealous at how close you we're being with your work partner, Sharky.

Warnings: does kissing count as a warning?

A/N: lmk if you guys want a part two !

also this isn't checked so excuse me if there's any common mistakes, it was rushed.

You met your boyfriend Niko through Sharky, and you couldn't be more grateful. You had immediately hit it off even though the vibe between you two wasn't the best in the beginning.

No one had thought that you, a complete different aesthetic would hit it off with someone like Niko.

Even Sharky himself could feel his blood boil everytime at the mention of you two together since he was confident that when he introduced you to the beta squad was that no one would come close to you.

It's not like you were a terrible person or anything like that. You were just your own person. A really known person who would show up on youtube to give up your own mindset about dating and how miserable it makes you. You weren't just babbling words for fame or attention, you went through a relationship that made you hate the idea of dating or falling in love.

You always promised to yourself to never date infront of millions of watchers, but of course, it was immediately changed once you had met Niko. He was a fearless individual with a strong personality and that was what drew you in.

You kept your relationship private, until Niko sneaked a kiss on your lips not knowing that there was paparazzi lingering around.

You simply didn't care and never really replied to what the media said, until it started becoming really annoying.

Of course, the internet wouldn't leave you alone, what'd you expect? So the only message that you gave to the world was simply, 'I was wrong about all the things I've said, because not every man that you meet is like the rest.'

But Sharky always felt deeply hurt after it was announced that you and Niko were officially together. It wasn't even Niko's fault, Sharky always kept these feelings locked away for the sake of your happiness with your passion of telling the world about your point of view and experience with falling in love.

If he knew that he couldn't have you now, he'll wait. Even if it was for years. Plus that didn't really stop him from flirting or observing from afar.

Niko would catch the way he looks at you, but of course you being oblivious, all you did was laugh whenever Sharky treated you extra special. You always thought it was because you've been friends way before fame hit for both of you, but you were completely wrong.

Niko would always be furious, but since he really didn't have proof for everything, he decides to keep his mouth shut.

"Today on beta squad, we're doing our very own edition of would i lie to you." Right after Chunkz makes the announcement, everyone including you start cheering in excitement.

Niko snakes an arm around your waist as he laughs in excitement and you turn to look up at him with butterflies swarming in your stomach. No matter how long the relationship you two have been together, you always felt this fuzzy feeling that always hit you and made you dizzy, the same exact warmth she had when she first met Niko.

They had thought it'd be a great idea to invite you for a video, just like how it is all the time. So you easily accepted, being really happy to be around them, especially Niko.

"On team one, on my right hand side, we have Nikolas Omilana, y/n y/l/n, and Sharky!" Niko was a little annoyed that out of all the people sharky had to be on their team, but irregardless, he was going to make sure that Sharky doesn't get too close.

"On my left hand side, we got Yung Filly, Aj shabeel, and King kenny!"

"They're all terrible liars, especially the gyall right there." Filly points at you and you just shrug, knowing that you had a tactic to work with.

"Let's start with this team first." Chunkz points at your team and Sharky was the first to start.

"You can do this." You whisper to Sharky and Niko obviously looking at you, felt his jaw tense.

He couldn't careless if this was Aj, Chunkz, Kenny, or even Filly, because he could clearly tell who liked you in a friendly way and he definitely knew Sharky liked you more than a friend.

"I got circumcised by a random Somali man." Sharky says and immediately everyone started to laugh, including you.

"Yeah, my mom knew at the age of 9." He nods with a straight face.

"So your mom let a random man touch your dick?" Niko who was supposed to be on your team, says to Sharky.

"Ay that's cheating! He's making it obvious that it is a lie." Aj points at Niko.

You nudge Niko playfully with your elbow and give him a look like you were telling him to behave and he just sends you a wholesome grin.

"Just a quick question. Any mandem over here seen his sausage? Or maybe the gyall over the–" Filly questions with a genuine hope that someone did see it, but Kenny immediately slaps the back of his neck to shut him up.

Niko's stomach turned at the statement even though it was clearly a joke, but it made him physically sick. He looks over to you, worried that it made you uncomfortable.

You on the other hand laugh it off for the sake of the video since you knew that's the humor that you had to take whenever you were filming with them, otherwise you being uncomfortable would've been seen as too dramatic among the fans. So, you just send a nod and a smile to Niko.

Chunkz agrees at Filly's question of him being circumcised and everyone let's out 'woo's' and 'ooh's' and he clarifies that it needs to be done because his religion said so for purification.

—

After a while the other team come into conclusion that it was false. Sharky shakes his in disapproval and shows them the side where it says true, and they all sigh and even let out yells of disapproval.

You on the other hand, wrap your arms around Sharky's shoulders as you both jumped into union and excitement.

Despite the grin on Niko's face, he was pissed. Seeing your cheeks a little flushed and your smile reaching your ears made him question himself. Do you laugh like this with him? Does he make you feel that happy?

All the thoughts swarm in his head and his stomach drops every second at the thoughts coming and he tries to push them off by focusing on it being Filly's turn.

—

It was currently the last round and both teams were tied. Your team decided to pick you for it since you knew how to get the other team confused. The other team picked Filly since he was the guest. If both teams tie again, you were going to keep going until one team wins.

You sigh deeply and grab your card, "I was expelled in 11th grade because my history teacher accused me of hitting her." You say with a straight face, but once you've seen Filly's face who was currently trying to hold in his laugh, you bite your lip to stiffen in your laughter.

"She's lying innit because she's laughing over there." Filly tells his teammates.

"I'm sorry, im sorry– but I can surely tell you that i am telling you the truth." You genuinely say but Aj was shaking his head as he was narrowing his eyes at you.

Kenny squints his eyes at you, "Tell us the story of what happened."

"So basically, I used to speak a lot during sessions and no matter how many times she's told me to shut up, yeah? I never did shut up and uh," You pause for second, trying to remember what had happened.

"She paused, she's thinking about how to fake the story." Kenny says and everyone yells as if they've caught the fact that you were 'faking' it.

"Ay, leave her alone. Let her continue." Sharky responds to them. Niko sends an annoyed look at Sharky, not caring if the camera caught it.

"Anyway, she was really mean for no reason and only had one way to expel me, and that is to lie. And let me just tell you something, yeah? She had to cry infront of the school administration to convince them that I did hit her. There's not much to say since the statement is direct and has no other explanation, but she hated the entire class and especially me." You explain and the opposed team starts laughing.

"Ay, she's good at waffling, but definitely a terrible liar." Aj speaks to the camera.

Niko began laughing at how your face was flushed in embarrassment, "Cold, cold. How do you feel being laughed at, baby?" He whispers in your ears but makes sure that everyone hears and rests his hand on your hips and makes sure his eyes meets Sharky who was already looking at him. You bite your bottom lip at how he presses his front against your back, forgetting for a moment that the camera was on.

"Take your hands off of her, Omilana. Not infront of the pizza shaped kid right across of you and the possibility of thousands of kids watching you." The host, Chunkz, warns Niko and he raises his hands up in surrender but sends you a glance that was far from innocent, and he tries to make sure that Sharky was looking at the entire interaction.

"Is that it?" Aj questions and you just simply nod.

"Bruva I can't lie, I have a deep feeling that she's told all of us this story before." Kenny says and you try not to wince, because you did indeed tell them before when you all hung out.

You just keep your straight face on at his statement, but inside, you could feel yourself screaming. You always took these challenges seriously.

"I'm not convinced that such teacher would do that." Filly shakes his head and you notice Aj nodding at his words. You internally beg that they would make it a lie.

They whisper to each other until Kenny grabs the stick that had lie and true, "We all think it's a lie." they come into conclusion and you could feel yourself grin.

"Alright, y/n, go ahead and reveal your answer." Chunkz announces loudly.

"It is..."

You show the side of the one that says 'true', "The truth!" You began laughing at their reaction, too lost to even notice the way Niko was looking at you.

He admired the way you were grinning from ear to ear and the way your cheeks were flushed and two strands of your hair on each side were laying on your face. What made him furious is the fact that Sharky was doing the exact same thing, admiring and taking in each feature of your face.

You pull both Niko and Sharky into a side hug as you jumped in excitement, "We could win this!" You say in joy.

"That's impossible! How could a teacher do that? Can't she get fired for that?" Aj yells, surprised.

"Maybe because she lied and she's the teacher which they would believe over the student, idiot." Kenny replies with a bland tone which erupted everyone's laugh.

"That is mad." Filly shakes his head.

You nod at Filly, "Go on."

"I once got locked in a car for two days." He states and you immediately grip Sharky's arm to contain your laughter since he was closer to you.

Niko just stares angrily at how touchy you were being this entire video. Hugging Sharky whenever you got something right or he did, constantly gripping his arms each time you wanted to laugh.

"That's impossible, ain't it?" You question.

"Just tell them the story, Filly." Chunkz says teasingly, clearly enjoying this.

"So uhm– so uh yeah. So–" He stutters.

"We caught him, we caught him!" Sharky says so loud that you laugh and shake your head.

"Let him speak you schmuck." Niko says a little aggressive, but no one picks up on it except for Sharky.

"I was around 7 and we had just got back from my first day of school and my mom took her groceries up to our house and left me in the car."

You couldn't take it seriously as you began laughing, "So you were in the car for two days? And she didn't drive you to school the next day?" You question, and everyone on your team and Chunkz let's out an 'ooooh' since you've picked up on something.

"We already know our choice. It's a lie." Sharky holds up the stick and Filly sighs.

"I'm sorry I did you both wrong, but yes, it is a lie." He says to both Kenny and Aj, disappointed.

Immediately on your left hand you felt someone pick you up for the victory, Sharky. He spinned you even though you feel a little uncomfortable about it, but you shrug it off.

Once he puts you down you turn to Niko and throw your arms around his neck and plant kisses all across his neck where camera can't see you doing this gesture. For some reason you could sense something off since you didn't feel the energy being returned. You just guessed that he was probably a little exhausted or tired.

"This confirms that this team had just won, congratulations to team one!" The host announces and the other team attacks each other and started blaming the other on why they lost.

"There's one important message that Filly and y/n have to say." Chunkz says a bit too serious.

You walk next to Filly and in union, you both say, "Play the trailer." The rest cheer and the camera was now off, everyone leaving to do their thing.

You run to Niko since his presence was the only thing that mattered to you. You see the way he was on his phone, not acknowledging your presence like he always does whenever you filmed with them.

You didn't think much of it and you wrap one of your hands around his neck, tiptoe–ing since he was tall. He always goes down a little for you, but for some weird reason, he doesn't.

You still reach to him after you struggle and your mouth finds his and you hear him let out a sharp sigh and his phone shutting off once your lips meets his. He places his phone inside his pocket and one hand wraps the front of you neck and the other grips your hip to deepen the kiss.

He kisses you like he's been longing to do so, but as if something comes into his senses, he takes his lips off of you and wipes his lips.

You're very confused by the action, but you immediately felt like there was somewhere to be, "I'll go to the lavatory and meet you outside." He just let's out a hum as his eyes were deeply focused on something in his phone.

You just chose to ignore it, not having anytime to start this since you both had somewhere special to be tonight. You and Niko don't live in the same apartment since you live with your best friend and so does he, so you barely find time to spend time together. You both had an idea of going out for dinner and just spending quality time for fun.

Before you took another step you see Sharky in the corner of your eye, coming to talk to you. Not wanting to be rude, you stood and waited until he made his way to you.

"Great game, they fans are going to love you even more for this." He smiles at you and you chuckle, flattered at this compliment.

"I'm so glad I had a chance to spend time with all of you." You send an appreciative friendly smile, but in Niko's eyes who was watching the entire interaction, was now sure it was far from friendly.

After that he definitely knew that he wasn't overlooking this. He had a huge feeling that you felt the same towards Sharky, and that just made him upset and furious.

So he gets up and walks up to the rest except Sharky to say his goodbyes and he leaves you all alone.

—

You hum to a song that came in your mind as you wash your hands thoroughly, drying them with tissues you had in your bag.

You get out with the widest smile, just for it to disappear when you see that Niko wasn't in the place where he was seated in the last time.

Confused, you walk to the rest of the boys who were all talking together about a conversation you weren't interested in, "Have you guys seen where Niko is?"

"Oh y/n you're still here? And what what do you mean by where Niko is? We thought you left with him?" Chunkz says, genuinely confused and even a little worried.

You furrow your eyebrows, "What? Left with him? No– I was in the lavatory for 10 minutes and now he's gone."

"This pussio just lied to us." Aj remarks jokingly, but there was a bit of a tone that indicated he was pissed that his best friend would do that.

"If this is a prank then seriously I have no time for this." You say with a bland tone and a fake smile, crossing your arms.

"Wallahi he left. He told us you were waiting in the car and that he had to leave." Chunkz was now completely confused on why Niko would abandon you, his girlfriend. Your fake smile immediately dropped.

You raise your eyebrows, surprised that Niko would even think of doing that. "Are you serious right now?" You said it more like a statement instead of a question since you knew that Chunkz was indeed telling the truth. Everyone's eyes are wide at the fact that Niko had just left you like that. You were also shocked.

You slightly scoff at how disrespected you just felt at the moment. You even felt embarrassed since you had no idea how you were going to get to your apartment or even get to him.

"I could drive you home if you'd like?" You hear Sharky offer.

"No I don't wanna tire you. Aj you live with him right? Can you drive me there or are you staying here for a while?" Your voice wavers as you speak, but you tried to keep a stern face.

Aj looks at you concerned and so does the rest, "That's so low, even for Niko." Filly remarks and unexpectedly he gets up and hugs you, almost squeezing you almost to death.

You hear the rest laugh at how soft Filly was, "Ay you crushing the poor gyall!" Chunkz remarks but that doesn't stop him from joining in the hug aswell.

"Jokes aside though, you good y/n?" Kenny asks with a genuine hope that you were truly fine.

You nod and chuckle, "Mhm, I'm fine. I can assure you that I'm completely fine." But deep down, you knew you weren't.

"I'm sorry y/n, I would love to do anything for you but i have to finish something up. If that's okay, you could stay for a little and I could drive you?" Aj asks with a little suggestive tone and everyone was practically begging you to stay with how they looked at you.

"As much as I don't wanna miss out on the opportunity to spend more time with you guys, I really want answers from Niko–"

"So does that mean I could drive you?" Sharky immediately speaks and you roll your eyes and nod with a chuckle.

"Alright let's go."

—

Sharky offered to stay at his car and wait for you and you say that it was alright if you could get a cab as a way to your apartment but he kept on insisting and you couldn't say no.

Now you could feel the anger rising as you walked to his apartment, entering the apartment with your spare key, angry with how Niko had just left you there. How did he even dare to do such thing?

When you storm towards the living room, you see Niko laid out on the couch, doing some work on his laptop.

"Seriously? You left me there? Did you forget about me?" You speak so loud you were sure that the neighbors might've heard, but you couldn't careless. You just wanted an apology in any sort of way.

He lazily shrugs and keeps his eye on the screen, and you could pinpoint the anger from the way he clenched his jaw at your voice.

You could feel your heart shatter at his action because he's never been like this. "Niko what–" You take a pause since you could feel the tears almost appearing from the way your voice cracked, and you most definitely didn't want to let him see you cry.

Once he's heard the voice crack, he immediately looks up with a hint of worry in his eyes, but it quickly disappears once he's seen that you weren't crying, immediately looking back down.

"What is this? What are you doing? Why are you acting like this? " The last sentence clearly sounded desperate.

When you didn't receive an answer, you shut the laptop aggressively and take it from him, setting it aside.

"I want to have a real conversation. Not a one sided one." You say, silently pleading for him to look at you or say anything. But he doesn't even acknowledge you, he just looks at the floor with a clenched jaw.

"Niko, you're hurting me. Where is all of this coming from? Look at me or just say anything, please." You could feel your heart beating rapidly at his silence treatment, not wanting this relationship to go any wrong. Words spilled out from your mouth like it was nothing, it was as if your heart longed for any response and therefore it formed the words automatically.

He scoffs disrespectfully at you, despite the way his heart hurt at the mention of you telling him that he was hurting you, "Sharky."

"What? Sharky? What about him?" You immediately respond, clinging on to whatever words he was going to say.

Truth to be told, you couldn't bare the thought of him leaving you. You were attached and in love with him to say the least.

"I really don't get how you can't see how he's basically flirting with you 24/7. I'm tired of it, and im extremely tired of you acting like you can't see it either. My girlfriend's surely not an idiot, is she?" His last sentence seemed a bit harsh, by the way he winced and cringed at his own words.

His eyes finally met yours and you could pinpoint the change in them. There was no warmth in them or the love he had for you like he always had whenever he looked at you, and you could confirm that you could feel the anxiety and fear kicking in.

"No, no, no. Sharky– Sharky will always be my friend. He does not like me and I assure you that I don't like him either." You say with your voice wavering and you shake your head as speak.

You grab Niko's hand, desperately trying to send him the message. What made it even worse, is the cold look he sent you. It seemed as if he was bored of this conversation and that he didn't want to even speak or continue.

He chuckles coldly at you, "You look really pathetic trying to convince me that theres nothing seriously going on between you and Sharky."

Your eyebrows furrow deeply and your mouth is slightly open at his words that stung you, "Because there's isn't anything going on." You say aggressively, feeling like you were talking to a crackhead who couldn't get his thoughts straight.

He rolls his eyes and slightly chuckles in a mocking manner, "Never knew that my own girlfriend is pathetic at thinking I wouldn't catch on."

Your mouth is open slightly at his harsh words that just kept coming more and more," What are you saying? I would never do such thing. Niko please–" He takes his hands off of yours and gets up from where he was seated.

He seems to be going to his bedroom, but before you could even go in to try and convince him, bam. The door was shut right infront of your face.

You were a taken aback by this, confusion and mostly hurt that he'd think of you doing something like that. You could feel your cheeks becoming stung by tears, looking around the shared apartment.

"Niko, I swear to God if you don't come out and apologize. We're over." Your voice was louder than you had thought, dead silence at the other side of the door. You let out a frustrated cry at his stubbornness when he doesn't get out.

Now tears fell like they've been held in for too long and You knew Aj was probably on his way so it was probably better if you just left, even though each step you took towards the door completely hurt you.

The plans you had for tonight with him was spending time with him just dining out and continuing the rest of the night in his room for since you both had been busy for weeks.

But now the only thing you were looking forward was how you were going to move on after this. Was it just confirmed that the both of you were done for?

You didn't understand what he was trying to do, it was as if he was trying to find an excuse to just leave you heartbroken and miserable.

You open the door a little too quick, while you walk faster by each second that passed by.

It was getting hard to breath. Your cries were heard through the halls, your brain telling you to suck it in. Your crying was getting loud as you felt a panic attack was close, you didn't feel good at all.

Your hand made its way to your mouth to stop yourself from crying even louder, the other pushing the elevator button.

Come run after me, Niko. Please come I really need you. You silently beg inside your head. You wait for the elevator, tears still finding its way out.

But you knew he wasn't going to come, it was his plan all along to push you away, at least that's what you had thought. You just needed to leave, you felt like the walls were starting to close on you.

And now the world was going to see you as the pathetic, stupid, 'y/n y/l/n who thought she could ever have a healthy relationship.'

—————————————

[wynonnahyde]

The saloon was lively, most if not everyone dancing, drinking, or socializing. Two younger people had recently been wed, so naturally, it was time to celebrate the new couple. Wynonna sat at the end of the bar, smiling as she watched everyone dance around, a smile on her lips. It had been a little, at least in her time, about 3 weeks since her horrid week. She wasn’t healed by any means, but she felt much better than she did, just had to be careful as any harsh hit to her chest or stomach would make her collapse.

She wasn’t drinking, which came as a surprise to most people, rather, slowly eating some chips that the saloons owner had made himself. She hummed along to the song on the piano, smiling at a few people as they passed by.

Later into the night, a younger man sped into the building, eyes darting around until they landed on Wynonna, speaking to an older woman. He quickly passed the crowd, excusing himself as he intervened.

“A—are you Wynonna Hyde—? Sand-spider?” He asked, his voice trembling.

Wynonna looked at him, a little off guard as she looked at the boy. “Yeah? Why?”

“There’s been a sighting out by the towns watering hole, where we all put our horses during off season, and sheriff has gone missing.”

“Missing-? How long?” She was shocked, no one went missing, especially the guy who uses his gun more than handcuffs.

“4 hours now, he said not to get you, but I heard a yell up by there and— well you catch the bad guys! I’m just a watcher at the jail!” He rambled, hands shaking as he looked into her eyes.

She hesitated, but sighed, nodding as she stood to her feet, nodding to the woman as a goodbye as she started to walk away, the boy following.

They exchanged more details, apparently a guy who was a little to snake like was out by the watering hole, seeming to be waiting. “And when the sheriff left, I heard a yell and couldn’t find him! So—so I came to get you..”

“…I—I’ll see what I can do, okay kid? If I ain’t back you get some people to come looking.”

The boy nodded, watching the woman start to walk off, her shadow disappearing into the darkness. It was a moonless night, visibility was low, very low, meaning you couldn’t really see who was around. Her steps were slow, and quiet, scanning the area as she slowly made it to the watering hole.

“…Sheriff? Jacob sent me out here, said you was missing?” It was silent, no reply. “…Timothy? You out here?”

Yet again, there was so reply, making the hair on her neck stand up. She was looking at the water, the towns watering hole, somehow, the water stayed, it was deep, about 6 feet, some people said it was an old burry sight that got abandoned, then filled. Everyone sent their horses down here during off season, when there was no work to be done.

“…fuckin’ hell man, c’mon don’t do this, Mary and Andrew just got married, we don’t need a death…” she sighed, going to step back to walk more down west, before a snap of a twig filled the air, her senses firing as she turned her head, seeing Timothy standing by the waters edge, staring her down. “Shit! Jesus, Timothy you scared me straight a moment…are you okay? You look like you’ve done seen a ghost.”

“I should’ve killed you when I had Johnny.” He simply said, his voice calm, cold.

“…what…?” She took a moment to reply, raising an eyebrow. “…Johnny died at the hanging tree, his guts were ripped open, what the fuck do you mean by that.”

“You stupid woman,” he spat, stepping closer, hands twitching. “My daddy spent his entire life tracking your family and his, just to die three day shy of your wedding?! and you all get off SCOTT FREE”

“Johnny was turning his life around, that man was fixing what his family had done! Your daddy wouldn’t leave us alone! We had never done anything!”

“Exactly why your father paid me to end it, you were to valuable, if I caught you two, I would have taken the entire ring down!”

“…what.”

She stood still, staring at the man as he started to chuckle, rolling his eyes. “What..? You thought it was a random man? Idiot!”

“…you…no. You—you helped me take him down from the tree, you helped me keep his guts inside.” She said lowly, breathing slowly.

He scoffed, eyes rolling as he held a sick grin, “you did the easy part in killing your daddy for me.”

Wynonna just blinked slowly, her hand moving to her side, grazing the fan, and handing on the handle of her gun, her breathing turning ragged. “You…fucking…BASTARD.”

She ran at him, drawing her gun, which caught the man by surprise as he stumbled back, a few gunshots ringing out. They struggled, Wynonna blinded by pure rage as she tried her hardest to shoot the man, a few bullets raining into the air.

“YOU FUCKING BASTARD. HE FAUGHT SO HARD TO MAKE A LIFE FOR US. WE WERE GOING TO HAVE A CHILD. WE WERE GOING TO BE SAFE DOWN IN WASHINGTON.” She screamed, her voice ragged, a guttural yell.

The man simply grunted, looking for a way to get her down, the two ending up in the shallow end of the waters. He let out a yell, and hit her ribs, causing her to gasp, loosing air as she fell to her knees. The next moments were a blur as he struggled, shoving her down into the water with a splash. She let out a yell, trying to grab a breath of air before her head went under the water.

His hands wrapped around her throat, held down under water, she fought, she really did fight hard, but she was loosing air. She clawed, she hit, she kicked, she tried to get up, nothing. Her head was getting fuzzy, her eyes hurting, her chest begging for air. She inhaled, water rushing into her lungs as she gagged. She felt weak, her mind slowly starting to fade, and in her final moments, her thoughts were only one person, the one person she made a promise too. Rider, Doll, Juniper, June,

Junie.

[spirit-lanterns]

FAST AND FURIOUS 2

synopsis: you catch the eye of the infamous street racer (part 1 here)

featuring: jingliu, yukong, tingyun, himeko, natasha

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: (street racer AU) sub! afab fem reader (jingliu, yukong, himeko, natasha), dom! afab fem reader (tingyun). strap ons, fing.ering, lap s.ex, s.ex while driving, cunnilingus, dirty talk, mentions of car crash and injury (natasha), blood (natasha), some established relationships, illegal street racing, may be ooc.

art credits: initial D

JINGLIU

Street Racer Jingliu! Who is an urban legend in the street racing community, notorious for not caring about the safety of others, and doing whatever it takes to cross that finish line. She had taken a hiatus from racing a couple years back, but now she was back and ready to instill fear in the new generation of racers…

Street Racer Jingliu! Who is intimidating when she pulls up to the starting line. Many of the racers gawking at her in shock, as the infamous legend herself gets out of the car to scan the crowd. When she spots you in the midst of the watchers, her lips curve to a smirk, and she walks over to you to tilt your chin up at her. “Looks like I came to race on a good day…” she whispers, voice husky from years of retirement. “I hope to see you at the finish line.”

Street Racer Jingliu! Who proves to be a brutal competitor in terms of actually racing, as she’s fast, agile, but worst of all, dangerous. She knew what she was doing, potentially risking her life and others on the road, but she didn’t care. Her eyes are a burning, crazy orange that leaves you thinking of her while you watch, and you can’t help but silently root for her as she narrowly evades tumbling off a bridge and soaring down into a ditch. 

Street Racer Jingliu! Who gets called crazy, insane, and absolutely psychotic. But you can’t help but fall in love with that as she screeches past the flags and stops inches away from where you were standing. Any longer and she would’ve run you over, but she wouldn’t let that happen, after all, you were too pretty to be killed <;3 

Street Racer Jingliu! Who walks up to you and slides her sunglasses off, staring at you with those beautiful, burning eyes of hers. “You’re the only one who seemed to be rooting for me,” she hums, gravelly voice sending shivers down your spine, “What a…surprisingly loyal fan you are.”

Street Racer Jingliu! Who couldn’t care less about the way the crowd boos at her for almost injuring the other racers. Her eyes  are solely focused on you, as she wraps a gloved arm around your waist. “I think I’m ready for another round, care to race with me?” She asks with a grin, pulling you into her car and revving the engine up until it sounded like a roar. 

Street Racer Jingliu! Who has you in her lap as she speeds through the highway with your pretty legs draping over hers. Thick, rimmed, strap on plunging into your walls, as she tries to give you the ride of your life (literally). All the while driving at dangerously high speeds. 

Street Racer Jingliu! Who has your heart hammering and your adrenaline pumping, fucking you with her cock as she multitasks driving and pushing you towards an orgasm before she reaches the finish line. She’s racing two races at the moment, and she intends on winning them both, eager to claim her prize of a second victory, and your cum staining the leather of her pants. 

Street Racer Jingliu! Who soars past the finish line just as you cream all over the strap, one hand gripping your ass before she murmurs “Looks like I won again” into your ear and delivers a tiny spank. She groans at the way you rest so perfectly in her lap, and she can’t wait to take you home with her for the rest of the evening. 

YUKONG

Street Racer Yukong! Who is a retired street racer that is greatly admired within the community. She is pretty much everyone’s role model, so when she pulls up to the starting gate in that memorable, yet legendary vehicle, everyone goes apeshit. Completely in awe at the sight of the legend before them, as many start to grab snacks to watch the race of a lifetime…

Street Racer Yukong! Who is a little rusty when it comes to racing against youngsters, but once she gets back into the rhythm of it, it’s like second nature. She’s so unknowingly charismatic that all the fangirls in the crowd seem to love her, yet there’s only one she has her eyes on, and that’s you. The cutest, sweetest girl she’s ever had the pleasure of meeting, as you were the one she used to screw in the backseat of her car back when she was a rookie. 

Street Racer Yukong! Who’s maturity while racing is a dreamboat for many of her fans. They all admire how calm and composed she could be, as she narrowly avoids a crash on one of the busiest highways. Everyone is anxious for the safety of their beloved Yukong, but you know better. Instead, trusting that she knows what she’s doing, as you’ve ridden with her (and on her) countless of times.

Street Racer Yukong! Who sees you cheering her on in the stands and smiles softly at the sight. No matter how old you both get, you will always be her number one fan. Evident with how you always wore her old racing jacket, as it was the one she gave to you after a rather passionate night spent in the backseat of her car. (It always smelled like her whenever you wore it, so you’ve always kept it on you whenever the time was appropriate)

Street Racer Yukong! Who decides to greet you at the stands for old times sake, pulling you in for a winning kiss, and nearly lifting you off the ground with how happy she was to see you. “I missed you…” she says in that gruff, husky, voice of hers. “I want to celebrate with you for just a little while longer…”

Street Racer Yukong! Who is impossible to say no to as she drives you down to the hotel she was staying at with eagerness to see you naked again. It’s been…so long since she’s seen you naked beneath her, and she hopes to see more of you after this exchange as she is now back into street racing.

Street Racer Yukong! Who has you bent over her hotel bed with a strap on pounding into your insides. Where she stashed it, you had no idea, but you found yourself moaning in ecstasy, as the familiar pace of Yukong’s hips slamming mercilessly had you all nostalgic. Tears building up in your eyes, as you missed the feeling of her cock ramming so deep in you…

Street Racer Yukong! Who grunts like an animal in heat before lifting your legs up off the bed and slamming back into you brutally. “Goodness…you feel amazing…” she groans, already missing the feeling of being by your side for all those years. “I can’t leave you alone again… you’re mine. Mine.”

Street Racer Yukong! Who doesn’t leave in the morning this time, and instead stays curled up by your side by the time you wake up. Gruff, messy, bed head tickling your neck from behind, as she whispers “Looks like I’m staying with you, dear,” into your ear before kissing it affectionately. 

TINGYUN

Street Racer Tingyun! Who is a rookie in the street racing community that looks up to her idol: Yukong. She’s a little inexperienced, somewhat cocky, but that doesn’t stop her from winning a few races before going up to the big leagues. She looks very out of place when lined up besides the other famous racers, but you can’t help but notice her as she just looked so cute standing there! So innocent and so…unprepared.

Street Racer Tingyun! Who almost crashes several times when the race begins. It’s a miracle how she managed to not get into any accidents, as Tingyun was definitely not prepared to handle the brutality of the other racers. You felt bad when you saw the panicked look on her face, but her panic eventually paid off, as through some miracle, she won. 

Street Racer Tingyun! Who is stunned silent when she’s the one who makes it across the finish line. Her eyes wide with shock as the crowd cheers for the rookie who managed to outspeed the pro racers. It takes her a moment to recollect herself, blinking in disbelief before Tingyun leaps into the air with excitement. “I did it! I actually won!” She exclaims, suddenly getting her cockiness back. “That’s a legendary race for sure!”

Street Racer Tingyun! Who’s ego gets stroked even more when you walk up behind her with a bouquet of flowers in your hand. She’s stunned speechless at the sight of a cute girl delivering her flowers, so she gets half the mind to flirt with you a little (even though you knew she was bluffing) “Oh? Are these for me?” She giggles smugly, taking the bouquet from you with gratitude. “So cute, say…how do you feel about you and I getting out of here, hmm? I’m sure I can show a pretty girl like you a good time.” 

Street Racer Tingyun! Who doesn’t catch the way you roll your eyes at her request, as you did not like how smug she got after winning just one race in the big leagues. You figured you’d have to humble her one way or another, so you smirked and agreed to her proposal. “Great!” Tingyun grins, holding you by the waist and leading you back to her car. “I definitely know how to show a girl a good time…”

Street Racer Tingyun! Who did not expect to have her legs spread over your shoulders, tongue lapping vigorously against that drooling of cunt hers, while pressed against the hood of her car in a parking lot. She was expecting her to please you, not the other way around! Yet here she was, a moaning, crying, mess, trying to hold in her sobs as she gripped your hair with her fingers.

Street Racer Tingyun! Who is panting so heavily while her clit gets pushed against by your nose. Feather light kisses causing her to scream, before wrapping her legs even tighter around your face. “Oh…g-god…!” She whimpers and tries to keep herself calm but to no use. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to go!” 

Street Racer Tingyun! Who you can’t help but giggle at as you thrust your tongue into her walls to taste all that she could offer. She was so embarrassed at the way the tables turned, but you didn’t care, as you wanted more of her cum dripping down your chin and staining the leather of her pants.

Street Racer Tingyun! Who lets out a squeal as she squirts all over your face in ecstasy. She’s trembling and shivering from the way you blow on her clit, and pretty soon she’s begging for more. “Oh…please come home with me later. You’re really good at this…”

HIMEKO

Street Racer Himeko! Who is like a teacher to many of the younger street racers of this current generation. Known as one of the biggest rivals to Street Racer Kafka, Himeko is another legend amongst the community, due to her infamous races and ability to adapt to any situation quickly.

Street Racer Himeko! Who looks so effortlessly beautiful as she sits on the hood of her expensive, yet luxurious looking car. Everyone is taking photos and yelling for her attention, but she merely takes a sip of her coffee and ignores them while waiting for you. You’re the only girl in the world she would ever pay attention to, so you get treated like a VIP as you walk up beside her and join her by her car.

Street Racer Himeko! Who draped her large coat over your figure and opened the door for you like a gentlewoman. “Let’s go on a ride,” she says with a smile, treating the race like a leisurely drive as she was not at all nervous for the ride of a lifetime. “I promise to hold back a little for you, darling.”

Street Racer Himeko! Who keeps one hand protectively on your thigh while speeding at dangerous speeds down the road. She chuckles when you complain she’s going too fast, so she eases up on the speed now that she was so ahead. “Too fast for you, love?” She hums while squeezing your thigh. “I can always slow it down, we’re way ahead anyways.”

Street Racer Himeko! Who looks so ethereal as she rolls down the windows and lets the wind blow through her hair. She looked so…relaxed as she held you by her side, one hand on the wheel before completing the race on one smooth glide.

Street Racer Himeko! Who couldn’t care less about the praise she received from the crowd outside, as she only wanted to bring you home and claim her reward for winning yet another race. “Let’s go home, love. I’m exhausted and I want nothing more than to have you crying my name…” she whispers, pulling you away from the crowd and flash photography. 

Street Racer Himeko! Who sees the needy look in your eyes and groans “fuck it” under her breath before pulling you back into her car to finger you. She uses her coat as a makeshift bed for you, and eagerly plunges her long, smooth fingers into your dripping cunt. 

Street Racer Himeko! Who smothers your neck in kisses as the smell of new cars and perfume fills your nose with comfort. Himeko was always gentle and loving with you, despite doing something like illegal street racing on the side. She plants a crimson kiss on the side of your cheek, and thrusts two more her fingers into your walls. “It’s alright if you get my seats dirty,” she chuckles into your ear, “I wouldn’t mind any stains if it’s you.”

Street Racer Himeko! Who succeeds in her wants as she has your cum sliding down her arm and dripping all over her seats. She lets out a delighted hum and licks each digit clean, helping you slide up your panties. “Get your shorts back on, doll, I have reservations at a hotel across town. I’m not done with you just yet…”

NATASHA

Street Racer Natasha! Who is a retired street racer that now works as a medic for injuries, crashes, and anything dangerous that happens on the road. She used to be a racer that taught Seele how to race, but due to growing older and having other responsibilities to take, Natasha retired and led a life of healing and recovery.

Street Racer Natasha! Who may be old, but definitely still has some of that racer energy left inside her. She’s quick and efficient when dealing with injuries, and the first time you saw her, she was pulling you out of a crashed car and checking your face for any cuts. “Easy there, don’t worry…” she hums in a comforting tone, “You’re just a little shaken up, I’ve got you…”

Street Racer Natasha! Who suddenly hoists you up in her arms and carries you bridal style to her car to take you to the infirmary. You had no idea that the medic was so strong and jacked, but you figured she had to carry people out on a daily basis, so perhaps this was just another day for her. 

Street Racer Natasha! Who speaks so gently and softly to you before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get that pretty face all patched up, hm?” She chuckles softly, placing you in the back of her car with ease. “Don’t worry, I’m a doctor with quite the skilled fingers.” she says with a smile, completely unaware of the dirty implications she just implied…

Street Racer Natasha! Who’s fingers are so soft and tender as they rub some gauze against your forehead to clean the bloodied cuts. Her face is extra close to yours for maximum efficiency, yet you can’t help but think she’s staring at your lips despite cleaning the wound on your head. “Are you staring at my lips?” You ask in a hushed voice, Natasha casting you a smile before patting your head. “I am. They’re very beautiful.” 

Street Racer Natasha! Who decided to screw it and place a tender kiss against your lips, caging you in on the patient’s bed. “My sweet patient deserves a reward for letting me bandage her so smoothly,” she hums, eyes growing dark with lust. “Let me spoil you, my dear…”

Street Racer Natasha! Who lets you cling onto her as she fingers your tight, needy hole with some lube. Her thumb presses your clit like a button, and you find yourself resting your head on her shoulder and whimpering against her neck. “Just like that…” she whispers, groaning a little when she feels you clench, “So tight…nngh…you like how I finger you, hmm? Naughty girl…”

Street Racer Natasha! Who slaps your clit with her palm and smirks at the way you suck her in the more she talks dirty. “Oh? It seems you get wetter the more I talk,” she chuckles, leaning in close to your ear. “What a good little racer you are…”

Street Racer Natasha! Who thinks your injuries are too serious to send you home just yet, even though they were just minor cuts and scrapes. She makes the decision to keep you resting in her infirmary for at least another night, resting in her bed while she stuffs her fingers up your cunt all night long. She has to make sure you’re well rested and healed for next week’s race after all...

[mayadarlings]

Good things happen to those who wait.

—★! Tags: NSFW, MDNI, AFAB! Slow?? Sex toys, a man way too big, size kink. Fingering.

★- Part 1 here!! Part 2 here!!

You regret missing it. The night GD streamed, you were stuck at work and time was not on your side. Even if you managed to show up, you doubted you could compete with those who had bottomless wallets for donations. By the time you got home, the stream had ended and a lucky winner had claimed their prize, leaving you frustrated at being outdone by someone with more money to spare.

After that, there was a complete lack of communication. No live streams, no new videos. Total silence for five long months. You couldn't help but constantly check his page, refreshing it so frequently that your browser started suggesting it the moment you typed in his name. It was necessary; what if he suddenly returned and started streaming while you weren't paying attention? That would be unacceptable. So you remained his dedicated watcher, eagerly anticipating his return to once again capture your heart and even cause some inevitable arousal.

With no new posts to peruse, you exhausted all of the content already shared on his page. His previous streams and videos became a regular part of your nightly routine – laptop open, legs spread, fingers working their magic as you reached climax again and again. But in just a matter of weeks, this routine grew stale and your fingers failed to satisfy you. You craved something real, something similar to the man who had become your obsession.

On your day off, you made a choice to be daring and try something completely new. Not too far from where you live, there was a sex shop with its bold black exterior and eye-catching logo, "Don't ask, Won't tell." You never thought you'd ever have a reason to step foot inside until today. Trying to remain inconspicuous, you dressed casually in a gray hoodie and shorts, praying that no one from your complex would spot you as you wandered around the small store.

You quickly located the Dildo section in the far corner of the store, it was strategically placed away from prying eyes, giving you the freedom to browse without feeling self-conscious. The selection was overwhelming; there were dildos of all shapes, sizes, and colors that you didn't even know existed. A row of bright and vibrant toys caught your eye, ranging from hot pink to deep purple. Upon closer inspection, you noticed that some were smaller than others and angled differently - some leaning more to the right or left. Curious, you read the label below that simply read "beginners." Were these meant for beginners? You couldn't help but feel a little cocky; surely you could handle more than just beginner-level toys.

Your gaze drifted down to the shelf below, where a collection of dildos labeled as "intermediate" caught your eye. They were all around 5 inches long, a decent size, and you found yourself reaching out to touch a deep blue one that fit perfectly in your palm. But upon closer inspection, it wasn't the right one. It wasn't like his - GD's. You needed something that would remind you of him.

So you moved on to the last row, where the sign in bright red read "Expert". These dildos were flesh-colored and ranged from 6-8 inches in size. They looked almost identical to his. You picked up a realistic-looking one with a caucasian skin tone, measuring at 7 pushing 8 inches. It was thick and veiny, standing tall and proud unlike the ones in the first row. This was the one you wanted - it was as close as you could get to experiencing him.

You approach the cashier, trying your best to avoid making eye contact with her. But her questioning look, as if asking "are you sure about this?", burns your face with embarrassment. The transaction is completed hastily, almost as if the cashier wants you out of the store before it becomes too awkward. You grab the discreet black bag from her hands and make a hasty exit.

You let out a deep sigh as you leave the shop, knowing all that was left to do was walk back to the apartment. It was a simple twenty-minute trek, maybe twenty-five if you got unlucky and had to wait for a red light at the stopwalk. You started on your way, clutching the shopping bag tightly, afraid that passerby's might try to peer inside. As you rounded the corner, a single raindrop landed on your head, followed by more until it was pouring without warning.

The unexpected downpour caught you off guard with little time to react. You were positive that the forecast called for clear skies, so you didn't bother bringing any protection. As droplets of water hit your skin, your eyes dart around in search of shelter. Finally, you spot the bus stop with its small roof offering some relief. With bare ankles splashing through puddles, you hurry towards it.

Taking shelter at the bus stop was a much better option than attempting to walk in this downpour. It was already raining hard enough to make a twenty-minute walk feel like eternity, and you would have been completely soaked if you had attempted it. Now, at least, you could relax a bit, knowing that you were somewhat protected and dry. All you had left to do was wait for the storm to pass. As you take out your phone from your pocket to check the weather app, a sudden shadow looms over you and a large figure squeezes into the small space next to you.

You quickly lifted your gaze from your phone and had to tilt your head back to meet the imposing figure who squeezed into the already cramped area. It was a man, who paid no attention to you whatsoever. He was wearing a black hoodie with the hood pulled tightly over his head and a black surgical mask covering his face except for his piercing brown eyes. Those same eyes locked onto yours as he noticed you staring at him.

Your body tensed up, and you averted your gaze, avoiding looking at him altogether. You couldn't help but think, "Could he be any more intimidating?"

The two of you stood next to each other in utter quietness for what felt like an eternity. He kept his gaze fixed ahead while you found yourself inexplicably fascinated by your own shoes. A sudden, loud splash caught your attention and you looked up just in time to see a group of children running by, gleefully splashing and playing in the puddles.

The combination of mud and water was heading straight towards you, ready to create a messy situation. But before it could hit you, he smoothly stepped in front and took the full force of the splash. He grunted as the liquid hit him, but he shook his head and glanced at the kids who seemed oblivious to the mess they had caused.

You were taken aback by his sudden actions, and you couldn't help but look back and forth between him and the mess on his previously spotless hoodie. The stain was large, surely leaving a big wet spot. "I- I mean, you didn't have to do that." You cursed yourself for saying the wrong thing as he raised an eyebrow. "Damn, that’s not what I meant."

He shakes his head and lets out a low chuckle. " 'S okay."

As soon as he spoke, you froze in place. His voice was unmistakably deep and one that you had heard before. You couldn't help but wonder if you were overreacting. Out of the corner of your eye, you observed him as he attempted to wipe away some moisture on his hoodie with a handkerchief. As far as you could tell, there were no visible tattoos on him.

Apart from that, you couldn't help but sympathize with him. He didn't have to do this at all. It was refreshing to see chivalry still existed, and the least you could do was assist him. "Do you live close by?" you inquire, causing him to pause and turn his gaze towards you.

They say that everything in life is predetermined by fate, and it seems like fate had a plan for you when you asked that seemingly innocent question. Little did you know, your simple act set off a chain reaction of events. He lived far away, but you couldn't let him go on with that stain on his hoodie. So after the rain stopped, you brought him back to your apartment complex and showed him to the laundry room.

“Just give me a moment to grab my detergent. The stuff the landlord gives us is terrible.” You told him, motioning for him to take a seat on the nearby chair, which he did without saying a word. You quickly went up to your apartment and threw the bag on the couch before heading into the bathroom to retrieve the detergent. As you headed back downstairs, the scene in front of you left you speechless.

The man had removed his jacket and tossed it into the laundry, his back tense and facing away from you. He was dressed in a grey t-shirt that revealed his defined forearms. You couldn't help but recognize the tattoos decorating his skin. Could it really be him?

You had to act casual, not let your excitement show. You didn't want to seem like some creep and scare him off like a desperate fool. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you approach him with a gentle smile and present the bottle of detergent. "This will make your hoody spotless and leave it smelling amazing."

He turns his masked face towards you, revealing dirty blonde hair and a weathered complexion. It's not the kind of wear and tear that comes with age, but something else. "You have a staring habit," he says bluntly, catching you off guard. You didn't even realize you were staring at him.

You feel like you're about to jump out of your skin, but you manage to compose yourself. "Sorry," you apologize quietly as you approach the washing machine. You pour in a generous amount of detergent for his jacket and close the lid with a firm click. "The washers here aren't great, so if you want, you can come up to my apartment until it's finished." Normally, you wouldn't invite a total stranger into your home, hell you wouldn't have even let him see which complex you lived in, but your curiosity gets the best of you.

He stands there with his arms crossed, scanning you from head to toe. His intense gaze makes you feel exposed, as if he can see right through you. "I'll only be here until it's finished," he says in a smooth yet cautious tone. After all, you are a stranger. He understands that and so do you.

With a nod, you lead him up to your apartment, locking it behind you once you step in last. He seems to pause, taking it all in, glancing around at every little thing but not touching.

After a brief nod of your head, you guide him up to your apartment and lock the door behind you as soon as you both enter. He takes a moment to survey the space, his eyes scanning every detail but not daring to touch anything. You set your keys down on the kitchen counter while he settles onto the couch, trying to get comfortable. His gaze falls upon the black bag resting nearby, and although he doesn't reach for it, he does lean in closer to see what's inside.

You step out, and he's back to his usual self, sitting motionless as if nothing had happened. You realize you completely forgot about the bag in your hand; it was an easy oversight. Smiling at him, you take a seat in the armchair across from him, but he catches you off guard. "You seem like the last person who would shop at that kind of store."

As he speaks, you feel a pang of confusion and want to confront him about his words. However, your attention is diverted by the black bag you left out in the open. Your face flushes with embarrassment and your jaw drops, but you're unable to utter any words or even come up with an excuse.

His smirk grew as he observed your flustered reaction. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes gave it away. "I was just joking, didn't think it would make you so shy."

You huff and lean back in the chair, feeling defensive. You can't bring yourself to meet his gaze as you say, "I'm not shy. I just…"

"Just?" He teased, casually draping an arm over the couch.

Feeling self-conscious, you defended yourself with a shy tone and blushing cheeks. “It’s perfectly normal to want a change.” you explained.

All he does is hum, but his eyes are fixed on you. Those damn eyes that seem to see right through you. "A little big don't you think?" He nods towards the bag.

You widen your eyes in surprise and finally gather the courage to confront him directly. "That's quite a bold topic to bring up with someone you barely know," you say.

"Coming from the woman who allowed a stranger into her home without even knowing my name, that's rich, love."

Touché.

“So whats your name then?”

“Simon.”

“Mines is y/n”

The two of you began to talk or rather you talked up a storm. As you spoke, he sat there and actually listened. Despite being the one to do most of the talking, he let you vent about work for almost ten solid minutes without interrupting. All he did was nod along, showing that he was truly paying attention.

You asked about his job and he wasn't very forthcoming, only mentioning that he traveled frequently. You ventured to ask his age and discovered he was twenty-eight years old. He didn't seem eager to talk about himself, so you changed the subject out of respect for his privacy.

He wasn't exactly the most exciting person, but he had his moments. Every so often, he'd tell a cheesy dad joke that made you giggle. You loved seeing the sparkle in his eyes whenever he cracked a joke. The two of you were having such a good time together that before you knew it, an hour had passed and you could hear the familiar beep of the washing machine downstairs. "Hold on, I'll grab your hoodie," you say as you get up and step out of the apartment for a moment.

He sat alone, quietly anticipating your return. By chance, the two of you had crossed paths, a coincidence he was grateful for because… he knew who you were. He noticed you struggling to make connections in your mind while he had already recognized you.

He had come across your profile on his streaming platform. You were a new fan, which he could tell based on your activity. How? Your profile picture was of yourself, and you never participated in the chat or donated. This piqued his curiosity about you, but he didn't bother reaching out at the time. However, when he saw you waiting at the bus stop in the same city as him, he took a chance and decided to approach you.

Now he was currently sitting in your apartment while you were busy downstairs. His gaze kept returning to the toy inside the bag, a flimsy and unnecessary item in his opinion. Why would someone like you need a toy? Surely you had a boyfriend, right? He heard your footsteps approaching and quickly turned to watch as you entered the room. "Why the toy?" he asked curiously.

You approached him and handed him his jacket, just cleaned and now carrying a hint of lavender. He brought up the dildo again, but you were feeling more assured this time. "As I said before, I wanted to experiment with something different."

He snorted in disbelief at those words, reaching over and holding up the black bag. "Why would you need this when you have a boyfriend, right? You do have one, don't you?" Simon secretly wished that you didn't have a boyfriend. You were too beautiful to be with someone who couldn't satisfy you.

You feel heat rush to your cheeks as you quickly take the bag from his hand and set it on the ground. "No, I don't have a boyfriend and so what if I have a dildo, what's it to you?”

For the first time, Simon is at a loss for words. He's confused, and even he doesn't understand why he cares so much. What he says next surprises not just you, but himself as well. "I could do better."

How the hell are you supposed to react to that? What would be an appropriate response? Was it meant as a joke, maybe? "Yeah, right, and pigs can fly." You try to rebut with a half-hearted tone, still uncertain of how to handle the situation.

As he sits up, his posture becomes rigid and his gaze locks onto yours. His eyes, a deep brown like icy orbs, possess an inexplicable warmth when focused on you. He takes a moment to assess you, his gaze lingering on your hips before meeting your eyes once more. You can feel the weight of his stare, as if he is trying to read your every thought and emotion. His expression remains stoic but there is an intensity in his eyes that cannot be ignored.

The realization washes over you like a wave, leaving behind a tingling sensation that starts in your toes and travels up your spine. He's serious…actually serious. Your heart races as his intense gaze bores into yours, causing a familiar heat to pool in the pit of your stomach and spread through your body. Your intuition spikes, confirming what your body already knows - there's only one man who can make you feel this way. It's ironic, really, that getting turned on was the only indication that he is the mysterious streamer you've been pining after for so long.

A bead of sweat forms on your forehead as you struggle to maintain a composed exterior, but inside you can't deny the desire that surges through you. Simon practically offered himself on a silver platter, you couldn't let this opportunity slip by. You could feel the tension in the air as he waited for your response. "Prove it then," the words escaped your lips in a rush, betraying your eagerness. But it was too late to take them back now. The anticipation and lust swirling between the two of you was palpable, like electricity in the air. Your pulse quickened as you prepared for what was to come next.

After hearing your confirmation, Simon's eyes darken, their once warm hue turning into a deep and intense shade. He slowly rises from his seat on the couch, his tall frame easily towering over you. Without saying a word, his large hand comes to rest on your hip, gently brushing his thumb in tender circles. His touch brings a sense of warmth that radiates off of him, causing you to tremble slightly. You can feel how gentle he is with you, knowing exactly how to handle you with care and tenderness.

With a firm grip on your waist, he gently guides you onto his lap. His strong thighs support your weight effortlessly, as if you were weightless in his arms. Simon tenderly presses his lips against your neck, his surgical mask now discarded, leaving his warm breath and soft kisses to trail down your neck and over your shoulder. The feeling sends shivers down your spine and causes you to squirm involuntarily, releasing a shaky gasp from your lips.

Desperate to catch a glimpse of his true identity, you strain your neck to see his face, but he squeezes your waist possessively. You felt his warm breath on your neck as he murmured, "You'll get to see if you behave, love." A soft kiss was pressed to the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck, making you whine with need. Despite your curiosity, you couldn't resist the calming effect of his embrace. The need to know his true appearance still lingers, but you trust in his promise and enjoy the moment with him.

His rough hands glide up and down the curves of your body, pressing firmly against your back as he pulls you closer. You can feel his chest rising and falling against you, and you can't ignore the bulge in his pants pressed against your plush ass. Despite the thick fabric of his jeans, you can sense every inch of him. He is just as large and intimidating as you had seen from watching him on screen. Perhaps even too big for you to handle. Simon's hand ventures underneath your hoodie and slips beneath your shirt, his calloused fingers tracing slow circles on your stomach. Though they are rough and coarse, they mold you like soft dough in a baker's hands. You feel like a piece of bread ready to be shaped according to his will.

With a deep sigh of relief, you let your eyes flutter closed, the tension slowly draining from your body. Soft moans escape your lips as his hands work their magic, easing away the stress and bringing a sense of pleasure to every inch of you. Your eyes snap open as one hand ventures underneath the band of your panties and gently strokes between your legs. You can feel the corner of his lips curl up in a confident smirk against the sensitive skin of your neck. "Already so wet," he whispers huskily, making you crave more of his touch.

Simon's fingers glide over your clit, causing it to quiver under his touch. He's exploring, trying to figure out what turns you on. When your body responds with a subtle yearning for more, he applies pressure with his index and middle finger, gently swirling them around your sensitive spot. You inhale sharply, almost unconsciously closing your legs at the sensation of a new hand wandering all over your body.

As Simon's fingers glide over your body, you feel a rush of electricity shoot through you. His touch is tentative at first, exploring the curves and crevices of your skin as if he is mapping out every inch. When he finally reaches your clit, it feels like a firework has been lit inside of you. Heat spreads from the contact point to every nerve ending in your body. You can't help but huff as he presses down with his index and middle finger, creating a slow, tantalizing swirl against your sensitive nub. Your breaths come in quick pants as your body responds to the unfamiliar sensation, arching towards his touch and almost closing up in surprise.

Gently, Simon nudges your thighs apart with his own, a low growl escaping him as he nibbles on your ear, his breath is hot against your skin. “That's a good girl,” he whispers, his voice gruff and full of desire. “Let me take care of you.” His touch is featherlight, teasing and electrifying, making it hard for you to focus on anything else. As one hand wanders up and down your body, the other finds its way to your perky breast, kneading and caressing it gently. Simon is determined to leave no part of you untouched, his actions attacking all of your physical senses at once.

A sharp pinch on your hardened nipple elicits a tiny squeal from you, and he responds by gently kissing your cheek. His lips trail up and down your jawline, providing comfort for your cry. Your slick has already coated his fingers, and it now seeps through not only your shorts but also your panties. He can feel the wet spot on his knee, evidence of your arousal. "Your pretty cunt doesn't get enough attention," he remarks, observing the way you're leaking all over him with a smirk on his face.

He uttered that word, "pretty," in such a raw way that it only made you more aroused. He noticed how wet you were and withdrew his fingers, teasingly waving them in front of your face as you try to catch your breath. "Look at the mess you've made," he says, running his fingers against your lips. You obey and open your mouth, tasting the salty slickness on your tongue.

The vulgarity of his words shot dopamine straight to that lust-filled brain of yours, and you couldn't deny the fluttering arousal that followed. He noticed this and pulled his fingers back from between your legs, holding them up to your face. Your breath came in short gasps as he taunted you with your own slick moisture glistening on his fingertips. "What a mess you made," he said, rubbing his fingers against your lips, encouraging you to open them. You complied eagerly, tasting the tangy saltiness of yourself on your tongue. It only made you want him more.

You suck on his finger, savoring the taste of yourself as your tongue laps at it with eagerness. The taste of yourself lingers on his skin, sweet and intoxicating. Simon's eyes are glued to you, mesmerized by your actions. His pants feel unbearably tight, but he knows he must take things slow and loosen you up before he can have you completely.

“Want me to keep going?” Simon asked in a commanding tone, and when you nodded, he shook his head. "I need words from you, Doll. Tell me what you want."

Your lips feel swollen as you bite down on them, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. But you can't forget your current position and the events that led to it. "I want more Simon, please."

Simon grunts and nods, taking his finger out of your mouth and holding onto your hips with both hands. He guides you to lean against his strong chest, positioning you so you can see his face. His rugged appearance, with a fresh stubble brushing against your soft skin, adds to his appeal. A cut on his nose gives him a rougher look, but it only makes him more attractive. He uses his fingers to collect your wetness and spreads it over your clenched opening. Taking advantage of your distraction, Simon slowly inserts his index finger into your tight hole.

He can't help but groan at the incredible tightness he encounters with just one finger. Your walls squeeze and cling onto him as if your life depends on it. It's a good thing he's taking the time to loosen you up, because if his cock were to experience this level of tightness, he'd have you pinned down on the couch in no time, causing your knees to shake uncontrollably.

You flinch at the sudden intrusion, his large index finger feeling almost intrusive as it slowly enters you. It fills you more than your own fingers ever could. Simon tenderly kisses the side of your lips, reassuring you. "It's okay, I've got you…I've got you." He pauses to make sure you're comfortable before continuing. His fingers continue to explore with care, his thumb gently pressing against your sensitive clit to mask any pain with pleasure. A deep moan escapes him as he feels your walls pulsating around him, making his cock throb in anticipation within his boxers. It begs for attention.

You looked up at him, your eyes blinking rapidly as you flinched when he slowly inserted another finger into your tight and slippery opening. It was a bit too much to handle, but you forced yourself to bear it with clenched teeth and an open mouth. Your cheeks were flushed and your skin had goosebumps all over from the stimulation. The pain gradually turned into a hint of pleasure, causing your nipples to harden in response. His two fingers moved in and out at a slow pace, your whimpers of discomfort slowly transformed into moans of pleasure. Simon quickly found a rhythm, picking up speed until there were wet slurping sounds coming from the movement of his fingers inside you.

The intensity of the moment was immeasurable. The sight of you writhing on his lap, your body shuddering and your walls gripping around his fingers, drove him to grunt loudly in response. He could feel his own cock throbbing and pulsing with desperate need as he watched you shatter before him. With deliberate care, he curved his finger and found a sweet spot deep inside you that made your toes curl and your eyes roll back. Taking note of this, Simon altered his rhythm and started moving faster, his fingers thrusting in and out with an almost frantic pace.

But he didn't forget about that special spot, and each time he hit it, it sent waves of ecstasy through your body, leaving you breathless and craving more. You were starved for touch, and Simon could tell by how eagerly you pushed against his hand, your hips seeking out his fingers no matter how deep they delved inside you. He was playing you like a skilled musician, knowing exactly which strings to pluck to elicit the most intense reactions from your body. And despite only having just met him, Simon seemed to have a better understanding of your own body than yourself.

He knows that adding a third finger now would be too much for you to handle. Instead, he expertly curls both fingers inside of you and uses his other hand to pinch and tweak your swollen clit. The pleasure is overwhelming and has you seeing stars and cumming far too soon. Your whole body arches off of him, your legs trembling like leaves in the wind as your orgasm crashes over you uncontrollably. You weren't given any build up or time to prepare, it came on full force and ready. When you come down from your high, he pulls his fingers out of your quivering core, holding you close with one arm while the other shifts you slightly for comfort. His pants are now slick with your release, evidence of your intense climax.

Mindful of your orgasm, he gently lifts you up and places you onto the plush couch. You sit there for a moment, heart racing and breath catching in your chest. Your mind is dizzy with pleasure, trying to process everything that has transpired. Suddenly, a metallic clank and a loud zip interrupt your thoughts, causing you to open one eye and peer up at Simon.

He stands directly in front of you, blocking out the rest of the world with his strong body. As your eyes trail downward, you come face to face with the very same girthy cock that had captivated you on screen. Up close, it was even more daunting and intimidating than before. Thick veins pulsed along its length, the tip glistening with precum from being pressed against his boxer briefs. His heavy balls hung low and full, adding to the overwhelming image before you.

"You didn't think this was over, did you?"

♡! This one is really long but I don't like how I did the sex scene that much. o(TヘTo). Expect more of Simon talking in the next!!

˚ ✦ . Taglist (People who commented): @theirkenfiles @@crazy-phan-girl13 @forgotten-lego-piece

[brittle-doughie]

Top 10 most obsessive/possessive Cookies in your opinion, go! (excluding White Lily because she would be at the top lmao)

Bro, you did WL dirty lmao.

10. The Tears of the Ocean - Sea Fairy Cookie

While not as easy to aggravate compared to the other Y/N Cookie club members, Sea Fairy is still a legendary and can easily sweep away competition if she chooses to. Fire Spirit is the only cookie she’ll be quick to get aggressive with.

9. Loyal Until the End - Caramel Arrow Cookie

Being a watcher meant Caramel Arrow couldn’t bring herself to harm others so easily, she’s instead incredibly protective of you and WILL draw her bow at threats. Laying a hand on you is a sure fire way to catch a arrow from her. Affogato Cookie is on-sight.

8. Protective Judgement - Dark Cacao Cookie

Like Watcher, like king. Dark Cacao will always have you by his side, he insists. There was something about you that he held dear, something that he needed to protect. He won’t tolerate any mistreatment from you, it’s a quick punishment for the perpetrator. You have your own spot in his quarters, it was a more preferable option to him then having your own room.

7. The Persistent Priestess - Pomegranate Cookie

Pomegranate Cookie’s secondary objective is you, to bring you into the darkness. Your soul was nothing she’s seen before, it was pure, it…was precious. She’ll curse any cookie that gets in her way of having you on the same side, she’ll take anything from you that she can get, with or without your knowledge.

6. The Dancing Danger - Lilac Cookie

Do not be surprised if the cookies you know start falling ill, it may be a sign that Lilac Cookie is watching. He’ll always say it’s for your protection, you never know when these cookies might turn on you, he’s just dealing with a problem before it becomes one. He’s only making them sick, it’s not like he’s straight up crumbling them….yet.

5. The Alluring Beauty - Kumiho Cookie

Normal: Not really being affected by her charms made you a breath of fresh air to Kumiho Cookie, she took a major interest in you with this fact and will try whatever she can to get your attention. Just don’t mind the cookies around you missing their cookie livers, it just meant they were getting too close to you. :)

Heartbreak Route: Kumiho is much more persistent, she had never felt true love until you had been honest with her that day. It aches her heart to know that she passed on your feelings, believing it was because of her charms. She’s more volatile like this, taking any interaction you have with others as potential threats to her goal. Has particular dislike for Blueberry Pie Cookie.

4. Your Best Pal - Croissant Cookie

She has stuck by your side since your first day at the TBD. Croissant Cookie was so happy to see you earn your honors as a handycookie, it meant that you two could spend time together as you fixed things alongside her engineering prowess. It…really blinded her to the fact that other cookies like Coffee Candy or Baguette Cookie had taken a liking to you too, something that she aims to fix by being your best and ONLY pal. Keeps you away from Timekeeper Cookie for obvious reasons.

3. His Only - Fire Spirit Cookie

Fire Spirit Cookie has butted heads with Wind Archer and Sea Fairy Cookie when it comes to you, he needed you more then they did. Fire Spirit..isn’t exactly that popular with other cookies, so having you as a friend was a godsend to him, that a cookie like you would want to associate with him. It’s something he treasures deeply, but tries to pass it off as him going easy on you. Wind Archer and Sea Fairy Cookie can try all they want, but he’ll be extinguished before he’ll allow you to be pried from him.

2. Stinging Shock - Scorpion Cookie

Lilac Cookie at least doesn’t end cookies right away and gives them a chance to regret their decision to be close to you, Scorpion Cookie…won’t be giving them that luxury. If she deems a cookie too much of a hassle, she’ll just remove them from the equation. By the time the cookie has realized what hit them, it will all be too late as she watches them crumble away…she dabbles in poisons, not cures after all. So cookies can have fun finding that cure, if there is any to begin with…

1. Baroness of the Sea - Black Pearl Cookie

Normal Route: Why would Black Pearl Cookie want to sink a cookie so…precious looking? Normally, she’d have you at the bottom of the sea by now, but…she couldn’t bring herself to do this to you…what was this about you that has her feeling like this?! This confusion only makes her frustrated, so she’s keeping you with her until she can pinpoint this feeling. She hopes you enjoy your new home in the depths with her…

Heartbreak Route: “You hastily closed the door before locking it, you knew it would do little to protect you from her, but you needed all the security you could get. You avoided the window, there was no telling if you looked out that window, that two glowing eyes would be staring right back at you in the waters. You could hear the faint sound of crying in the distance, the waters were unhappy, she was unhappy. She knew you were here, it was why she hadn’t just annihilated the Lower City already. She was just waiting for the right opportunity to drag you into the darkness of the water’s depths with her…”

At least Black Pearl Cookie is limited by the water, if she wasn’t, she’d be a true cookie to fear for the readers

But since it wouldn’t complete the ensemble today, there’s at least one cookie that will stop at nothing, absolutely nothing, to make sure you’re hers.

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

You saw it coming

0. The Undying Flower - White Lily Cookie

I had to do it to ya, I’m sorry Anon

Escape Difficulty: Impossible

You sealed your fate after spending time with White Lily Cookie regardless of AU, she’s your biggest cheerleader and unofficial girlfriend who’s quick to poison rivals at the mere chance of them getting friendly with you. She’s near impossible to lose and tends to just appear somewhere close by whether you’re on your own or with other cookies.

She’s an ancient cookie for a reason, few cookies will survive a fight against her, so it’s for the best that your so called “friends” back off from you before she taints their very strawberry jam.

Her only limitation is her other ancient friends, but they’re on thin ice before her paranoia gets to her and she joins in on the conversation. She has earned the title of Y/N Cookie cult leader for a reason.

[airbendertendou]

lonely heart ♡ danny johnson

soulmate au where the first time you have skin to skin contact, your body glows & is stamped w their handprint - it looks like a birthmark.

cw ; typical dbd warnings [blood n gore] ; reader offers ghostie a nude pic in exchange for freedom ; might b ooc but idc <3 ; how danny looks is up to you!

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

——♡——

The heat of the campfire brushes against your face, warming your skin just enough to forget the biting wind. Nancy is beside you, falling asleep where she sits, nodding her head forward before she snaps out of it. Across the fire, Feng is chatting idly with Dwight and Steve, Leon chiming in when he felt like it. 

The bench-like-log you’re sitting on shifts as Nea takes a seat, letting out a huff as she settles. “It’s been quiet recently,” she says, “too quiet if you ask me.”

“I’m a little wary,” you agree. Your eyes scope the woods surrounding the survivors as if someone is going to pop out any second. They wouldn’t, though — the killers kept away from the light of the fire and never wandered any closer than they were allowed. “I wonder if something’s happened.”

Nea rolls her eyes, “we wouldn’t be so lucky.” 

You grin at her pessimism, shoving her lightly with your left shoulder. Nea snickers as Nancy jumps awake once more, jolting in her sleep before yawning. A faded, gray fog settles over the camp and with it, five more survivors make their way around the campfire. You know what that means — a new trial is bound to start at any second.

Readying yourself, your muscles tense and your heart rate picks up, preparing to sprint when the time comes. A darkened, indigo-tinted fog wraps around you — it’s cold and loud as it grasps you from the campfire. You blink and then you’re in Haddonfield. 

Taking in a deep breath, you shuffle quickly to the nearest generator. Feng smiles as she passes by you stealthily, clicking her flashlight at you a few times. The area is terrifyingly quiet — it must mean your killer this round is a watcher. You puff up your cheeks as you mis-wire something, moving away from the generator that’s popped.

A scream echoes in the distance — it sounds too close, so you take off.

Momentarily, you hide in a dusty bedroom. You peek from the walls, not spotting anyone other than the back of Leon’s bulletproof vest. Another look from the room — another scream hits the air. 

Finding another generator was easy enough, but trying to stay hidden was a little more difficult. Your fingers curl and tug on wires, the smell of oil and burning wires hitting you the more you twiddle with them. Claudette hovers beside you, checking to see if you need any healing. Deeming you healthy, she flops to the other side of the generator.

“It’s Ghostface,” she breathes. Looking over her shoulder warily, she gulps as she looks back to you. “Already got Feng and Dwight. Only one gen’s done ; I’ve been hooked.”

You pause your wiring, confusion building up in you. “I haven’t even seen him yet.”

Claudette pauses too, looking over you with a furrowed eyebrow. “If we don’t make it, then win for us. Yeah?”

The generator pops with completion, lighting up for a second and exposing your location. You take off in the opposite direction Claudette did, hopping through a window and out through the backdoor. A flash of black catches your eye — your killer has finally shown himself.

You decide to buy everyone else some time. Hopefully, with a little distraction, a few more generator’s could be fixed.

Sneaking behind him, you let out a small “psst!” and wait for his attention to fall on you. He whips around, white mask greeting you. Walking towards a closet, you point to it a few times. Ghostface looks from the closet, to you, and back again. You wiggle your hand, insisting, “someone’s in there!”

Curiously, the closet door creaks open and Ghostface sees it’s empty. He turns to face you slowly and you’re already holding back giggles. A chase is pursued — something you struggle to do with all of your laughter. He swings his knife haphazardly, not really aiming at you, but not allowing you to get away with your joke either.

“Heheh—ah!” After a successful swing, a cut slashes across your arm. Blood seeps from it as you fall to the ground, laughter still spilling from your lips as you roll around. Ghostface shakes his head down at you — as if he’s disappointed in your joke — before he saunters off to find his next victim. You frown as your laughter comes to a stop, “well, now what?”

Another generator pops and you think this is it. We’re so close to going home — well, what you call home now. Letting out a sigh, you sit up and wrap your new cut with a bandage. You hear a squeal, then a scream. Seems our Ghostie is agitated now ; ready to get the trial over with. 

Chills flow up your spine, a cold sweat breaking out on your forehead as the feeling of being watched overpowers you. That can’t be good. You stiffen, looking through the corner of your eyes without turning your head. Hopefully, you’ll see him with your peripheral vision if he’s near. Otherwise— you didn’t want to think of the other option.

Sneakily, you tip-toe into a nearby house, hoping to wait out the feeling. But, you know you won’t. One thing about Ghostface is once his eyes are set on you, you’re not escaping. A noise catches your attention in the silence — the sound of a latch unlocking. 

The hatch — you must be the only one left. 

Your breath catches in your throat as you creep along the street, keeping an eye out for the hatch. You see it — it’s right in your sights and your heart rate picks up. Shaky breaths escape your parted lips as you glance around the empty street. Coast is clear — time to make a run for it.

Until a white mask phases in out of nowhere, directly on the other side of the hatch.

“Oh, come on,” you whine. Ghostface tilts his head at you, waving his knife teasingly. Your arm stings with the shine of it, bandage now being colored a deep red. “I’m so close to ending this!” He continues to stare your way silently. “Don’t you think this is a little unfair?”

“That’s the game, doll.” You’ve never heard him speak before now. A static-y, modulated voice isn’t what you expect to hear. He creeps closer, no longer directly across from you. “That’s what makes this fun.”

You purse your lips, fingers knotting together at the edge of your edge. “Okay, how about this? You let me take hatch, and I’ll let you take a shirtless picture of me. My face isn’t allowed to be in it, though!”

Ghostface bounced where he stood, an excited giggle echoing in his mask as he immediately agreed. Puffing up your cheeks, you let out a breath before nodding to yourself in encouragement. A polaroid camera has replaced the blood-soaked knife in his hand — even with the weapon gone from sight, dread flushes through you.

“Okay,” you say to yourself, “this is no big deal.”

Without another thought, your fingers clench the end of your shirt and raise it to cover your face. Your skin prickles with the wind, goosebumps raising at the new sensation. With bated breath, you wait to hear the shutter go off — a click, another giggle, the hatch closing ; anything. All that’s there is silence.

And then a leather glove is wrapped around your wrist.

Jumping at the sudden touch, your shirt falls back into place as you take a step back. Only a sliver of skin is free from the glove — just enough for his skin to brush against yours.

A golden sheen takes over you, settling where your bodies meet. In a panic induced state, you’re pushed to the ground as Ghostface hovers over top of you. Shaky, shallow breaths hit his mask as his camera is settled to the right of your head. Slowly, he peels a glove off and reaches for you.

Where his now bare hand meets, a light follows. Right on your wrist, the shape of his fingers is imprinted forever, as if it were a birthmark you were born with. It was supposed to be a myth — a tale shared between hopeless romantic’s. Soulmates weren’t supposed to actually exist.

Except, yours apparently did. In a realm you couldn’t escape ; killing you and your fellow survivors on a continuous loop. You were stuck there — stuck with a murderer as your soulmate until forevermore. 

Ruffled hair is exposed to the wind as Ghostface unmasks himself, his pupils practically hearts as he stares down at you. His eyes search your face, never settling on one particular spot as he drinks you in entirely. You feel as he lets out a breath ; feel his shoulders sag with some kind of relief as he grabs one of your hands. He leads it to his face and lets out another sigh when his skin glows, the shape of your hand left on the left side of his face.

“Mine,” his voice is soft. You can’t stop looking at him — can’t stop staring at your hand that’s been imprinted onto his cheek. “You’re all mine. Made just for me.”

You can’t tell if the feeling swelling inside of you is dread or excitement. But, you let him pull you closer anyways ; allow him to hug you as he pleases. This could come in handy, after all. Maybe.

——♡—— lets ignore that valentines day is over already teehee <3 i hope my version of ghostie is okay, idk how well i write him </3 airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[rafescurtainbangz]

The Château - JJ Maybank One Shot +18

Minor DNI

JJ x female reader

Oral (male and female receiving), public, JJ & y/n trying to be quiet, unprotected p in v (not to completion); JJ can't get enough.

1.5K

You bite down on your bottom lip, eyes rolling back, toes curling tight as you try to contain the pleasure building inside. A muffled moan slips your lips, causing you to cut off the noise with the palm of your hand as you use the other to grip JJ's sandy hair. The couch shifts above you; Pope’s loud snore booms through the Château.

Then you feel it; JJ's fingers swirl around your entrance, the buzz of a hum grazed against your clit. You want to smack him for making you feel so fucking good with all these people around, stifling moan after moan.

Lifting the covers, you watch as JJ's eyes flick to yours, his beautiful face buried between your thighs. He gives you a cheeky wink, tongue swirling and flicking your clit. His fingers curl, finding your sweet spot, making your mouth fall slack as you let out a choked cry.

JJ slows his gait, catching himself making too much noise; the squelching of your slick and the palm of his hand smacking against your pussy a clear giveaway. He adds a third finger instead, making your thighs widen; back arching off the floor. You feel a familiar heat building in your core, warmth spreading across your body.

The knot in your stomach starts to tighten. You tap JJ's head rapidly, a silent 'right there' as you feel your heart start to pick up pace. His skilled fingers strike your g-spot, again and again, tongue sweeping side to side.

You can feel he's torn, the rational part of his mind wanting to stay as quiet as possible while the other part of him wants to make you make a scene. He's not used to it... you can tell; but, he's loving the fact that you're barely able to contain yourself, all because of him. You can see his body grinding against the blanketed-floor to get a little more friction; sneaking peeks when you can under the comforter.

"Gah... Mff. S-Shit," you hiss the words out as he wraps his lips around your clit; sucking with enough force to make you see stars. You buck your hips, but JJ pins you down, keeping you in place.

His tongue swirls around your entrance collecting your arousal, moaning into your cunt; nose bumping your aching clit. Your bottom lip quivers as JJ licks a stripe up your pussy, sending you reeling. You wrap your hands up in the blankets, pulling them taunt; using the fabric to dampen your noises.

"JJ," you pant breathily as your orgasm casts through your body. Your muscles clench tight teeth gritted as you ride the waves of your bliss; pussy, fluttering around his fingers. Your ears ring; everything in the room falls out of earshot.

He doesn't stop, continuing at the same speed. "Gonna get you again," he whispers against the plush of your thigh, chin glistening with your slick. He bites down on your skin; pressing gentle kisses as his fingers pump deep. Your body melts into the floor.

In one swift movement, he thrusts himself inside, sealing your mouth with his broad palm, making your eyes double, a cry of pleasure muted against his hand. He gives you a smirk, getting the response he wanted from you. There was nothing gentle about it, but, fuck does it feel good.

He removes his hand slowly, replacing it with his lips. JJ kisses you deeply, tongue rolling effortlessly with yours. You can taste yourself on his lips.

JJ pistons his hips into you, causing the floor to creak. Both of your eyes widen, scanning around the room for any watchers on. He gives you his full weight, slumping his head in the crook of your neck, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "I don't wanna stop. Do we have to," he sighs, pushing himself a little deeper.

Your fingers drift into his hair, scratching lightly, making him release the sweetest moan, warm and soft. "Wanna fill you up, Y/N. Please."

"We're gonna wake-"

CREAK.

JJ's puppy dog eyes snap to yours, yet another thrust resulting in a telling noise. His bottom lip juts out in a pout. "You feel so - so fuckin' good."

"If you wake 'em up I won't be able to s-"

"Suck my cock?" He whispers excitedly.

"Mhmm..." You giggle.

He lets out a breathy chuckle against your skin. "Fuck, yeah. Mmm... Please," he murmurs drunkenly.

JJ presses his hand against the floor, the muscles in his arms flexing as he draws out nice and slow. You feel the drag of his dick against your warm walls, making you pull your hand to your tummy.

'Fuck, JJ," you whimper at the sensation.

"You don't wanna stop. Do you, princess?" He asks coyly, burying himself into you again. You bite your kiss-bitten lip, shaking your head no.

He tries a few more times, resulting in the same racket, over and over until all that's left are his little pouty grumbles. "Why didn’t we stay at your house, sweetheart? Told you we shoulda left last night. S’not fair. "

"It's not," you whisper between kisses.

"We the Château to ourselves tonight, Y/N," he breathes, lips brushing gently against yours. 

"We do?"

"Mhmm..."

"Can't wait, Jayj." You suck off his plump bottom lip, giving it a little tug between your teeth.

"Need your pussy, Y/N. I hate waitin'. Can I?" He pleads, needily fingering the buttons of your shirt. You give him a little nod, watching as he immediately gets to work, a dopey smile spreading even wider as he reveals more and more skin. "You... You are flawless, baby doll," he whispers, looking at you lovingly beneath the blanket.

"My turn?"

"Yeah, Jayj. Your turn," you coo.

JJ takes you in his arms, rolling you on top. You press your hands against his firm chest, pushing up to sit on his lap. You feel his dick twitch at the sight of your naked body above him, a large blanket giving you a little privacy, forcing you closer than normal, making it all that more intimate. JJ takes hold of your hips, eyes roaming slowly up your frame. "Fuck, Y/N," he groans.

You scratch your nails down his chest. JJ ogles your bare chest, reaching his large hands up to massage and caress your skin, brushing the rough pads of his thumbs over your nipples, watching as they harden under his touch.

"You're so pretty, Y/N. So fucking sexy," he mumbles as you slink lower on the bed, aligning yourself with his rock-hard bulge. You eye the blot on his boxers wetted with precum, wrapping your lips around his head, sucking him off through the fabric, making him groan.

Your fingers climb up his thighs, reaching the waistband, curling underneath. The feeling sends goosebumps across his tan skin, abs flexing tightly. You pull the cotton material down his thighs, releasing his aching cock; mouth watering at the sight.

"Shit, Y/N," he whimpers as you flick your tongue along the slit, collecting the remainder of his prerelease. You continue to toil, teasing him with your tongue, little licks, and kisses, making him shudder out a breath. "Bet you could get me off just like this, sweetheart. Jesus fuck," he praises, looking down at you entranced.

You lick a long, languid line up his cock. "That what you want?" You tease, your warm breath against his dick making his breath hitch.

"Shit... J-Just - I... More."  You wrap your fingers around the base of his thick cock stroking and twisting. "That. Mmm... I want that." Binding your lips, you suckle on his head, letting your split seep down his length, meeting your fist as you stroke. "Oh - Oh shit," he groans.

JJ's brows rumple as you take him deep into your throat, handling as much of him as you can get. You feel his fingers thread through your bangs, working to the crown on your head, the other gripping the blanket. He follows your lead as you bob up and down on his length, shallow enough that you won't gag. JJ's not forcing it, the last thing he wants to do is stop. He bites his lip, holding back a moan.

Your fingers claw up his thighs, making his hips wriggle. You cup his heavy balls in your hands, rolling them as you suck, causing his fingers to twist a little further in your hair. He's close... JJ's neck muscles tighten, blonde bangs clinging to the veil of sweat on his forehead; his cheeks flush.

He's a little more forceful, pressing you down on his cock. "Fuck, Y/N... I'm - Shit. I'm cumming. Fuck," he draws out the word as he releases into your throat, cumming hard. JJ's eyes pinch shut, his free hand biting down on his knuckle; just a throaty moan falling from his parted lips.

JJ sighs blissfully, throwing his head deeper into the pillow. You draw off his dick slowly, sucking to the tip, making him hiss out a breath. He reaches for you lazily, pulling you onto his chest.

"You two done?" Pope’s voice cuts through the silence, making your cheeks flush a violent shade of red. JJ shakes his head, chuckling sleepily; his laugh rumbling in his chest as he wraps his arm tightly around you.

"With what, Pope?" JJ murmurs in a warm, satisfied tone. You laugh lightly against his skin, kissing him sweetly. JJ drops his focus, searching for your eyes, a soft smile spreading on his plush lips.

“I love you, darlin’.”

[facelesssbirds]

Dancing In The Rain || Genshin

A.N. I found that some of these were longer than others, which I'm so sorry for <33 Enjoy! You dance in the rain, with, or without them. Implied F!Reader, Neuvillette, Dottore, Kaveh, Arlecchino Warning: None, though the Harbinger sections makes allusions to their "work,"

Neuvillette had never liked the rain, it was a reminder of his duty, a sick, twisted sign of his failures. He was the reason for the rain today, a court trial having just been finished when you had burst in, long after everyone else had left. Only he remained, standing in the centre of the room almost dramatically.

"Neuvillette," You spoke softly, setting down the umbrella you had been carrying to look at him.

He may've looked calm, composed even, but you could tell he was a mess, his face set in a firm frown, but his eyes softened when they met yours. You took his hand, quiet, intimate.

"Dance with me." You murmured, coming to rest your hand on his shoulder.

He frowned, looking around the court room, askew with chairs, desks and other obstacles, "We can't dance here," he said, a hint or remorse peaking into his voice, it was was hoarse from speaking all day.

You nodded in agreement, listening to the rain outside grow louder, a crack of thunder in the far off distance. Smiling, almost hesitantly you lead him out the doors, through the large, grandiose halls of the opera and out into the pouring rain, your umbrella long forgotten.

"We'll simply dance in the rain," You said, ignoring his protests, and forcing him into a ballroom waltz.

His hand slipped to your waist with little resistance, the harsh droplets of rain softening, wetting both of you to the bone. You should be miserable, standing here, dancing in the rain, and yet, a smile comes to your face, and maybe, just maybe, a hint of sunshine peaks through those dark, looming clouds.

Dottore was a man of science, cold and cynical, but the seemingly unending rain of the Sumeru Jungles bothered him more than he cared to admit. Omega had gotten some water in through his eye sockets, normally this wouldn't be an issue that he would deal with, and Omega could've just taken care of it himself, but naturally the idiot (himself) had ignored every sign of malfunction to work on the god project.

The one bright side was that he got to visit you, you oh, beautiful, perfect, you who stayed in Sumeru as a street dancer, and a scholar, despite the akademiya's terrible treatment of someone as perfect as you. That truly, was the only reason he was out in the rain, watching as you, despite being drenched in the warm rain, preformed a beautiful dance, your aerial dance had long been discarded, you hadn't wanted to ruin the silks, he assumed.

Truly, though, he was your only spectator. The only watcher of your fruitless efforts. The market had long since closed down, but you had barely seemed to notice, your eyes focused solely on completing your routine. He smirked from under his mask, watching as finally, your dance ended, your chest heaved as he offered you his umbrella, shielding you from the rain.

"Are you finished already, darling?" He questioned, watching as you glanced up at him, surprised.

"Zandik!" You gasped, your eyes widening, though you grinned, "I didn't know you were in town-"

He chuckled, "I had... matters, to attend to, and of course, I had to stop by and see you, my darling."

You giggled, giving him a look, "Well, then, I suppose you owe me a dance for being gone for so long."

"In the rain?" He mused, "Darling, perhaps we should wait, you could catch a cold--"

You hush him, patting his shoulder, "Oh it'll be fine~"

He huffs, but complies, his hands coming to your waist, watching as you revel in the feeling of water hitting your face, soaking you to the bone. He'll be there to nurse you back to help after you get sick, either way.

Kaveh was a hard worker, you knew, and sometimes, he worked a little too hard. You had stopped by his and Al haitham's house, looking for Kaveh, who had promised to go on a date with you, only to learn he had been in the library since yesterday.

Naturally, you were worried, thanking Al Haitham before running off to go look for your beloved. The rain hardly stopped you, running into the library drenched, your rain jacket soaked, and your hair a mess. The Library was empty, the lights shut off as you perused, looking for your darling little blonde.

"Kaveh," You mumbled when you saw him, rushing over to his sleeping form.

He was hunched over books and a intricate blueprint of some architectural design, it was beautiful, almost as breathtaking as him, even sleeping with ink smudged on his cheek he looked perfect. You knew he thought the same about you, his eyes lighting up when he saw you, rubbing the sleepiness away from his eyes in an instant to sit up, nuzzling into your arms for a hug.

"Darling!" He said into your arms, not minding the cold wet water drenching you, only for him to quickly turn sad, "I forgot-- shit-- I'm so sorry--"

You cut him off patting his back, "Kaveh, it's fine really, just-- rest." You said firmly, giving him a stern stare.

He grinned, looking out at the glass balcony behind him, before deviously turning to you, "Say... do you like dancing?"

You raised an unamused-- slightly confused-- brow, "It's fun, yes, but really--"

You were cut off by him practically dragging you towards the balcony, opening the door, not minding as rain wetted his clothes, his hair, his face, smudging his makeup and washing off the ink stuck to his cheek.

"Dance with me." He muttered, breathlessly, looking out at the rain, the air surrounding him, at you.

And, god, those eyes. You couldn't help but comply, spinning out as you waltzed, a night to remember for you both.

Arlecchino had always enjoyed ballroom dancing, the elegant refinery of performance. She had taught the children how to dance when they were young, cultivating dance into an art form of itself, a show that must always go on. And now, the performance they had made Fontaine was finished, only the epilogue to be enacted.

"Father." Lyney said, bowing slightly, "This performance has been finished."

Arlecchino smiled, restrained in elegance, sharp as a knife and hard as an edge, "Very good. Fetch your Mother for me, Lynette."

Lynette nodded, disappearing as quickly as she had appeared, a flurry of wind replacing her, sleight of hand at its finest. Arlecchino directed her eyes towards Fontaine, unaware of the hours that would soon await it as the sun set.

"Arlecchino, darling-" You came to stand beside her, smiling, "You called?"

She nodded, looking over at you, tracing your shoulder, "Yes, walk with me one. One last performance."

You glanced up surprised, "Of course."

And so, it was. Arlecchino's hands gripped yours as you walked through the garden, marveling at the sunset, and the looming clouds in the distance.

"Arle..." You murmured softly, "It's going to rain soon. We should head back inside."

Arlecchino's grip on your hand tightened, "Nonsense. Dance with me," She smirked, her free hand coming to play with your hair, before trailing down to your waist in slow, languid movements. You couldn't ever resist this woman.

"I suppose I must," You say, sighing through a smile, watching as rain hits the pavement around you. Soon, you too will be drenched, but happier than before, after all, dancing with your darling was something everyone wishes for.

[angelltheninth]

What are your fav romance tropes and to which TWST men would you give them to? Since they're fairy tail inspired anyways there's probably some you could apply to them easily.

As much as I like writing romance I'm not much of a romance movie watcher so everything I do say here will be based on... well mostly anime and fanfic stuff.

Pairing: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, teasing, childhood friends, enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, sneaking around, secret relationships

A/N: All of these are also tropes I enjoy writing about a lot, which I'm sure you already know if you've been following me for a while.

Riddle is the shy, withdrawn love interest trope who wants to catch your eyes but doesn't know how to approach you. He spends a lot of his time watching you, blushing when you look at him but not approaching you. He honestly feels like he could wait forever for you, you're the apple of his eye, you're worth waiting for, and if needed worth fighting for but hopefully you can realize your feelings without it ever coming to that.

Leona is the cold shoulder trope. He wants to be left alone, he wants nothing to do with you at first and finds you annoying more then anything else. He can snap at other pretty easily which leads him to be branded a bad boy and delinquent, only adding to his isolation. He's not a brute, he just values his space, which you keep stepping in and making him lower his walls until eventually you're sitting shoulder to shoulder in the garden, him purring and his tail loosely wrapped around you.

Azul is the enemies to lovers trope. You heard many stories about him, you want nothing to do with him when you meet, hell you even see him doing shady things which only adds to your negative feelings. He seems to enjoy riling you up, thriving on it actually. He doesn't like you that much at first either, thinking you to be too much of a goody two shoes. It would be very fun if he could somehow get you on his side. If not he'll be happy with seeing you get flustered around him whenever he feels like he's won and kisses your cheek as a reward only for him.

Kalim is definitely the childhood friends to lovers trope, he has loved you since the day you met, but was never brave enough to say it. Even when you enrolled in the same school as him, the same class, he couldn't confess. It was only after he saw how popular you were that he started being more bold with his feelings towards you. He would talk about funny past memories, recalling the jokes and the sleepovers. In fact... you haven't had a sleepover in a while, what do you say? He'll leave the window open for you, just sneak in, just like old times. With... extra kisses maybe, if he confesses.

Vil is the popular guy in school trope. Everyone likes him, the students, the teachers, hell even the animals love him. Because of that he is a little hard to approach. Luckily you're the one that catches his eye, so he approaches you, much to the amazement of others. Compared to him you're boring, nothing special, but that is exactly why he wants you, someone who just transferred, someone new, someone exciting, fun. And you're a cute girl, how can he resist.

Idia is the guy next door trope. You see him every day but you don't know a lot about him when you first arrive. He's hard to get a hold of and not too sociable. At least you walk to school together so that's already more then most people get to see of him. Over time he begins to wait for you, bashfully offering you his jacket when its cold, or offering you his hand when it's windy. He definitely has a protective, soft side to him, and you are one of the few to see it.

Malleus is the quiet outcast, the one wolf, or dragon if you will. Besides his tight circle of friends he doesn't talk to many people so it's not easy to get ahold of him either. Well... he can talk to you quite easily, he wants to actually, he's very quick to develop feelings and worst yet he falls hard and fast. Once it starts it's not easy for him to shake and he's been hurt before, another reason why he tends to keep mostly to himself. If he opens up to you you might hurt him too. You won't will you? If were to kiss you, would you push him away?

[mysumeow]

My ears! Why won't you pet them? 1/2❜

Summary: Tighnari is used to the attention his fox features bring to him. Your apparent indifference to them makes him wonder: why's that?

Warnings: Tighnari calls reader a lummox once? Could that be considered some warning? IDK. All fluff. Gender neutral for body and pronouns.

a/n: writing this healed my soul. thinking of fennec boi heals my soul. btw asks and requests are open ^^

NEXT PART

Tighnari is aware of how much his ears stand out.

And it's a no-brainer, they're long and are one of the first things people notice about him, if not the first one.

They're irresistible, he knows, and that's why as long as there is some level of trust, and is asked, he'll allow friends to pet his ears.

He's just wary of fingers straying too close to the tips, he's considerate enough to either request them to stop or move his ears away in a manner that will deliver the message.

Long story short, he wonders why won't you pet them too.

"Looking pretty grumpy right there. Is something wrong?" Collei asked as she opened a window to let some air in.

Already used to Tighnari's mannerisms and whatnot when he's in a bad mood, Collei caught up on it in no time.

"Not at all." if he didn't end it with a drawn out sigh, his lie would've been believable.

"Does it have a anything to do with...you know who?" Collei covered her smile with her hand, but a small giggle still made it through.

Ears as sensitive as the Lead Forest Watcher's would definitely catch on the sound.

"Collei... don't start doing that. You're of a certain age to not act like that–"

"I was joking, okay? Anyway, your favorite–" Collei retracted once she saw the tiny annoyed look Tighnari sent her. "Ahem, your colleague asked me to tell you that they're already in Gandharva Ville and would soon stop by here. To continue...technical research related stuff or whatever you elders have to do."

Tighnari paid no mind to the fact that his subordinate was calling him a fossil and instead began to go through a mental checklist of all tasks that he compromised himself to have ready by the time you came back.

"Uhg. It seems like I have to go back to my office. Some folders are missing. Ah. Collei, did you remember to place the specimens inside the cabinet?" he ran to said cabinet to retrieve the last batch of abnormal floral caused by the remnants of the Withering and set them on the desk. "Wait, I think one's missing," his tail swished relentlessly and his ears twitched.

Unbeknownst to him, the sight of watching him run from one side to another was an amusing one.

"How many times do I have to tell that...lummox to communicate in time before coming."

"Uhm, Master–"

Thanks to Collei, Tighnari was reminded to take a deep breath.

"Yes, what is it?"

"There's a…"

"Sorry to interrupt you, but I think I have to go outside." he was pretty sure that he heard your voice, the distinct manner in which you walk.

Humans don't pay attention to details as small as that one, but his hearing capabilities have shown him that not everyone walks the same. And without meaning to, he has learnt yours.

You were about to knock on the door before Tighnari beat you to it by opening it.

"Hi there. Look who decided to show up." he greeted you and stepped aside.

"Mhm, nice to see you again." whatever you were going to say next vaporized into the humid air of the Avidya Forest once you saw a funny detail on Tighnari's appearance. You tried to stifle your laugh, but it was too late; the observant Forest Watcher noticed it.

"Why are you snickering?" he deadpanned.

"Don't you feel some...extra weight on your head?"

"Extra weight? What do you mean?"

"I tried to tell you before. There's a golden finch perched atop your head."

Deciding to oh, have mercy on this soul, despite still snickering, you reach towards the little bird and try to carry it outside.

Expectedly, before you could do so, the creature flew away.

Not only did you tease him about it for the rest of the day, Collei joined you! So much for wanting to make sure everything was in order for your arrival.

From now on, I'll always listen to what Collei has to say. No exceptions. No interrupting.

He groaned into his pillow, recalling the embarrassment from you seeing him like that.

At the very instance he was about to fall asleep, what felt like an electric shock tensed his body at the realization of your hands proximity to his ears.

They were so close.

He rolled over to the side and hugged his pillow.

He then shook his head.

Come on, why are you giving it so much importance? Get yourself together.

Thankfully, the next morning, he had no recollection of his dream. Otherwise, he would be sheepish at the fact that he dreamt of your fingers caressing his ears, your face nuzzling against his cheek and the soft, tickling sensation that caused.

The day of your arrival was productive for how unanticipated it was. Today, however, research would be delayed as a quick trip to Sumeru City was needed. Some old tools required imperative replacement.

"Are we ready to go back?"

"Everything's in order."

"And why are you heading the opposite direction?"

"I want to visit the Grand Bazaar. I'm craving some biryani. I think it's lunch already anyways."

"Oh. Grand Bazaar," Tighnari's ears lowered. "I wouldn't mind going with you, but my ears are delicate to loud sounds. Grand Bazaar has a nice atmosphere, but I don't think I will be able to stand the noise there,"

"I can cover your ears." you quipped with a smile.

He opened his mouth to answer, then closed it, almost giving in to the suggestion.

"It would be uncomfortable to walk around like that."

"You could carry me on your back," you replied in a playful manner. "That way, I could cover your ears without stepping on your heels,"

"Oh, how thoughtful of you." he jested.

Tighnari assumed you would enter the Bazaar on your own, so he didn't add anything about the topic.

"Here. Have this." you handed him some... noise canceling earmuffs? Specially designed for non-human ears like his?

He tried them on and indeed the noise was more manageable.

That same day, when you both headed back to Gandharva Ville, the other forest watchers wondered why their lead one was in such a great mood.

They saw you walking with him and, without further inquiry, the answer was clear.