#Jumbled Mystery AU

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 7 The Past

Summary: Memories of the past suspended in time. Rating: 18+ Word Count: 6k Warnings: *THIS CONTAINS SERIES SPOILERS* Pre-Outbreak AU, mentions of past trauma, mentions of loss and grief, mild violence, language, mentions of alcohol, yearning, angst A/N: Dare I say, this is my favorite chapter yet. If you haven't connected the pieces by now, then this will answer every question you've had. There were so many signs along the way, and I encourage you to go back and find each and every one. I know this doesn't soothe the heartbreak of the cliffhanger but please know this chapter is IMPORTANT. And we can all agree that Joel is the STANDARD. * I want to thank @loonmartell for helping me navigate this idea and creating a beautiful story that is slowly coming to fruition. You are truly a mastermind, and I give you all my thanks and love*

Masterlist | Ko-fi

~Three and a half years ago~

Joel paced the waiting room, consumed with guilt and anger. He shouldn’t have let you leave that night. Bennett had called you asking to meet for dinner under the guise of wanting to give back the things he still had been holding onto. Joel should have gone with you, should have told you to stay, should have broken Bennett’s jaw. Joel couldn’t have forced you to stay; he knew you needed closure. After the downfall of your relationship with Bennett, you deserved answers.

Whatever happened between leaving his house and the accident would remain a mystery, and Joel was ready to track Bennett down to find out the truth, but right now, all that mattered was you. 

Your mom rounded the corner, followed by the doctor, both of their faces grim. Joel’s knees threatened to buckle under him, the worst possible scenarios running through his head. 

“How is she? Is she alright?” He asked, the words jumbled together and confused.

The doctor raised a hand to slow Joel’s frenzy, and your mom’s eyes stared at the floor.

“She’s awake,” the doctor started. “But there were some… complications. We just finished taking her for some tests, and we’ve determined she’s sustained a form of retrograde amnesia.”

“She can’t remember the crash?” Joel questioned. He swiped his sweaty palms over the denim of his jeans, anxiety bubbling in his chest.

“After analyzing her CT scans and running some cognitive tests, it looks like she’s lost a large chunk of her memory,” the doctor explained.

“How large are we talkin’, doc? A few months?”

Your mom stepped forward, placing a hand on Joel’s shoulder. 

“She asked for Bennett when she woke up,” she whispered. 

“What the hell does that mean?” Joel snapped. 

“She has no recollection of the last two years,” the doctor said.

Joel staggered back, dragging a hand down his face. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t fucking happening.

“You’re tellin’ me she has no memory of me?” Joel shouted. 

“Joel, calm down,” your mom hushed, her eyes darting around the crowded waiting room. 

“Calm down?” He echoed. “Jesus, she doesn’t fuckin’ remember me! I need to see her. I need to—I need to tell her.”

The doctor stepped forward, a frown creasing his face.

“It’s imperative that we don’t disrupt her current condition. Any interference with her memory may cause more complications with the amnesia. If we force these forgotten memories on her, it’ll cause too much stress on her brain and ultimately lead to permanent damage. If we want her to regain her memory, we need to wait.”

“How long?” Joel pleaded. “How long do I need to wait?”

“We don’t know,” the doctor sighed. “With amnesia this serious, it could take weeks or even years. There’s no way to determine the timeline right now.”

Joel’s anger flared up, and he slammed his fist into the wall beside him. The pain radiating up his knuckles and hand was nothing in comparison to the pain splintering inside his chest. He was losing you, and you didn’t even realize it.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Miller,” the doctor said. “I know this isn’t easy, but it’s what’s best for her and her recovery right now.”

“But she doesn’t—.” Joel couldn’t get the words out. 

He crumpled to the ground with his head in his hands—two years' worth of memories together gone in a matter of seconds. You didn’t remember him. You didn’t know Joel loved you; you didn’t remember that you loved him. 

“Joel, sweetie,” your mom cautioned, crouching beside Joel. “You said she was with Bennett before the crash, right?”

Joel lifted his head and glared at your mom through teary eyes. He didn’t want to be reminded that Bennett had returned; he didn’t want to fathom the idea of him being in your life again.

“Don’t tell me you’re seriously thinkin’ about tellin’ him all this,” Joel said. “Y’know what he’s like with her. I can’t let her go and watch her be with him.”

“We need to contact him at least and tell him. If she thinks they’re still together…we must maintain that memory. We have to try. If it’s something Bennett wants and is willing to do, then we have to. I know you want to tell her everything, but her brain is so fragile right now. It’ll scare her, and I can’t risk losing my daughter entirely. Joel, I need you to understand what's best for her.”

“And y’all seriously think Bennett is what’s best for her?” Joel laughed bitterly.

“Of course we don’t, honey. The thought of Bennett comin’ back around kills me, but what if there’s a chance her memory will return sooner than we think? She won’t have to keep him in her life forever, but only until everything comes back to her.”

“And what if it doesn’t? Y’expect me to watch the woman of my dreams love another man? What if one day they get married? Or have kids? I’m supposed to pretend like none of this ever happened?” 

Christ, the thought of that made Joel sick. He didn’t want to see you continue the rest of your life with a man who didn’t treat you right. He couldn’t do this… He couldn’t stomach this plan. 

“Joel, listen to me,” your mom hissed, grabbing him by the collar. “We need to play the long game, okay? I’m not giving up hope on my daughter, and I know you won’t either. You love her, don’t you?”

Joel nodded helplessly, mouthing the word ‘yes.’

“Then wait for her. It won’t be easy for any of us, but we all need to want this. I’ll talk to my husband and the girls about this, and we’ll work through all the details. Lying isn’t easy, but it might be what ends up saving her memory.”

That night, Bennett showed up at the hospital. 

Joel wasn’t in his right mind when Bennett walked into the waiting room. The moment he saw his smug grin and floppy blonde hair, Joel lost it. 

“Motherfucker!” Joel yelled, sending his fist straight into Bennett’s jaw. 

Bennett reeled over, staggering back into a waiting room chair, while your dad pulled Joel away. A murmur of voices among the other bystanders dragged Joel from his vengeful haze, and he stared at Bennett unamused. He wanted to see him suffer the way he had been suffering. 

Bennett worked his jaw back and forth, glaring at Joel as he sat beside your mom. 

“This is the thanks I get for agreeing to meet with you guys?” Bennett huffed. 

“It’s your fault she’s in that fuckin’ bed,” Joel snapped. 

His body still thrummed with unbridled rage, his hands shaking at his sides. Stella, Beth, and your parents were all gathered around the waiting room, taking their respective spots in one of the chairs. Joel couldn’t sit. He didn’t want to be any part of this. 

“Joel,” your dad snapped. “Cool it.”

Joel folded his arms over his chest, staring daggers at Bennett as he made himself comfortable in his chair. Your mom leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. 

“Bennett, we need to know what happened before the accident,” she pleaded. “Joel said she was with you, so what happened?”

Bennett shrugged, stretching his legs out and crossing his arms. 

“I asked her to come back,” he said plainly, as if it were that simple. Joel seethed, his body twitching as he tried not to hit Bennett again. 

“Why?” Beth interjected. “You don’t even fucking like my sister. Why would you do that?”

“I do like your sister,” Bennett argued. “I told her I had made a mistake and that I wanted to try to make things work.”

Beth rolled her eyes, a scowl forming on her face. 

“You waited almost two years to make that discovery?” She cackled. “What actually happened?”

Bennett lifted a hand to his jaw, massaging the reddening skin as he quirked a brow at Joel. He was playing with fire; Joel just needed one more reason, and he’d kill Bennett on the spot.

“I told her to meet me for dinner to talk,” Bennett explained. “I still had a few of her stupid books she left behind, so I figured it was a good opportunity to meet with her. I tried to explain my side of things and why I wanted to give us another shot. She just laughed at me. She took her little books and left the restaurant without hearing any more of what I had to say.”

Joel felt a strange sense of pride knowing you had laughed in Bennett’s face, but given the circumstances, it quickly faded. A bitterness flooded his tongue at the thought of you returning to the life you had with Bennett, especially when he spoke of you with such disdain. 

“Why does any of that even matter?” Bennett questioned, looking between your parents.

Your mom cleared her throat and spoke up.

“The accident she was in caused some damage to her brain,” she began. “The doctors determined she has a form of amnesia. She doesn’t remember anything from the last two years.”

Bennett’s eyes grew wide, and he slid Joel a knowing look. 

“She thinks she’s still with me,” Bennett concluded. 

Your mom gave a solemn nod, running a hand through her hair. Joel could see the stress written all over her face, and he could see the pain in her eyes as she realized what was about to happen. 

“The doctors think it’s best not to overwhelm her with the memories she’s lost. We don’t want to do this, but it may be best if she resumes the life she thinks is still intact, which means introducing you back into her life. Is that something you’re open to, Bennett?”

Bennett didn’t say a word for several minutes. All he did was stare at his hands in silent contemplation. Beth and Stella sat unmoving, and Joel caught Stella sneaking glances ever so often. Finally, Bennett turned to Joel and studied him before speaking.

“And you’re in agreement with this?” He asked.

Joel gave a single nod, though he was reluctant to do so.

“I’m willin’ to wait for her. She needs time to regain those memories, and I don’t wanna cause any stress on her if she thinks she’s still with you. Trust me, I ain’t happy ‘bout it, but I love her.”

“And if she doesn’t get those memories back?” Bennett pressed.

“Then you better make her the happiest girl in the world and never fuck things up again,” Joel frowned. “I swear I’ll hunt you down if y’ever hurt her. I love her with my whole fuckin’ heart, and I’d do anythin’ to make sure she’s happy.”

“I love her, too, you know.”

Joel had a hard time believing Bennett, but there was a seriousness in Bennett’s eyes that made Joel’s heart ache. He was giving up the one good thing in his life to someone who didn’t deserve your love. Joel was a patient man, but that didn’t stop his heart from breaking. Who knew if you’d ever remember him again? He would have to live his life knowing you may never come back and that he’d have to carry that pain with him every single day. Hope was a fickle thing, one he would rather forego if he could just tell you the truth, but this was his only option. Joel would have to give you up. And he would do it because he loved you beyond all measure. 

Your parents took Bennett to meet with the doctors to discuss your current condition and the future it would entail. Joel stayed behind with Beth and Stella, the three of them blanketed by an insurmountable pain that couldn’t be healed. 

“What if we never see you again?” Stella asked, her eyes full of tears. 

Joel sat beside her, pulling her into his arms and letting her head rest on his shoulder. She was only fifteen, but Joel knew she was aware of the gravity of the situation. Even though she was older than Sarah, he always viewed Stella like another daughter; he had watched her grow up the last two years, and Joel adored her just as much as he did for his daughter. 

“Y’gotta stay strong for me, Stell,” Joel sighed, squeezing her shoulder. “She's gonna get those memories back one day, and I’ll be right there when she does. None of y’all will ever lose me. I swear that to you.”

Stella sniffled back tears, curling into Joel’s embrace. He glanced at Beth beside him, giving her a sad smile.

“I’m trustin’ you to look out for her, okay?” He said. “She needs you more than anyone. I know you ain’t happy ‘bout all of this, and I sure as hell ain’t either, but it’s gonna be okay.”

“I don’t agree with any of this,” she grumbled. “I hate him, Joel. I hate all of this.”

“I hate it, too, Beth,” Joel said. “But I love her more, and I’m willin’ to wait for her.”

Beth exhaled, slumping back into the chair. Joel could tell she wanted to say more, but she held her tongue. Joel knew Beth’s anger ran deep for Bennett, and he hoped she’d learn to give you grace through all this. It wasn’t your fault this decision was being made. It was what they all thought was best. 

Your mom returned an hour later to gather the girls and usher them home for the rest of the night. Joel’s head was throbbing from all of the stress, and he was on edge, knowing his time with you was running out. 

“Is she asleep?” Joel asked.

“The doctors gave her a heavy sedative to help her get through the night,” your mom explained. “In the morning, they’ll run a few more tests and figure out when it’ll be okay to discharge her.”

“Can I see her?” He pleaded. “Just so I can say goodbye?” 

The words tasted like ash on his tongue. Goodbye was a word he never wanted to associate with you. He wanted the good nights and good mornings but never a goodbye.

“Of course, sweetie,” your mom said, tears slipping down her face. 

Joel realized he wasn’t just saying goodbye to you but to your family as well. A family that had welcomed him in so quickly, a family he had spent holidays with and visited in the summer, he was losing an entire group of people he loved so dearly. 

Joel thought he was strong enough to see you, but as he opened the hospital door, he realized how wrong he was. Your face was littered with cuts and bruises, your right eye swollen shut, and your hair matted down with dried blood. It took every ounce of his energy not to collapse at the sight of you lying there, and he moved on unsteady legs to your bedside. 

He barely managed to say your name as the syllables broke out in a choked sob. He took your hand, his thumb smoothing lines over your balmy skin. Tears fell onto your fingers as he lifted your hand to his mouth, crying softly as he pressed a kiss against it.

“Oh, baby,” he cried. “I love you so fuckin’ much. I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so—.”

Joel wept over your body for what felt like an eternity. He let his head hit the bed, your hand pressed against his wet cheek, inhaling the lingering scent of your perfume. Every memory with you flooded his mind: mornings spent together drinking coffee, lazy afternoons laying on the couch while you read your favorite books, weekends at the soccer fields with Sarah. 

Joel’s life had flipped upside down in the span of just a few hours, and you’d never know the decision he had to make for the sake of your health. He wasn’t the praying type, but if there were a God up there, he’d spend every night on his knees begging for you to come home to him. 

“I love you, baby,” Joel whispered. “Even if you never remember it, I’ll carry you with me forever.”

Joel leaned up to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering a second too long. He never wanted to leave this room because everything would be gone once he did. All he’d have left were the memories and an undying hope you’d wake up one day remembering his face. 

Joel spent the next two days gathering your things from his house. He piled your books into a box, along with the miscellaneous items you had littered his home with. He clung to your shirts and held them to his chest, wishing it was you in his arms. Scattered on the fridge were Polaroid pictures you had taken of Joel throughout the two years, and he slipped them away for when he was ready to relive the memories—not yet, but one day. 

Sarah came home from school and saw the boxes next to the front door, giving Joel a weary look.

“What’s happening?” She asked.

Joel crouched in front of her, taking her head in his hands. He managed to say your name without faltering and explained everything to his daughter in the simplest way he could.

“She doesn’t remember me?” Sarah murmured, her eyes welling with tears. 

Joel hadn’t realized the heartbreak Sarah would be facing, too.

“No, sweetheart,” Joel shook his head. “But one day she will, I promise. You’ll be my tough girl and help Daddy through this, alright? We’re gonna wait for her ‘cause she’s gonna come back. I promise she’ll be back one day, and she’ll be right there on the sidelines again cheerin’ you on.”

“I’m gonna miss her,” Sarah cried, crashing into Joel’s chest and wrapping him into a hug.

“I’m gonna miss her too, sweetheart.”

~ Two years ago ~

Joel’s phone rang well past midnight. Through tired eyes, he searched for it on his nightstand and prayed it was you, but an unknown number lit up the screen, and Joel’s heart stopped.

“Hello?” He answered, his voice roughened from sleep.

“I can’t do it.”

It was Bennett’s voice, frantic and shaky. Joel shot up in bed, his heart pounding out of his chest.

“What do y’mean you ‘can’t do it’?” Joel questioned.

“I—I can’t do it, man. We’re supposed to get married tomorrow, and I can’t fucking do it. She’s making me crazy. You know she says your name in her sleep? She still can’t remember shit, yet all she does is say your name when she’s sleeping. I’m losing my mind.” He was rambling through words so quickly Joel could barely keep up.

“Y’can’t just leave her like this,” Joel said. “Do y’know how much you’re gonna hurt her? You waited ‘til now to decide you didn’t wanna go through with the weddin’? Y’know how fuckin’ stupid you are?”

Bennett exhaled loudly through the receiver, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“I’m never going to make her happy, and she won’t make me happy. I’m not doing this.”

Joel scrubbed a hand over his face and stared up at the ceiling fan, turning above the bed.

“Alright, listen,” Joel started. “You get your shit together, and you leave. Find some job in another state and never come back. She doesn’t deserve this, and she definitely doesn’t deserve the heartbreak you’re ‘bout to give her. So, you take your ass and get the fuck out of town. And I swear, if you ever come back or even try to contact her again, I will kill you. Do y’understand me? I will fuckin’ kill you.”

“You’re threatening a future lawyer?” Bennett laughed. 

“I don’t give a damn what you are, Bennett. I’ll take a gun to your head the next time I see you and not even think twice ‘bout pullin’ the trigger,” Joel threatened, speaking through clenched teeth.

“She’ll never forgive you for it,” Bennett countered. “And don’t even think about coming back into her life, either. She’s better off without either one of us. God help the next guy who tries to get with her. She’s a fucking wreck.”

Joel seethed, the room going red. How dare Bennett talk about you like this? Joel should have never left you. He should have fought harder. He should have killed Bennett before he could have ever had the chance to come back. 

“I suggest you pack your shit quick, or I’ll find you ‘fore the night is over,” Joel growled. “Get the fuck out of town, you fuckin’ piece of shit.”

Joel slammed his phone shut and slumped against the headboard. Bennett would be out of your life, but at what cost? He knew this would destroy you. God, he couldn’t even fathom the heartbreak you’d face in the morning when you arrived for the wedding. Joel didn’t even let himself imagine what you’d look like, dressed in a beautiful white wedding gown. Bennett didn’t deserve you; he never did. But Joel didn’t deserve you either. You were too good for either of them. 

~ Three months ago ~ 

“Dad, I need to tell you something,” Sarah announced, walking through the front door.

She had just finished her first day of school, and Joel had gotten off work early to be home in time to hear all about it. 

The last two years had been a blur of endless work days and long nights spent drinking in the dark. He was drowning himself away in bottles of whiskey, trying to forget you and the pain that still lingered. He had considered going to you so many times to spill the truth and beg you to come back into his life. But he knew better than that. He knew you deserved a normal life without the reminder of the past. 

Joel looked up from the stove where he was cooking dinner. Sarah's face was etched with concern, and her lips trembled as she tried to speak.

“Sweetheart, what is it?” Joel panicked. 

He dropped the spatula on the counter and rushed to Sarah’s side, holding her firm by the shoulders.

“My—my teacher,” she muttered. “It’s her.”

Joel felt the world tilt on its axle, his body swaying at Sarah’s words. 

“Tell me y’didn’t say anythin’ to her,” Joel begged. 

“No, I—I didn’t. I swear. I don’t even know what I would say,” Sarah rambled. 

“Okay, alright. It’s okay. It’s okay,” Joel exhaled. He needed to sit down. 

Pulling out one of the dining chairs, Joel collapsed entirely, burying his head in his hands. Sarah rubbed a hand over his back, gently attempting to soothe him.

“Maybe this is your chance, Dad,” Sarah suggested. “It’s been enough time now. Maybe she’ll be able to handle the truth about everything.”

Joel loved Sarah’s optimism and her bright outlook on everything. Whenever Joel was ready to give up hope, Sarah was right there to guide him back. She was right, it was an opportunity to start over again, but he didn’t want to fuck it up. He wouldn’t lose you twice. 

“I’ll think ‘bout it, okay?” Joel sighed. “Let me finish cookin’ dinner, and y’can tell me all ‘bout your day.”

Joel sat across from Sarah, his food untouched the entire time she talked. He had no appetite. All he wanted to do was ask her about you: what you looked like, what your voice sounded like, what books you would teach the class. He knew poetry was your favorite. You would stay up late reading together in bed. You would always chime in with little factoids or comments about the book, and Joel would always sit there listening to every word. Shakespeare was your favorite, and Joel loved watching your face scrunch with concentration as you tried to explain the meaning behind each play. When he packed up your things three and a half years ago, he secretly kept your copy of Romeo and Juliet. Sometimes, when he was drunk enough, Joel would flip through the pages just to trace over your scribbled words and annotations, just to relive a moment kept in secret between the two of you. 

Now, his daughter would experience your passion for teaching firsthand. He was a proud son of a bitch, knowing you were following your dreams. 

“Dad,” Sarah’s voice cut through Joel’s wandering thoughts.

He glanced up from his full plate and shook his head.

“Sorry, sweetheart. What did you say?”

“I was saying there’s a father-daughter dance in a couple of weeks,” she repeated. “Maybe she’ll be there. You could see her again.”

“Yeah, maybe. I gotta see if I can get ‘round work to be there.”

Joel was all too familiar with Sarah's look of disappointment; he had seen it far too often these last couple of years. His role as a father had been lacking for a while now; he was lost in the haze of losing you, so much so that he was losing himself. Unfortunately, Sarah had been the one suffering the most because of it. 

“I’ll make it work, sweetheart,” Joel decided. “I promise.”

After Sarah went to bed, Joel sat on the couch, nursing a short glass of whiskey. He stared at the liquid as he swirled it around, the amber color shimmering under the dim light of the lamp beside him. His phone lay open on his thigh, Beth’s number sitting there waiting to be dialed. Joel had barely spoken to your sister since he last saw her at the hospital, but he knew she would be his first call. 

Dialing her number, Joel took a long sip of his drink and waited.

“Joel?” Beth exhaled, her voice groggy from sleep.

“Hey, yeah.” Joel cleared his throat. “It’s me. I, um, I have some news.”

“Did she…” Beth’s voice trailed off.

“No, no. Not yet, at least. Um, Sarah’s first day of school was today, and I found out she’s her teacher. Funny how that happens, right?” 

“Wait, my sister? Actually?” Beth sounded shocked.

“Yup,” Joel sighed. “Sarah thinks I should try and talk to her, Whatdaya think?”

Beth remained silent, and Joel cleared the contents of his glass as he waited.

“I don’t know if telling her everything right away is smart,” she said. “I mean, I haven’t talked to her a lot in the past couple of years, so maybe I’m wrong.”

“Y’all haven’t talked?” Joel questioned.

“She and I haven’t spoken since the whole wedding ordeal,” she confessed. 

“Wait, why?”

Joel sat up, one hand clutching the phone, the other smoothing over the curls sticking up on the crown of his head. He never thought you and Beth would ever be on bad terms.

“I warned her about Bennett. I tried to talk her into leaving so many times, but she was so stubborn. I don’t know what he said or did to her to make her stay, but she was always at his defense. I hated seeing her with him, Joel. It should have always been you.”

“I know, Beth. I know.”

“Have you considered maybe completely starting over?” Beth asked.

“Like in what way? Datin’?”

“Yeah. Maybe introduce yourself and see where things go. She might not regain her memory, but you’d have new memories together. She deserves to be loved the right way, and you’re the one who can give her that. Take things slow and test the water. You never know.”

Joel considered the idea for a moment. It could work, but what if it didn’t? What if he completely fucked up his second chance with you? He would have to live the rest of his life knowing he lost you twice.

“You’re suggestin’ I lie to her?” Joel scoffed.

“No,” Beth argued, her voice stern. “I’m suggesting you work your charm like you did the first time and see where it goes. She loved you once before, Joel. I think she could love you again.”

Beth’s words were enough of a push for Joel actually to consider that this might work. He knew you. He knew what you liked and didn’t like; he knew every tiny piece of you so that it wouldn’t be hard to sweep you off your feet again. The only problem he had with the plan was lying. If you ever found out the truth, it would crush you. And that terrified him. He didn’t want to break your heart; Bennett had done a good enough job of it, and Joel would never be like him. He would be better. He would prove himself. 

“Do y’think your family would agree to this?” Joel asked.

“None of us ever gave up hope, Joel,” Beth sighed. “This could be a chance for all of us to get her back—to get the old version of her back. We miss her a lot.”

“I miss her, too.”

“Go get your girl, Joel. She’s waiting for you.”

Joel spent that night wide awake in bed. The idea he could have you back in his life again set his body alight with a mixture of anxiety and fear. Beth could be right; you could love him again. There was that hope that maybe he could rewrite the past and start anew, but there was also that terrible fear you could slip away from him…permanently. You never regained your memories, and there was a good chance you never would, but not taking this risk would condemn Joel to a life full of grief. He knew grief well; he had walked side by side with it for the last three and a half years. If he could just hold you for one moment and hear you say his name one more time, that would be enough.

When Joel awoke the following day, he had made up his mind; he would keep fighting for you. 

He called Maria before school began and explained it all to her. Joel knew Maria had taken the news of your accident the hardest; you and her had always been close. She was like a mother to you here in Austin. Learning how to navigate around your memory loss had been tricky for her, but Joel knew she had done right by you. 

It was no surprise when Maria squealed with excitement over the phone, meticulously creating a master plan to bring you both together again. She promised to talk you into chaperoning the father-daughter dance and vowed to continue pushing you his way. Joel had to remind Maria that he was the one in control here; he needed to be the one to make everything work. Knowing everyone was on his side and willing to help ease his mind. 

He was going to get you back. 

~ Two Months Ago ~

Joel was running late. He had forgotten entirely about the father-daughter dance, and now he was speeding through yellow lights to make it home. He promised Sarah he’d go, but if he was being honest, the thought of seeing you again made him overwhelmingly nervous. What would he say to you? What would you think of him? What if he ruined his second chance?

Bolting through the garage, Joel called out for Sarah in a rush. She came barreling down the stairs in a blur of lavender and Joel had to stop his racing thoughts to admire his daughter.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel smiled. “Y’look beautiful.”

“You’re late,” she frowned. “We need to go now.”

She tugged his hand back toward the garage and into the truck. While Joel grappled with the reality that he was going to see you again, Sarah was buzzing with excitement. She saw you every day at school, but this was different. She wasn’t just seeing you… she was going to see you and Joel together in the same room since before the accident. Sarah never got to say a proper goodbye when everything happened, and Joel knew it was hard for Sarah to maintain a semblance of composure every time she sat at her school desk. The memories of you two together were embedded so deep it was hard for Sarah to ignore. Before the school year, Sarah would try to talk about you with Joel from time to time, trying to cling to the nostalgia of the past. Joel knew the suffering wasn’t just his alone; Sarah lost you that day, too. 

Joel’s hands were shaking as he put the truck in park, his eyes unsteady as he tried to focus on the school's entrance. You were somewhere inside that gymnasium; he could feel it. It was like a silent call, a tug on an invisible string, an asteroid coming into orbit. You were the pull on his gravity, just beckoning him closer. 

“Dad, c’mon!” Sarah begged, unlocking the door.

She was already skipping down the parking lot before Joel could put his keys in his back pocket. He urged her to return so they could walk inside together—maybe because he needed the moral support. He had everyone on his side for this plan, but if he fucked it up, it wouldn’t just be his loss. It would be everyone’s. 

The gymnasium was covered in twinkling lights, and the basketball court transformed into a dance floor for the evening. Joel’s eyes bounced around the room, searching for you within the crowd. Through the crowd of moving bodies, he couldn’t find you. Maybe you weren’t here; maybe it was too late. 

Joel refused to be defeated this quickly and decided to remain focused on Sarah. At the end of the day, this dance was for her. He watched as she mingled with her friends, fawning over each other's dresses and gossiping about the latest drama. Joel remained on the outer edge of the dance floor, his palms damp from sweat and his pulse racing. 

The music shifted to a slow song, and Sarah quickly found Joel and pulled him onto the dancefloor. Seeing her excitement alleviated the bundle of anxiety pulsating inside his chest. He watched as her dress floated around her with every turn, the dimples on her face appearing as he continued twirling her around. The music was slowly drifting to a close, and Joel ushered Sarah in for one last spin. He couldn’t contain the smile on his face as he watched her happiness radiate into the space around him. He maneuvered himself around her twirling body and glanced up toward the side of the gym.

Everything around him ceased to exist at that moment. Amidst the blurring bodies and the chaos of voices, the world stood still. There you were, standing quietly in the shadows, your body bathed in flickering lights, like a lighthouse in the distance of a stormy sea. Joel silently pleaded for you to look at him, even for a second.

As if you heard his thoughts, your eyes met his for a fleeting moment, and it’s as if you saw him. The room melted away, and it was just you and him for the briefest moment in time. Joel swore you looked at him as if you remembered…as if you had searched the room just to find him. The erratic beating of his heart slowed, his body recognizing the strange comfort of your presence even at a distance. Every cell, every atom, every piece of himself cried out to you. 

You saw him.

And he smiled.

[stnaf-vn]

Specifically because the idea of hivemind SW means that there’s different voices- and unfortunately (or fortunately? Depends on the fans) means that there’s a jumble of different whispers promising sweet things. The mystery is: is Sweetheart being genuine? Sympathetic? Or are they just waiting to pull the rug from under Friend’s loyal feet?

i love this au

[losing-it-lately]

I''ll give you a song rec and character! I've had "Please, Please, Please" by Sabrina Carpenter in my head for forever and it's basically about two people from different social circles and loving someone who doesn't always make good decisions, so I can really see an Eddie x Reader based on that!

Please Please Please!

wc: 0.6k

heist!eddie munson x reader

angst? more like a whump/fun heist au, but this is very inspired by the mv being about sabrina carpenter not wanting barry keoghan to go to jail

Your friends all have normal boyfriends- normal, law abiding boyfriends. And it's sweet having an intelligent and beautiful man, one who's both cunning and strategic, but kind and empathetic. Eddie is so many wonderful things, but legal isn't one of them.

You met him at the Louvre, a beautiful month-long trip to Paris that ended with finding the man of your dreams. And it was perfect, especially when he invited you to a quick trip to Rome, all expenses paid. Yes, you had just met the man, but you clicked- you had never clicked with anyone before.

“What good timing,” you remarked in the private jet to Italy, “the Louvre just had a set of expensive artifacts stolen. And the Cupid and Psyche statue!”

Of course he took it, it was the statue where you both met! He’s a man of business and love, Eddie can't help himself. And he nearly cries when a few months after your trips, you find the statue when exploring the lovely home you share. “Oh my God. This is why you don't trust men who you’ve only known for a month.” His eyes glaze over as he begins to ramble about it being a replica and him being an “engineer” like he told you.

You calm him down and he swears to tell you the truth, of every heist, of every plan, of every scam. And it's fine, until the first heist that you know is a heist. It was meant to be easy, you would get constant updates from Dustin while you would spend time with your friends at a bar downtown. A lovely alibi. And it was fine, until the updates paused and all of your friends’ questions circled back to your “mysterious European dreamboat”.

It’s difficult to balance “he’s not like that” with humble brags of the jewellery he buys you and quick lies about his job.

It's hours later than expected and you're tensed, the nerves in your stomach are jumbled, and then Eddie jogs in. He’s loud and hyper and the adrenaline is taking over, and suddenly another fear washes over you: the post heist high.

You motion for him to follow you before he can even get a word in with any of your friends. Immediately, in the dingy bar bathroom, he has you pushed up against the mirror, his nose pressed into the junction of your neck, smelling the bitter alcohols and sweet perfumes of the night (and the sweat from dancing, but he would never admit to enjoying it). His lips began pressing into your jaw, the adrenaline threatening to pass onto you, but you resist and push him off. A small pout forms on his lips. “My friends are outside!” You hastily whisper, “We can't do this here, and worse, you cannot give away that you’re a criminal! Please, don't do this to me, Eddie.”

His hands come to your jaw, rubbing and cradling, “I promise. I’ll keep my cool, baby.” Pent up tears threaten to release after all the stress of the night. “Shhhh,” he coos, “I’ll be so cool, don't ruin your makeup over me, pretty girl.”

“You scared me so much Eddie.” You hold onto his hands and soothe yourself. If your friends see tear streaks, they won't assume good and pure things. He stretches his arms around you, he's hot like a furnace from the running, but he's calm somehow, it's like he's calming for you.

You leave the bathroom and join your friends, before ditching early to eat a deserved diner dinner- something greasy and American to replenish the soul. Eddie holds your hand the entire drive there, he draws circles onto your knuckles and laughs as you recount stories of your friends. Next time, his introduction will be better, a brunch or something nice and grown up. But now, he just wants to think about you and your night together, nothing else.

[stnexus]

sketching out plans…!

gojo satoru x black!fem!reader x geto suguru

college student + artist au

story masterlist

minors dni, 18+

summary: the world appears so much more colorful when you major in art. a balance between mystery and connection. you cannot, however, claim that the bond between you and your two best friends from childhood had the same balance. you were caught in the crossfire as everything went left between gojo and geto once you all entered the college scene. left to tackle your own conflicting thoughts while trying help to repair their friendship. your only question is: why did everything go wrong?

cw: nsfw, a little suggestive, mentions of sexual acts, no smut yet, pet names (no use of y/n), pining, poly!satosugu mentions, childhood friends to lovers trope, explicit language, bickering + petty arguments (not much in this chapter)

wc. 2.1k+

taglist (let me know if you want to be removed): @imma-too-many-fandoms @teonawrites @thithesandofferings

CHAPTER TWO

“i mean what else is there to say?” geto’s voice floated through the spring air. “if he won’t give you an answer, i can’t help either. i have no clue what happened.”

“it’s something, suguru—”

“is this your way of blaming me, princess?”

you turned around, walking backwards for a brief moment on your path to the apartment pool with geto. a frown sat on his lips as he took in your words. but you shook your head curtly. his words make you let off a tired sigh before responding.

“what i’m saying is, there’s something we’re missing,” you stressed,voice putting emphasis on your words. “gojo isn’t one to hide anything.”

“trust me, i know,” geto said as he walked behind you. watching as you turn back around, your black slippers pitter-pattering against the stone pathway that leads to the gated entrance to the pool. his eyes raked over your body, taking in the hot pink swimsuit top against your brown skin, your bottoms hidden under a long sarong that was tied around your waist. a pattern that consisted of flowers that matched the color of the top adorned the fabric. unimaginable thoughts jumbled in his head, but his face showed no signs of any of them.

geto was a mess. he had been a mess since you all were younger, honestly. he had always attracted partners left and right. but, he always had his eyes set on two people in particular. sure, he engaged in being intimate with others — he even had a short-lived relationship that consisted of him and two partners. though that relationship ended horribly, but he only had himself to blame. he remembered them both storming out, going on about him not giving them enough within the relationship. they were not wrong, but he was trying his best. though he never could get over the fact that they were not the two people he saw every night in his dreams.

they were not you.

they were not gojo.

geto lost control for a while when he got to college. falling for anyone who set their sights on him. waking up next to people he knew he had no business being with. some nights, he even brought home people who merely reminded him of you and gojo. opting for not seeing their faces in certain positions, but still never satisfying his need to have you both to call his own. he would wake the next morning to their back facing him, letting the room fill with peace. only a low snoring was heard from the other side of the bed as he relished in the idea of the person being one of the two he was most familiar with.

“gimme your sunscreen so i can put it on your back,” you ordered as you made him sit in one of the lounge chairs. his back facing you as you had moved around him. pulling it from his pocket shorts, geto handed you the tube of sunscreen quickly. his fingers brushing over your own in the process. pulling the hair tie that held half of his hair up out of his hair, you worked to gather all of his hair and pull it into a man bun. the expanse of his broad shoulders fully revealed with his lack of a shirt, your stomach fluttering at the sight.

then his thoughts began again.

geto did not shy away from his feelings mentally. he knew he was in love with the two of you equally. so the events with gojo were like a slap in the face. they affected him much more than he had let on. but how could he show that when he knew you both would look at him differently if he were to confess? so, he had begun to cling on to hope that things would resolve themselves after a while — to no avail.

your hands running across his back, around his shoulders, and near the back of his neck were enough to plummet him into the many times he had wished you were with him daily. wished your arms were wrapped around him as you held him, running your fingers through his hair.

“here,” you said as your arm jutted out over his shoulder, handing him the tube of sunscreen back. geto’s own hand grabbed at your wrist subconsciously as he pulled your arm to him and pressed a kiss into your warm skin as you broke him out of his thoughts. an action that made your breath hitch in your throat.

that’s new, you thought.

but geto had no reaction to what he had done as he grabbed at the sunscreen. as if it were just a normal interaction between you two. muttering about something under his breath that you could not hear. then he stood quickly, pulling the lever on the lounge chair to allow the back to lay flat.

“lay down, let me put yours on,” geto almost demanded. “take the skirt off; you’ll be uncomfortable.” something had clearly gotten under his skin, especially with the way he had reacted unusually, but you figured it would be best to leave it alone. having already put sunscreen on the front of your body, you removed the sarong tied around your waist, a laugh leaving your lips at his proclamation of it being a skirt.

“it’s not a skirt,” your laughter caused your words to come out choppy, “it’s called a sarong.”

“skirt, sarong. you know what i mean, princess,” geto jokes even in his grumpy mood, watching as you throw the fabric over the arm of the chair and lay down.

dammit. maybe i shouldn’t have asked you to lay down. he thought as he watched you move in order to get comfortable on the lounge chair.

your braids had been pulled into a low bun, and your back on full display. usually, geto could hide his wandering eyes, but now he was lucky you were not facing him, as he got a better look than earlier. the pink swimsuit bottoms showing just the bottom of your butt as you laid down. holding in a groan, the man pulled himself together and readied the sunscreen in his hand, rubbing at your back gently.

“sugu…,” you sighed.

“hmm?”

“have you ever thought of being a masseuse?” you questioned half-jokingly. his hands felt amazing. too amazing. it was stirring up something inside of you that should not be making itself known. a certain feeling had begun to make its way between your legs.

“no, should i? how about i make it my side job?” geto chuckled, his eyes trained on your back.

“yeah, it feels good,” you sighed and it almost made geto fall apart. “charge like a hundred dollars for a massage.”

“you must want me to go out of business with those prices. one hundred dollars right from the start of the business?”

geto laughed as he finished with the sunscreen, standing to his full height as he looked at you. your eyes closed and your face relaxed. ‘relaxed’ — something that he wished you knew at all times. but with this situation with gojo, he knew you would never be relaxed if it were left up to them.

the time by the pool was well spent; a few people had been outside too, and someone had even shown up playing music from a speaker. the volume low and mellow as the lyrics of some slower songs had played out in their entirety. the sound droned out in the background as you and geto got into the elevator, waiting for the doors to slide close.

“wait, hold it!”

a voice called out in the distance, causing geto’s hand to jut out in order to stop the automatic doors. your head lifting from your phone screen to look at the entrance of the elevator. your bright-haired best friend making his way towards you and geto.

“be nice, sugu,” you said with a small smile as you greeted the man getting into the elevator, “hey, ‘toru!”

“hey, beautiful. geto.”

oh god, you internally groaned.

“gojo.”

“we just left the pool! we wanted to invite you, but you weren’t in your apartment when we got ready.” you tried to shift the conversation as the elevator ride seemed to drag on.

“maybe next time. got a little busy this morning. had to study for my exam in my biology class tomorrow,” gojo started with a light apology, a smile playing at his lips.

“oh, you study now?”

almost had it.

geto’s words broke between you and gojo’s conversation. just as the elevator dinged, signifying you were on the fourth floor.

“mhm. guess you could say i’m turning over a new leaf,” gojo answered dryly. but there was an air of something hidden behind his words as he exited the elevator.

gojo was telling the truth, somewhat. he had been out studying. but he was home when you and geto came knocking at his apartment door. his feet were quiet against his wooden floors, as he had known the distinct little knocking pattern you had used all the time. his hand jutted out slightly to reach for the door knob, but his movements halted when he heard geto’s voice on the other side of the door too.

his smile fading just a bit as he neared the door silently. looking through the peephole at you two on the other side. you stood in front of geto, a pretty smile laying across your glossed lips as a hopeful glint played at your eyes. you looked…beautiful. geto stood behind you in just black swimming shorts and a towel draped on his shoulder. his hair half up and half down, a style that you all had grown accustomed to.

the two of you…looked beautiful.

see this was not a case of gojo being jealous of you two. no, this…this was something else.

his hand hovered over the door knob still, eyes still peering out through the peephole as your smile seemed to falter just a bit. the lack of response definitely started to steal what hope you cling on to.

“he probably isn’t home...”

geto tried to lay it out lightly, it seemed. which gojo was somewhat thankful for as he watched you both saunter off, presumably towards the swimming pool.

gojo had begun to feel guilty for his actions as time began to tick by. not only towards you, but towards geto. it was purely jealousy that had him stuck in his ways. but once again, the jealousy was not aimed towards you and geto. no, he had felt a sense of longing for the both of you for quite some time — it was ridiculous to him, honestly. for a long time, he had thought that you three were meant to be together.

his jealousy was aimed at geto and the people he had watched geto bring home—

deciding he needed some air, gojo shook his head free of any thoughts. removing himself from the door as he grabbed some of his belongings and threw them into a backpack. the walk to his suv was quiet and quick. he did not want to run into any of you when leaving the building; surely that would make for an awkward story about how he had not heard you knocking.

the library.

he had decided he was going to go to the library. hell, you would probably be proud of him for thinking of going to the library rather than the pool. the thought made him push a little chuckle through his lips as he started the black suv. working his way through the parking lot.

he wanted the both of you in his arms. not to be distancing himself from geto, and ultimately feeling like he’s causing you stress. he had not learned to deal with his emotions, had not matured in a way that could allow him to feel like he would not be hurt if he were to just tell this all to geto. or maybe even to you. which he did not understand.

he never had a hard time expressing himself.

he never hid anything from you two.

he never held a grudge.

gojo had begun to wonder if he was experiencing heartbreak from someone he had never even been with. why was it making him so bitter? why did it make seeing geto’s face such a hard task? why was his brain a mixture of emotions when around the two of you?

this was not right; you two were his best friends. he needed to talk to you at some point. have a sit-down and just let everything out. but how? how would he even bring it up?

“hey, i’m in love with the both of you. you both drive me insane. i would give you both the world. also, i am so deathly afraid of geto hurting the both of us emotionally.”

gojo let out a laugh to himself behind the steering wheel.

“i sound like i’m losing my fucking mind.”

he was losing his mind.

[atiny-piratequeen]

𝐹𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑊𝑎𝑦 𝐻𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝐶𝘩.𝟹 (𝟸/𝟸)

𓆩⟡𓆪Summary: Wooyoung is a culinary student and he and two of his best friends have been brought along to Namhae to learn and study the farmers out in the countryside and disconnect a bit. Reluctant at first, he just wishes he could’ve been back in the city and close to his long-time crush Yeosang. Things change when he lays his eyes on the dimpled country boy staying with them that show them around and teach them more about Namhae’s way of life, all with a spine-tingling Satoori.

Maybe things aren’t so bad out here in the sticks, after all.

𓆩⟡𓆪Pairing: WooSan + Endgame WooSanSang

𓆩⟡𓆪Genres/Aus: Non-Idolverse, Fluff, Romance, Humor, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Fish Out Of Water Tropes, Au, Mutual Pining, Country Boy San, Culinary Student Wooyoung, Poly Endgame

𓆩⟡𓆪Tws: Swearing, Miscommunications, Jealousy, Mentions of Homophobia, Light Instances of Unwanted Advances (from non mcs)

𓆩⟡𓆪Sws: Wet Dreams, Threesomes, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Risky Sex, Biting, Scenting, Hair Pulling, Praise Kink, Creampie, Cock Sharing, Dirty Talk, Bareback Sex, Riding, Doggystyle, Cum Swallowing

𓆩⟡𓆪Rating: Explicit/Mature (18+)

𓆩⟡𓆪WC: 16+k

𓆩⟡𓆪A/n: This is the final part of  @schone-lie’s commission! Thank you so much my dear! We're not gonna talk about how long it took me to post this, please remember to like AND reblog if you enjoyed, and have a great timezone!

𓆩⟡𓆪AO3| Taglist Form (Please make sure your urls are updated and able to actually be tagged) | Commission Sheet𓆩⟡𓆪

𓆩⟡𓆪Network Ping- @kwritersworld | @kdiarynet | @k-vanity | @cultofdionysusnet𓆩⟡𓆪

𓆩⟡𓆪©atiny-piratequeen. do not repost, translate, or use my works𓆩⟡𓆪

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

     3pm

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“So…”

San blushed, looking over as Wooyoung emerged from working on their costumes. He could tell from the way Wooyoung’s sentence trailed off, he probably wanted to attempt having that aforementioned talk. 

“So…” San parakeeted back, cheeks darkening at the way Wooyoung arched a single brow at him. 

“‘So fucking pretty for us?’ I don’t think I’ve seen you with such a feral look in your eyes before.”

San let out an inhuman squeak and looked away after an unintelligible jumble fell from his mouth. 

“Is that how we’re really going to lead this conversation off?”

Wooyoung’s eyebrow inched higher and San covered his face. 

“I just…I think he’s neat.”

“...pfft.”

“WOOYOUNG!”

“I’m sorry! It was cute!”

San covered his face, absolutely flustered while Wooyoung snickered behind his hand, though he couldn’t deny the flutter in his chest as he teased his boyfriend. 

“He’s…really nice to be around. In this quiet, kind of mysterious way. I’ve never met anyone like him before. So…I get it. I get why you like-or, rather, why you love him. At least, I see a bit of it. I think he’s walking a bit cautiously around me because we’re together.”  He mused. Wooyoung hummed and nodded, his cheeks rose tinted. 

“I see.”

“Yeah.”

The two stood in a flustered silence. 

So they both liked him. Cool. 

Now what?

Neither seemed to have the answer, if the long stretch of silence was anything to go by. Just because they liked him didn’t mean the three of them would run off into the sunset. Yeosang didn’t feel romantically for either of them. 

Right?

Clearly the long stretch of silence had become unbearable, and San was the first to break it, clearing his throat. 

“How about we go check out the pop up shop near Yeji’s book store? We passed it yesterday and it looked like it had some cute things inside.” 

Wooyoung perked, smiling as he turned on his heel, disappearing down the hall shouting about wearing ‘couple’s outfits.’

San let out a small exhale and headed down the hall, a small smile tugging at his lips.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

          x

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“With this limited edition plushie, you’ll be entered in a raffle for-”

“If you buy all of the albums, you have a higher chance at getting your bias and-”

“Wait, let’s open them here and then we can trade-”

The duo walked through the pop up shop, the idle chatter and murmur of the room melting into the background as they admired their surroundings. 

It ended up being for some boy group, and while San wasn’t sure who they were, he did appreciate the artistry that went into the popup. Apparently they had a comeback of some sort approaching and some of the pieces on display beyond the glass cases had been hand made by the leader of the group. 

San stopped in front of a posted with all of the men on it, looking up. Wooyoung kept his arm looped in his, putting his chin on San’s shoulder and looking up with him. 

“Do you know them?” San inquired. Wooyoung made a sound of confirmation behind him, hugging him to his chest. The move made San glance back shyly, though he didn’t try to shift out of his grip. 

“I actually designed our halloween fits after one of their comebacks.” He murmured, head cocked to the side. San’s lips parted as he looked up, seeing some of them wearing crop tops and leather pants, while others were decked out in pants that hugged every curve of their lower regions. 

“Is that so?” he inquired. He could feel the way Wooyoung’s lips curved up in delight at the cautious edge in his tone. 

“Wooyoung, I don’t know if I can pull off somethin’ all fancy like that-”

Wooyoung looked at him like he’d grown a second head, narrowing his eyes for a moment to see if San was playing. When he saw that he wasn’t-as evidenced by the tiny, innocent blink he was met with-Wooyoung let out a small exhale through his nose. 

“Boy, what the hell-” He shook his head and grabbed San’s shoulders, tugging him over to a mirror. 

“You are the most attractive person to ever walk out of Namhae, look at you.” He cupped San’s jaw as he stood beside him, turning the older man’s face until he made eye contact with his own reflection. 

“You can easily pass as an idol yourself. You can sing, you have a soothing smile, and you’re literally my happy vitamin.” He smiled and kissed his cheek before pulling him away, lacing their hands together as they exited the pop up. 

San wasn’t sure if his feet were actually carrying him, or if he was floating at this point. He wanted to know where Wooyoung learned to be so…smooth with his words. 

As they left the pop up, they watched a pair of young women leave the book store, giggling amongst themselves about the ‘hot man’ being back again. The two exchanged a look before glancing through the window. 

There, with an apron tied around his waist, was Yeosang, his hair a fluffed lion’s mane around his head and his eyes holding a distinctly soft look in them as he sat down in a half circle, reading something from a picture book to a small group of kids, all while Yunho sat at his side, occasionally ducking his head down to let a child pet him. 

Before they realized, the two of them slowed to a stop, staring through the window at Yeosang. 

“He has a nice smile, doesn’t he?” San murmured, the chill of the autumn air making him press a bit closer to Wooyoung. He let out a soft laugh, nodding. 

“He always used to do that when he wasn’t training. Smiled in this soft, air headed way that made his cheeks bulge like…a cute little hamster.” he laughed to himself and San felt his own smile falling a bit. 

Again, his mouth worked a bit faster than his brain. 

“When did that change?”

Wooyoung looked at him, pursing his lips for a moment before he looked at the ground. 

“Before I left for Namhae. He didn’t tell me if anything had gone awry at home. I offered for him to come with me to Namhae, but he declined and ever since I’ve gotten back there’s been this…air around him.” He sighed. San rubbed his back and kissed his temple. 

“Well, let’s give him something to smile about. The Halloween party is a good place to start, yeah? It’s not my place to pry into his life, especially since he’s only known me for only but so long, but I can certainly get someone to crack a smile. That’s the first step to healin’, right? A good smile and a laugh?” He inquired. Wooyoung smiled and stole a kiss from his lips, grabbing his arm and guiding him down the block. 

“My boyfriend’s got the biggest, sexiest brain, I swear~”

San rolled his eyes playfully and let Wooyoung drag him down the block so they could grab ingredients for dinner. 

Neither noticed Yeosang glance up from the circle of kids he was sitting in, his brow furrowing as he watched their backs disappear down the block. 

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

     October 31st

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“Holy shit, your hair.”

Yeosang blushed and paused, his hair bleached and dyed to be platinum blonde. San let him in and looked at him, lips parted. 

“It’s so…fluffy.” 

His own hair was back to black, with a pattern shaved into the back of his fresh undercut that looked like moon phases.

Yeosang shifted from foot to foot slightly as he slipped into a pair of house slippers. San was looking at him like he’d seen people look at Yunho’s head. 

‘Does he want…to pet me?’

Before Yeosang could say anything, Wooyoung appeared behind San, his hair a brilliant shade red as he let out a loud, fox-like yip that startled San and made him jump nearly a foot in the air. 

“Hehehe! Happy Halloween, boys! Oh wow, that color looks even better on you than I had in my head.” Wooyoung paused, looking at Yeosang with eyes full of admiration. 

Yeosang found himself bowing his head without a second thought, humming as Wooyoung stepped in front of him, running his hands through his hair and grinning. 

“You used the conditioner I recommended.”

“I don’t know if you know, but you tend to be a diva if I don’t go along with your schemes.”

Wooyoung gasped and paused, his fingers tangled in Yeosang’s locks as he looked him in the eye. 

“How dare you, I am not scheming, I am simply…plotting for us to look the sexiest in the entire place.” 

Yeosang sent him a deadpan look. 

“Not only are ‘scheming’ and ‘plotting’ synonyms, I doubt I’m going to look better than anyone else at a party that literally has fashion models at it.” Yeosang muttered flatly. 

San spoke next. 

“Why not? You’re really handsome.”

Yeosang blushed. He blushed. 

“I-”

“Which one of you wants to start first?” He interrupted the car crash happening in Yeosang’s mind with a bright smile, gesturing to the impromptu dressing room he’d turned his living room into. 

San smiled, seemingly wanting to spare Yeosang of more fussing as soon as he walked in, and made his way to the living room, his footsteps nearly silent. 

“I’ll go first. What do we need to start with-”

“Go change into this and wash your face with the products I put on our bathroom sink. Yeosangie, go on and sit down and I’ll brush your hair so I can figure out how to style it.” 

Yeosang’s feet moved on their own and he found himself seated on the couch, scrolling on his phone as Wooyoung carefully brushed his hair, muttering to himself about styling. 

“Your hair has gotten so long…” Wooyoung muttered, catching a tangle while he mused and tugging Yeosang’s hair. Yeosang let out a sound akin to a growl, inhaling sharply. 

Wooyoung froze. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry!”

Yeosang felt his head get engulfed in warmth as Wooyoung hugged him from behind. The familiar scent of his cologne filled Yeosang’s senses and he nearly closed his eyes to sink into the feeling, even if it was laced with a new, interesting scent. 

Must be San’s.

They…complimented each other well. 

Yeosang’s musing was cut off by Wooyoung placing a kiss to his head in apology. Yeosang inhaled sharply for the briefest of moments, fingers twitching slightly. 

“I’m back.”

Wooyoung took his time looking up, though when he did and Yeosang followed suit, both of them were at a loss for words. 

“Crop top.” Yeosang muttered without thinking. Sure enough, San had on a black cop top, his lean abdomen in full view. His pants clung to every curve and muscle of his legs and-

And…?

And he’s been staring at his best friend’s boyfriend for way too long. 

“God, I’m a genius.”  Wooyoung nodded, standing and walking over, admiring him openly, grinning from ear to ear. Yeosang watched them, glancing between the two. 

“Isn’t the crop top going to be cold? Are you going to be okay? Don’t catch a cold.” 

Smooth, Yeosang. Surely, that’s what they’re concerned about. Especially after Wooyoung worked so hard on this and-

“Are you worried about me?” San sent him a charming smile and sat in the dining room table across the room. 

“I promise I won’t get sick.”

“If he does, help me take care of him, yeah? He’s pouty when he’s sick.” 

“I am not.”

“You’re pouting right now. Sit down, babe.”

San playfully rolled his eyes and sat down, letting Wooyoung get started with his makeup. Yeosang turned half way on the couch, watching as Wooyoung began applying makeup to San. 

Watching Wooyoung work was an…experience. 

He focused, whether it was cooking or fashion, he always narrowed his gaze in this…intense manner that made Yeosang pay close attention. 

He was…so handsome. 

“We’re going with a black and pink look for you, Sannie. Tilt your head up, baby.” Wooyoung spoke under his breath, his fingers diligently working. 

“Keep your eyes closed, I’m doing your lids.” 

Yeosang walked over, his feet carrying him without a second thought. He stood beside Wooyoung, watching as he added a shimmery pink to the smoky eye he was doing for San. 

“He looks like an idol…” Yeosang spoke before realizing what he was saying and went beet red when San opened his eyes half way, sending him a slight smoldering look as he locked eyes with him. 

Yeosang froze. 

“Thank you-”

“Close your eyes so help me god if you mess up my hard work-” Wooyoung hissed, lightly nudging his leg with his knee. San chuckled and closed his eyes again, relaxing back in the chair. 

Yeosang tried to keep himself still while he watched, but he found his gaze wandering. 

San’s face, the curve of his jaw, and the upturn of his lips as he tried to hold back a laugh when Wooyoung began putting lipstick on him, his hands idly coming to rest on Wooyoung’s hips as he stood between his legs.

Yeosang’s attention shifted over to Wooyoung, watching the subtle way he shifted from foot to foot, his eyes scanning San’s face. A gentle smile came to his own the more he worked and got closer to completing, muttering small praises under his breath and thank yous for San sitting still for him.

He didn’t have any makeup on himself, but Yeosang couldn’t tear his eyes away from him, his leg bouncing ever so slightly as he watched Wooyoung stand to his full height. 

“Okay, we’re done here. We’ll wait for the ears and tail till the end when I do everyone’s hair. Yeosang, you’re next darling, go wash your face, your facial care products are to the left. Your skin is a bit too sensitive to use the one San and I use. There’s a light yellow towel in there, too, you can use that to dry your face.”

Yeosang smiled and nodded, trudging down the hall. Wooyoung watched him leave, smiling before he turned to San, admiring him with his finger tapping to his own lips. 

“God, you really do look irresistible. I’m gonna have to beat folks off of you with a stick.” 

San arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow and chuckled, tilting his head to the side. 

“Everyone?” 

Wooyoung blushed, glancing behind him, where he still heard running water from the half bathroom down the hallway. 

“You little pervert- what if he hears you?”

“Makes it a bit easier for us to get to seeing if it’ll work, no?” 

Wooyoung stared at him, baffled at how bold the country boy was. San didn’t break his gaze, brows going up as he waited for Wooyoung to contest his train of thought. 

“Behave yourself, you can’t just go hey, my boyfriend and I kind of like you.”

San slow blinked at him, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Wooyoung nodded, seemingly in the process of relaxing. 

“-I would say we definitely like you.” 

“CHOI SAN.”

“I’m done-hm?” Yeosang looked back and forth between the two men, blinking as they stopped immediately, looking at him. 

“Everything okay?” He inquired. They smiled in an instant, sparkling and charming as they nodded nearly in unison. 

“Yep”/”Uh-huh.”

Yeosang narrowed his eyes slightly. He couldn’t prove it, but they were definitely scheming. At least his gut told him they were. 

“Nevermind that! Sangie, you’re in the seat next!” 

Yeosang moved and sat down where San was before, looking up at Wooyoung as he came closer, leaning down into his space. 

San wasn’t too far off, leaning on the kitchen counter beside them, watching in the same manner Yeosang had done previously. Yeosang glanced at him, meeting his gaze for a moment. 

San sent him a boy next door smile, eyes turning into crescents. Yeosang felt something in his chest flutter for a moment before his chin was grabbed and turned, his eyes widening for a moment as Wooyoung made him look up. 

His lips parted, he didn’t say a word, just keeping his eyes fixated on Wooyoung’s. 

He’s so close. Really, just a gentle brush and they’d be kissing-

“Close your eyes, Sangie.” 

Yeosang’s hands shook in his lap as he closed his eyes, letting Wooyoung get to work on him. San didn’t miss the way Wooyoung’s eyes longingly drifted down to Yeosang’s lips before he bit his own, getting to work on his best friend’s makeup. 

“San will be pink…you’re green…and I’ll be red.” He whispered, the faint scent of something sweet still lingering on his breath. Yeosang tried not to laugh or move as one of the brushes ran over his skin gently, though he perked when he felt Wooyoung touch his thigh. 

“Can you spread your legs for me?”

Keep your mind out of the gutter, Yeosang.

Its makeup, Yeosang.

He doesn’t mean it like that, Yeosang.

Yeosang parted his legs, willing himself to keep his eyes closed as Wooyoung came closer, his warmth once again flooding Yeosang’s senses. 

“Like that, good. Keep your head up.” Wooyoung murmured under his breath, his fingers brushing along Yeosang’s neck for a brief moment as he adjusted the angle of his head, not wanting to smudge the foundation on his face. 

Wooyoung, despite his calm breaths, was just as dizzy as Yeosang was. He didn’t do Yeosang’s makeup often-he often went natural whenever they went out with friends or together- so he hadn’t had too many instances of him being in this very position. 

Now that he was here, he was worried he’d fucked up. 

He was too close. Yeosang could probably hear his heart, hear the erratic and frantic beating nearly tumbling out of his chest. Or worse yet, the occasional way his breath caught as he and Yeosang’s thighs brushed against each other. 

“Okay, can you open your eyes?”

Yeosang did as he was told and San leaned close, nodding enthusiastically. 

“Holy fuck that looks amazing.” 

Yeosang’s makeup was less intense compared to San’s, though his eyes stood out boldly thanks to the green and gold smoky eye Wooyoung had given him. 

“I like that you left his birthmark out.” San mused, smiling sweetly. Yeosang felt his cheeks darken as he looked over at Wooyoung. Wouldn’t one want to cover a blemish like that when doing makeup?

“Yeah, it’s cute and accents his face. I’m not gonna cover it.” He huffed, adamant. Yeosang picked at his sweatpants, shyly glancing away as he smiled despite himself. 

Wooyoung, satisfied, moved away from him and down the hall to finally wash his own face and get started on his own makeup. 

“Have you been to a party like this before?” San caught his attention and Yeosang shook his head, rubbing his neck gently. 

“I’m…not the extroverted one out of the two of us. Wooyoung usually starts the conversations, makes the friends, and I get…invited along, and if we get along well, then we become friends.” He admitted, rubbing his arm. San looked at him and walked around the counter, grabbing something from the fridge behind Yeosang. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. With you being more reserved. It…makes it really nice from the outside in when you smile at them, consider them a friend, go out and about with them. At least, that’s how I feel.” San hummed, washing something in the sink. Yeosang looked over his shoulder, hearing something getting slid across the counter. 

A bowl of fruit. 

“We asked you to come early…I don’t know if you’ve eaten. Here.” 

Yeosang looked down at the bowl and reached, smiling softly. 

If…if…anyone had to be the one to have Wooyoung…Yeosang was glad it was San. 

He bit down on a strawberry, mind wandering while San tossed a chunk of pineapple in his mouth. The two stood in silence for a bit, until the sound of boots coming down the hall drew their attention. 

If there was a thought in either of their heads, it was gone. Packed up and rolling a suitcase down the block, gone. 

“Can someone tie me up?”

In the time spent away, Wooyoung had put on a button-up shirt on, tucked into a pair of tight dress pants that hugged his ass. 

He wasn’t wearing underwear, was he? There wasn’t a single outline for anything underneath as he turned his back to them, the strings to the corset dangling down. San glanced at Yeosang and shied. 

“I uh, I don’t really know how to tie one of those up.” 

It wasn’t a complete lie. San had never tied a corset before. It probably wasn’t the hardest to learn. He would’ve offered if it wasn’t for him catching the way Yeosang’s eyes had clearly trailed down to Wooyoung’s ass. 

He was helping, surely. 

“I h-have hand tremors.” Yeosang tossed the ball back, the tips of his ears red. Wooyoung glanced between the two of them and rolled his eyes. 

“If neither of you want to tie it, I’ll just call Yeonjun to-”

“No, I- I got it.”

San glanced over at Yeosang as he spoke up, clearing his throat and moving over to Wooyoung, standing on a few centimeters taller than the man. Wooyoung looked at him, meeting his gaze with a small, almost flirty smile before he turned and left his back to him. He realized his shirt was see through and Yeosang’s eyes landed on the dark letters at the base of his neck.

‘I am never alone, and I will never be.’ 

Yeosang’s gaze softened as he looked at the dark lines, his fingers moving without him thinking, tracing. He’d been there when Wooyoung had it done. Held his hand and rubbed his knuckles every time he squeezed from the pain. 

“We’re gonna be late, Sangie. Unless you wanted to stay in instead?” Wooyoung quietly reminded him. Yeosang startled and cleared his throat, slightly shaking hands grabbing the string of Wooyoung’s corset vest, tying it carefully. 

“You’ll have to give it a good tug at the end, okay? I don’t need it coming unlaced in the middle of the party. 

Yeosang didn’t want that either, didn’t like the idea of him being stared at too intensely by a bunch of people who didn’t know him. 

Wooyoung was so much more than his looks. 

Yeosang huffed, annoyed at the idea as soon as it popped up, and pulled, tightening the strings with a sharp tug. Wooyoung let out a sound of surprise and stumbled ever so slightly, backing into him. 

“Eh-”

“Sorry-”

Don’t think about his ass against you, Yeosang. Don’t think about it, don’t focus on it, leave those thoughts alone-

“I’m glad you’re so well-built or my clumsy ass would’ve knocked us both over.” Wooyoung joked, still pressed up against him. Yeosang swallowed shakily and blushed, glancing down to see no space between them. 

He should probably move before he gets hard. 

“It was my fault for pulling so suddenly. S-sorry.” 

He took a half step back, glancing over and blushing as San stared at them, still leaning on the island counter, feline eyes calm and half lidded as he combed them up and down Yeosang’s form. 

Yeosang, then Wooyoung. 

The dog trainer could only describe it as ‘that one look in romantic dramas where one person is eyeing their partner from the bed and clearly is thinking of dragging them back into it to show them euphoria’. 

Or maybe Yeosang is already entirely too flustered and he’s seeing things. There’s no way Wooyoung’s boyfriend would look at him like that. He didn’t even know why the idea of him doing so made a pleasant shiver run down his spine. 

He’s losing it, that’s the only reasonable response. 

“Okay~ both of you sit still while I get the ears on you and we’re all set!” 

Yeosang shyly moved away, watching as Wooyoung carefully pulled out the three sets of ears and tails he’d made to go with their outfits. 

Deep orange with black tipped fox ears for himself, blonde with soft pastel blue accents for Yeosang’s cat fit, and dark, midnight black rabbit ears with hot pink accents for San. 

They all looked…quite stunning. 

“Is there anything you can’t do?” San mused, looking at himself in his phone’s camera, eyes up in surprise at the end result of Wooyoung’s handiwork. Wooyoung grinned from ear to ear, hands on his hips. 

“Probably not. I am pretty damn great.” 

Yeosang rolled his eyes and playfully nudged him. 

“Let’s just go before his head gets any bigger.” 

The three of them pour out into the night, piling into Wooyoung’s car and heading deep into the heart of the city, the light conversation and impromptu karaoke in the vehicle helping settle Yeosang’s erratic heartbeat. 

They met up with their friends outside of the venue, with Yeji, Chan, and Changbin dressed up as Miruko, Hawks, and Dabi, from BNHA, respectively. Yeji perked as soon as she laid eyes on San, pointing energetically. 

“Hello my fellow bunny friend, join the club!” She grinned, looping arms with Soobin and pulling him in. He blushed, his hands obscured by large rabbit paw shaped gloves as he shyly waved. 

“Oh? So you and Yeonjun ended up doing One Piece after all?” Wooyoung piped up beside San and Soobin nodded, his ears bouncing with the movement. 

“He’s Zoro…I don’t know why he wouldn’t let me be Luffy. Or Ace. Or literally anyone who didn’t require me to wear a dress. I had to fight for my life to convince him I would not survive the night with a dress on and to let me just gender bend it and wear pants.” 

San blinked and looked over, finding Yeonjun pouting not too far off, his hair a deep green color and three swords strapped to his hips. 

“Because you look cute as shit as Carrot. Also I only gave up because I will literally use these swords if someone tries playing grab ass with you.” He grumbled. Soobin pursed his lips, crossing his arms. 

“All of the dress shops stop at a medium anyway and I don’t know if you remember this or not, but I am very tall and dresses intended for feminine bodies that are about three sizes too small would only lead to my ass and balls being out.” 

“And then I’d go to jail for stabbing someone.”/”And then you’d go to jail for stabbing someone.” both of them chimed at the same time. San and Yeosang blinked while Wooyoung snorted beside them. 

“Some things never change. They finish each other’s sentences.” He chuckled before turning towards the entrance of the venue Jiyong had rented out for them. 

When they got inside, they found the group of guests a lot smaller than expected. San even recognized a few of them as some of the workers who would occasionally drop by Namhae to bring gifts to the little ones or have lunch dates with Chaerin and Jiyong. 

It looked less like a high stakes social gathering where everyone was at each other’s throats, trying to become the ‘next big thing’, and more like a larger-than-average Halloween themed house party. 

Unfortunately for Yeosang, he tended to be a wallflower at parties his friends didn’t throw, so he found himself trailing after Wooyoung and San instead, smiling politely and greeting others when he was greeted first. 

Everyone here looked…stunning. 

He hadn’t noticed he’d been falling behind his friend group until his attention snapped into focus, feeling a warm arm lace under his, squeezing in reassurance. 

When he looked to his left, Wooyoung smiled at him, nose scrunching ever so slightly. 

“Hey, you alright?” 

Yeosang flushed, looking over and seeing San had walked over to Jiyong and Chaerin, chatting to them as they stood dressed like Morticia and Gomez Addams. Beside them were Jongho, Eric, and Gahyeon, dressed as Sora, Riku, and Kairi, respectively. 

In a way, it comforted Yeosang, to see the little ones looking around with their wide, doey-eyed smiling faces, running around between the adults-all of which they assumed were close friends of the two throwing the party. 

That, and Wooyoung’s warmth at his side, grinning at him from ear to ear as he guided him through the crowd, greeting people and introducing his introverted friend as he went. 

Yeosang could see a few wandering eyes as they passed, some that combed over Wooyoung’s frame in appreciation a bit too long. 

Without thinking, he tensed his arm, pulling Wooyoung closer to him, until not even a silk thread could squeeze between their bodies. 

If Wooyoung noticed the way his body began to wind itself tight, he politely didn’t tease him, simply stepping with him as he guided Yeosang back to their friends, the fur of his tail occasionally brushing against Yeoang’s pants, tickling through the material. 

“Hyung! Oh-”

The two looked down, finding Eric staring up at them with big eyes. He looked left, then right, then left again. 

“Puppy.” He pointed at Wooyoung and the man grinned, nodding. 

“Mhm. And you look so cool, Eric!” 

Eric nodded, still looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Hyung?” 

“Yes, Eric?” 

“Did you break up with Sannie-Hyung?” 

The sound that left both Wooyoung and Yeosang was truly beyond human comprehension. The two stared at him, slack jawed and flabbergasted. Eric snorted himself at their responses, rocking to and fro on his heels, his temporary silver dye making his hair stand out more than ever. 

“Wha- Eric??? No?” Wooyoung recovered, eyes as wide as saucers. Eric hummed and nodded, looking over at Yeosang. 

“So you gots two boyfriends like Yeji-Noona? That’s cool! Can I pet your puppy again, Hyung?” 

Wooyoung went beet red, Yeosang blinked in surprise, stammering as Eric looked around, seemingly for Yunho. When he realized the mastiff was nowhere to be found, he pouted and turned on his heels. 

“Aw…no Yuyu…that's too bad he would've been a cool Arcanine!” He toddled off, seemingly bouncing back from the heartbreak of Yunho’s absence fairly quickly, if the way he took off towards Changbin and Yeiji as they sipped on brightly colored drinks made to look like lab experiments.

“WOAH YOU LOOK SO COOL-”

The two men stood in silence for a moment before looking at one another. 

Both were cherry red. 

Yeosang didn't make any flustered denials to the child.

Wooyoung didn't correct him, either.

Both men seemed to realize this, if the way they shifted from foot before opening their mouth in unison was anything to go by. 

“I-”

“Do you-”

They stopped instantly, peering at one another before Wooyoung coughed and shied more.

“I'm gonna head to the bathroom.” 

And there he went, his tail swaying with every step as he maneuvered through people. Yeosang rubbed his neck and shied, clearing his throat and looking around.  

Chan, Changbin, and Yeji were entertaining the children a ways away from him. 

Soobin and Yeonjun appeared to be in a deep conversation about modeling prospects. 

And San was….

“Seriously, you look really good. Are you sure you don't want to buy us a drink and chat more?”

San looked flustered, glancing between a group of three women who clearly were not afraid of the interest in their eyes. 

“No thank you, I have a partner already.”

“And~? She left you all alone at this party looking like that? Clearly she doesn't know the catch she's got in front of her.”

San smiled politely, though there was the telltale pull in his eyebrow that Yeosang could read clear with the rest of his body language. 

Confusion. Perplexion. Damn near panic.

He found his feet carrying him without a thought, the bodies in the room mere blurs as he took step after step, eyes fixed on San.

“I think I should go-”

“Aw, but we're having fun teasing you~ Surely one night won't be the worst thing, right?”

“There you are, darling. I've been looking for you.”

San perked, turning his head and finding Yeosang standing just past the crescent the three women had mad around San. They all blinked in surprise, but Yeosang stared past him, eyes locked onto San’s.

“I went to get us a drink but it looks like you wandered off while I was being indecisive. Can we choose together?” He extended his hand to him, waiting.

San moved instantly, lacing their fingers together and clearing his throat. 

“Sorry about that, Sangie. Let's go.” He let Yeosang take his hand, pressing flush against him and quickly ejecting himself from the area. 

Yeosang didn’t let his hand go instantly, instead giving him a reassuring squeeze and pulling him to the table that had various juices and sodas laid out for people to take on their own. 

San looked at their hands, gently squeezing back as he followed the outline of Yeosang’s tone arm all the way up past his shoulder and to the back of his head. 

He was tense. 

“Thank you…I have a hard time being rude to people and I’ve never…had that happen to me before…” He rubbed his arm. The folks back in Namhae didn’t look on him too fondly after he’d been outed to the entire village. San wasn’t going to go into it right now, though. Yeosang probably wasn’t interested in his life like that anyway-

“It’s not rude. They made you uncomfortable.” His tone was on the more even side, his jaw set firmly before he sighed a bit harsher through his nose and looked at San. 

“....do you want that drink now? Are you sure you’re okay?” He inquired. San blushed slightly, nodding before he glanced down between them. 

They were still holding hands. 

Yeosang realized where his line of sight had gone and quickly let go, clearing his throat and turning towards the table. 

“Banana Milk….ramune, sikye, citron tea, cola,McCol-”

“Tea…I’d like the citron tea, please.” San politely pointed and smiled in thanks when Yeosang handed him over the prepackaged tea that had been sitting in a tub of ice along with the other drinks. 

“Ah, I found you. I knew making those ears neon colors would come in handy.”

The two turned and found Wooyoung standing victoriously with his hands on his hips, smiling from ear to ear at them. San-and Yeosang’s-shoulders both relaxed as the man sauntered over, draping himself over both of their shoulders and glancing at the table. 

“Anything good?”

“There’s Cola, but it’s not your favorite brand.” Yeosang muttered, broadening his stance so Wooyoung wouldn’t fall. The man pouted a bit before shrugging and grabbing a can. 

“It’ll work. Are you two having fun?” He inquired. Yeosang pursed his lips and San shifted from foot to foot. 

“Some women were saying some really uncomfortable and flirtatious things to me a second ago but Yeosang got me the hell out of there. Thank you again, I really appreciate it.” San sent Yeosang a grateful look and the man cleared his throat, flustered. 

“I-”

“Who was it?” 

Both heads snapped over to Wooyoung, an air of annoyance and rage dripping off of him. They glanced at one another before shaking their heads in unison. 

“Wooyoung, my baby, it’s okay. Really, it’s over.” San rubbed his shoulder encouragingly. 

Yeosang shook his head. 

“It was shameless but I got him out of there. Don’t let it ruin your night.” He told him softly, the tightness in his jaw loosening the moment he saw how pissed Wooyoung had gotten. 

The man narrowed his eyes before straightening his back. 

“There’s music playing. Let’s go dancing. See if anyone wants to try some shit now that I’m here.”

Yeosang’s smile faltered. Oh…it made sense, that Wooyoung would make it know that San was his and his alone. He hated his brain, though, unable to shake the disappointment of being left here to dry while the two danced-

Oh, oh that’s Wooyoung’s hand in his. 

Oh, there they go, both of them getting dragged to the dancefloor with Wooyoung leading the charge, marching to the beat of his own drum. 

Yeosang stumbled for but a moment before he caught his balance, following Wooyoung. San recovered quickly, too, smiling so brightly, his eyes disappeared into joyful crescents, his dimples deep and pronounced. 

“The music is good, cmon boys. Can’t have anyone else getting bold with my two favorite boys, right?” Wooyoung grinned, moving with the music as if it were a song he’d heard time and time again. San and Yeosang looked flustered, but the former recovered first, dancing with Wooyoung amongst the small crowd of party goers that had gathered on the dancefloor at the center of the hall. 

Wooyoung noticed Yeosang hadn’t budged a minute into his mini dance session and made a point to twirl over to him, his tail spinning along with him before he settled with his hands around his best friend’s shoulders, sending him an inviting smile. 

“C’mon Sangie. I know you can dance. You’re one of the best I know.” He swayed with him, hips moving in a near hypnotic fashion. 

Yeosang wondered if this was going to be the end of him. Right here, in the middle of a dancefloor on Halloween. In front of his best friend and his best friend’s boyfriend. 

Yeosang looked over Wooyoung’s shoulder at San, but just like all of the previous times he’d found himself unconsciously doing so, he was only met with San’s gentle, inviting features. 

A gentle smile, a step closer, his hands on Wooyoung’s hips, dancing intimately, yet respectfully (they did have three little ones scurrying around…somewhere). 

He never seemed to hold any…uncomfortable or self conscious air around Yeosang, even during times like these. 

So…Yeosang finally put some of his apprehension aside, and just…went with the music. 

His fingers brushed against San’s as he held Wooyoung’s waist, eyes locking with him while they danced, moving to the rhythm. A brilliant smile stretched across Wooyoung’s face as he continued to dance, alternating between facing Yeosang and facing San.

“Mmm, the three of them are getting along well.” Chaerin muttered over her glass of sparkling cider, watching the way Wooyoung brought both her son and the soft spoken dog trainer they had met the other day out of their respective shells. 

“Looks like it. Hope it goes well.” Jiyong chimed in, watching as his daughter learned some Kpop dance with the help of Yeonjun and Yeji. 

The party lasted longer than expected, with no incidents past the initial trio of women trying to romance San. San and co stayed behind long after the party-goers had left, making sure the place was tidy and carrying the little ones out to Chaerin’s car.

Yeosang yawned, taking a look at his watch and grunting at the ‘12:50am’ staring back at him. He was impressed they stayed up so late, but wondered if him staying out for so long was wise in it’s own right. 

He’d had a pretty consistent sleep schedule and by this time usually, he would have been asleep. The way he nodded off was a dead giveaway for Wooyoung, and he gently nudged San. 

“Sangie is all tired.” He whispered, smiling as Yeosang let out another yawn. 

“Should head home…”Yeosang rubbed his eye and Wooyoung laughed gently.

“How about you come back to our place, I help you with the makeup, and you crash there? It’s kind of late and you look like you’re going to fall asleep standing.” Wooyoung teased him. Yeosang opened his mouth like he was going to refute the statement but inevitably he nodded, simply following them to Wooyoung’s car after waving goodbye to everyone else. 

The ride back to Wooyoung and San’s home was quiet, the silence padded out only with the sounds of the vehicle in motion and Yeosang snoring in the back seat. 

Wooyoung held San’s hand as he drove, thumb brushing along his knuckles. Neither filled the silence with conversation, only each other’s presence, while occasionally smiling to one another or laughing softly when Yeosang’s snores got a bit louder than usual. 

By time they’d arrived home, Yeosang was in a deep sleep, and not even San bending to pick him up bridal style roused him. Wooyoung looked at them, head tilted. 

“A buff bunny and a buff cat, mm?” 

“Fanasize later, I don’t want him to catch a cold.” San lightly scolded, hustling over to the door. Wooyoung moved ahead, passing him to unlock the door. 

“Take him to the guest room. I’ll be there in a second, I just need to get some things.” 

San nodded, carrying Yeosang down the hall to the aforementioned room. He stood in the center of the room holding him, however, when he realized the small conundrum he was in. 

Was he to…just put him in bed? It was inappropriate to change him, right? 

“Oh sweetheart, you look flustered.” 

San looked over his shoulder at Wooyoung as the man pulled back the covers. 

“I'll leave some clothes aside for him and he can change into them if he wakes up in the middle of the night.” he calmly instructed, removing Yeosang’s shoes as San passed with him.

“You really are overworking yourself, mmm?” He tutted, watching as his friend didn't rouse in the slightest with all the movements and jostling of San carrying him. 

Once he was in bed, Wooyoung pulled the blankets up his chest, taking out some of the makeup wipes he’d brought with him and meticulously taking off the makeup he’d applied to Yeosang. 

He hovered over him, hands steady and breath fanning over his face as he made sure every bit was gone. San leaned against the doorframe, quietly watching the two with his arms crossed. 

“Sleep well, you little hardass. I can’t have you collapsing from exhaustion, y’know.” Wooyoung murmured, reaching to grab the small rag he’d brought in along with the wipes. It was in a small bowl of warm water and once he wrang it out, he returned to Yeosang’s face, gently washing it with the warm rag. 

Yeosang cracked his eyes open part ways through the pampering, half lidded and unfocused with sleep as Wooyoung hovered over him, cupping his cheek. 

He looked up, meeting Wooyoung’s gaze. 

“Hey sleepy head. You up?” The younger man whispered. Yeosang made a noise akin to a grunt in the back of his throat and closed his eyes, pressing his cheek into his hand, nuzzling. Wooyoung exhaled softly, kissing his forehead and guiding his head back to the center of the pillow. 

“Right, of course. Good night, darling.” he muttered, standing and taking the items out, leaving with San as the two spoke in hushed tones. 

Yeosang slept on, until he felt the call of nature tugging at him an hour later. His brows furrowed and he sat up, rubbing his eye and looking around the room. 

He found the pile of clothes sitting at the foot of the bed and blushed, realizing someone carried him in. 

Wooyoung was strong, but he was almost certain it would have been San, if anyone. 

Yeosang’s heart squeezed, a flutter of something making him shiver at the thought of San carrying him. 

Has he finally lost it? What’s gotten into him?

Shaking his head, Yeosang grabbed the clothes, changing and making his way down the hall towards the bathroom. He knew Wooyoung’s home like the back of his hand. Guest room was furthest from the stairs while the bathroom was across the hall from the Master bedr-

“N-nn wait, slow down-”

Yeosang blinked, hand pausing on the door handle of the bathroom, looking at the closed door to his best friend’s room. It took all of two seconds for him to realize what was happening beyond, and he felt his heart nearly tumble roll down his chest. 

He should probably go, he was sure this wasn’t appropriate for him to be watching-

“Pretty baby. Did it feel good? Having Yeosangie come to your rescue? Holding your hand? It felt nice having both of your hands on me. Wah~ Sannie, are you paying attention?”

Yeosang’s eyes grew. He turned and stared at the door, as if the longer he did, he could see inside. It was Wooyoung, clear as day. 

What on Earth….?

“H-hot…nn it was hot I liked it-Ah! Fuck, right there please!”

Yeosang thought it was silly, all the media he’d consumed in his life mentioning pinching in order to make sure one was not dreaming, but he suddenly understood the sentiment as he heard San’s moans increase in volume before suddenly they were muffled. 

Beyond the door, Wooyoung covered his mouth, eyes narrowed in delight at the way San trembled below him, his rabbit ears still situated on his ears, albeit a bit haphazardly. He couldn’t settle on where his gaze would stay, switching between watching his flustered face, and watching the way his cock slid in and out of the country man. He practically purred at the way San clenched, desperate to keep him from slipping out of him. 

Wooyoung rolled his hips, speeding up as he growled sweet nothings and filth into dimly let room. 

“You look so pretty like this, darling. All splayed out, taking cock like the cute little rabbit I made you into. I wanna share this sight with Yeosang, y’know.”

“Please, Wooyoung. I c-can’t take it-”

“You can, baby. I know it. Look at how excited you are, gripping me tighter every time I thrust in. Do you think Yeosangie would take his time with you? Or would he claim you, make sure those chicks from the party know exactly who you belong to?” he shuddered, having to adjust himself before his desire got ahead of him and he ended up accidentally pulling out. 

Wooyoung moved his hand away from San’s mouth, running his fingers down San’s throat, admiring the little bites he had placed all over the tanned canvas. 

“You’re so pretty, baby. You wear my love bites well. I wonder how many Yeosangie would leave on you if we told him how we felt. He does have such pretty canines~”

San clenched, back arching as he held onto Wooyoung’s wrist, grinding down to meet Wooyoung half way with each thrust. 

Outside, Yeosang stared at the door slack jawed, his heart beating nearly out of his chest as he heard the two have sex, his name being dropped quite liberally between the two of them as they got closer and closer to their collective climax. 

He startled into focus and quietly made his way downstairs to the guest bathroom, eyes wide as the situation rolled around in his mind. 

His best friend, and the man he’d been in love with for years had been having sex with his boyfriend, and both of them had tossed his name around in the bedroom. 

Yeosang stood over the sink after he washed his hands, staring at his reflection for a moment before he peeked out of the bathroom, straining his ears to see if the men were still going at it. 

Both of them were quite energetic…were they the types who preferred to go for multiple rounds? 

Yeosang blushed and shook his head, trying to knock the inappropriate thoughts out of his head. 

He quietly made his way back upstairs, casting a sidelong glance at the master bedroom as he passed. 

He could hear muffled talking, thought it wasn’t nearly as loud and clear as it had been before. Perhaps they’d settled down. The dog trainer found himself staring at the door for much longer than he’d intended to, fidgeting for a moment before he quickly made his way back down to the guest room, the small part in his brain that was afraid of the door spontaneously opening while he was there carrying his feet much faster than they had been going before. 

Inside the room, however, Wooyoung lay with his arms draped around San, exchanging slow, languid kisses and tired smiles. 

“You alright? Do you need any water or anything? You were a lot more vocal tonight than usual when you’re bottoming~” he teased. San hid his face in the crook of Wooyoung’s neck, his face hot with embarrassment. 

“‘M fine.” 

Wooyoung grinned and pressed a kiss to his head, closing his eyes and nuzzling him. His brain was full of domestic and warm thoughts of what he’d make tomorrow morning, something to see his two favorite men smile.

Before he could settle on breakfast, he felt the tug of sleep dragging him under. Somewhere, in his tired haze, he could have sworn he heard the faint creak of a door opening and closing. 

Must have been more tired than he thought. Probably nothing. 

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

     November 1st

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“Yeosangie~ Darling~”

Yeosang’s eyes opened in an instant, with him startling for a brief moment when he realized he wasn’t in his home. It took him a few moments still for everything to flood back into his mind, clicking into place. 

The party, the women hitting on San, his hand in his, their hands on Wooyoung-

Wooyoung growling his name into the air as he and San made love and the pleased purrs he’d gotten in response. 

Yeosang blushed, felt his blood rushing even through his sleep addled brain, when suddenly the door opened and a blur of furr entered. 

A pair of cocoa brown eyes stared at him and he looked up in surprise as Yunho sat at the end of the guest bed. 

“How did you-”

“I woke up really early and figured your baby missed you so I got up before sunrise and went to your house to bring Yuyu here. I took him for a walk and cleaned up already, so don’t worry! I’m making breakfast for everyone so take your time and rest more if you need to do so. You were dead asleep when San brought you in so sleep more if you need to, baby.” Wooyoung stood in the doorway, speaking to him in what can only be considered a ‘sweetheart’s voice’. 

Yeosang blushed slightly and nodded, watching as Wooyoung turned and walked away after that, leaving the door cracked so Yunho could come and go as he pleased. 

Yunho glanced at his master, tail wagging as he subtly scooched closer, lowering his head for pets. He got them as Yeosang continued to gather his bearings. 

Once he did and begun to make his way down to the kitchen, he was met with San at the stove, stirring something with his bare back to him. Yeosang felt ridiculous at the way his eyes instantly locked onto the telltale bites he could see at the sides of his neck. 

“You’re so pretty, baby. You wear my love bites well. I wonder how many Yeosangie would leave on you if we told him how we felt. He does have such pretty canines~”

Yeosang found himself unconsciously licking at his canines, blushing once he realized what he was doing moments later. His eyes drifted down to San’s ass, a pair of nefarious sweatpants hiding the true shape of it from view, unlike the outfit from yesterday Wooyoung had put him in. 

“G-good morning, San.” 

San perked and turned around, sending him a dazzling smile, though Yeosang could see a clear dusting of pink across his cheekbones as he cleared his throat. 

“Good morning. How did you sleep? Are my clothes comfy? We’re around the same size so I wanted to grab something comfortable.”

Yeosang looked down at his own attire, nodding once. So it was San’s clothes they’d given him. 

“It’s comfortable. Thank you.” He muttered, looking back at the ex farm hand. San smiled at him and turned back around to the stove, seemingly fine with Yeosang seeing him half nude like he was. 

Then again, they were moaning for him last night, it was seeming less and less likely for them to actually mind him seeing them in any state of undress. 

“Ah, both of my babies are here, perfect. One of you come taste my cake.” 

Wooyoung cut into a small, flan-shaped cake, and the two watched as warm chocolate oozed out of it, much to his delight. San put a hand on his hip, sending him a gentle, good natured, yet exasperated look. 

“We’re supposed to have dessert after we eat.” 

Yeosang walked over despite the pout on Wooyoung’s face. The move seemed to make him perk in delight. He smiled at his friend, moving to hand him the dessert fork. 

Yeosang grabbed his wrist, instead.

He wanted to blame his actions on sleep. On the grogginess of his mind with all the emotions swirling around him. 

The man could unpack that later. For now, he leaned in, lips closing along the prongs of the fork and almost agonizingly slow, pulling the slice of cake off of it, a dribble of chocolate running down his bottom of his lip. 

Wooyoung, for his credit, stayed still, looking into Yeosang’s eyes with a smile on his face. 

“How is it you make a mess even when I’m holding the fork?” He teased, moving his hand up to wipe the chocolate off with his thumb. 

Deciding to press a bit more, Yeosang flicked his tongue out, licking him in the process and licking off the chocolate as soon as Wooyoung’s hand got close enough. 

“You know I’m a messy eater.” 

Wooyoung looked slightly taken aback, blinking owlishly, his hand stuttering uselessly midair before he brought it down, shyly searching Yeosang’s face. 

Without a doubt, his mind went somewhere southward. 

“Alright, messy eating or no, no one needs to go spoiling their appetite by eating chocolate before the actual bulk of breakfast.” San scolded, turning the stove off and pointing his cooking chopsticks over to the duo. 

“We already fed Yunho, you two go sit down and no more chocolate until you eat breakfast.” He lectured, going into the cabinet to get bowls. Wooyoung glances at Yeosang, curiously searching his face and body language before he put the lava cake on a heated plate in the center of the table, moving to help San with distributing breakfast. 

Yeosang sat down, pulling his hair back into a low ponytail so his bangs were out of his face, watching the two move about subtly. 

Whereas San had plenty of skin to show this morning, Wooyoung was in an overgrown t shirt and pj pants, his neck also littered with bites and marks, along with the faint lines of nail marks Yeosang could see thanks to the ill fitted shirt whenever it shifted to show more of his back and shoulders. 

Yeosang found himself picking up on everything now that he was actually looking for it. Wooyoung had always been the touchy feely type of man, but Yeosang found San also touching him a lot as they got everything situated on the table. 

A brush against his arm as he leaned over to set a cup of tea down, a graze across his shoulders in passing, his hand touching his back as he rested it there to ask how much of what he wanted for side dishes. 

The two of them touched him as much as they touched each other and he found his mind wandering easily. 

“Okay, everyone eat up and enjoy~” Wooyoung encouraged, eagerly digging in. San and Yeosang followed suit, with the three of them eating in comfortable silence. 

Yeosang only wished his mind would be as quiet as his mouth. 

Instead, it kept bringing him back to what he’d heard. What he’d seen. It made him think back to past behaviors, have the two of then honesty been seeing him in this light, or had it been some kind of…one off roleplay?

“Your brows are furrowing, Sangie. You alright?” Wooyoung voice called his mind into focus and he looked up. He’d been sitting with his chopsticks hovering near his mouth, zoned out. He blinked. Once, twice, before clearing his throat. 

“Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.” he apologized and both of their expressions soured. 

“Is there anything we can help with?” San offered. Wooyoung pursed his lips, leaning on the table to eye him closely. 

“I saw your eye bags when I washed your face last night. You’re not sleeping well, do you want us to make you dinner so you don’t have to stay up cooking after training? Or deliver it to you for lunch?” He spoke a mile a minute while San nodded from beside him, rubbing his thigh and staring at Yeosang. 

….fuck it, right? 

“I would like that, actually.” 

The two of them blinked, seemingly not expecting him actually to take the offer. It took only a moment before they nodded, chattering quickly to themselves. 

“San, darling, I think I can come up with a nutritional meal plan for the next three weeks and we can alternate lunches and dinners and work around our schedules at the kitchen to make this work.” Wooyoung murmured, tapping his chin. San nodded, smiling as he looked over at Yeosang. 

“Just let me know what your favorite foods are, and I’ll do my best, okay? I still have plenty of garlic that's ready for use, I just hope you don’t get tired of it in the dishes…” He trailed off, tapping his chin. Yeosang spoke softly. 

“I don’t think that will be a problem.” He gently offered. The two of them looked at each other before grinning. 

“Great!” 

-

Yeosang would be the first to admit he was often too aloof for his own good when it came to anything not regarding his trainees. 

However, when he focused, his mind and eyes were as sharp as they came. 

When San and Wooyoung would stop by to see him training, eyes fixed on his every move, perking as he gave orders to both dog and human trainees, he noticed. 

When they stopped by the bookstore on his days in and would occasionally peer at him while pretending they were engrossed in a book they hadn’t turned the page of in five minutes, he noticed. 

When Wooyoung would plop down halfway in his lap after bringing over dinner and San would put his arm over the back of the couch, fingers gently touching the nape of Yeosang’s neck every time he stretched his arm, he noticed. 

The way their eyes followed him on days their friend group had time off to work out in the gym Chan, Changbin, and Soobin worked in, he noticed. 

And here, with Wooyoung’s arms crossed as he stared Lee down, eyes narrowed as an unamused look settled on his face, hostility rolling off of him in quiet waves while San stood at his side, lips pursed, displeasure on his face, Yeosang noticed. Lee didn’t back down, narrowing his own gaze right back at him.

“I don’t know why it is you two always pop up when I’m trying to talk to him, but it’s getting on my nerves, if I can be brutally honest. Who even are you two? His friends? That’s kind of toxic. Can’t you see I’m trying to talk to him privately?” Lee glared and San slightly put his body between Wooyoung and the man, seeing Wooyoung perk in agitation. 

“We’re sorry-”

“No, the fuck we are not.”

San cleared his throat. “-but we’re just trying to keep Yeosang on schedule.” 

Lee looked at him incredulously. 

“By cock blocking him? Unless the two of you are his boyfriends, why are you so up his ass huh? Not a dog in sight and yet here you are every other day, pining after him like a bunch of school girls. Don’t you feel embarrassed?”

Even San took offense this time, his brows twitching and his lips pursing. 

Wooyoung grit his teeth, pushing past him and opening his mouth to tear into Lee when a loud, resounding bark startled the three of them (and the pomeranian in Lee’s arms). 

Their attention turned to the left, finding Yeosang’s quiet, yet angered gaze fixed in their direction with Yunho standing on giard, eyes fixed on them and tail straight up, alert. Wooyoung looked away first. Lee puffed his chest up and huffed. 

“Oh good, you’re here. These guys picked a fight with me and-”

“Everyone is dismissed today. Lee, I will be speaking to you before our next class, so be there early. San, Wooyoung, come.” Yeosang jutted his chin towards the door and turned on his heel, not waiting for any response from any of the men. Lee blinked in surprise, seemingly baffled that he was getting scolded while Wooyoung and San sent him a sidelong glare before falling in line behind Yeosang. 

They walked all the way to Yeosang’s house, in a tense silence that made the men feel more and more like they were kids in trouble. 

San squeezed Wooyoung’s hand, watching Yeosang’s back as he walked ahead with Yunho right at his side. Wooyoung glared at the sidewalk, face flush with embarrassed. 

They didnt pick a fight…mostly. They simply…stopped him from bullshitting. That’s all. 

….maybe it was a bit fight-picky. 

But also fuck him, he was trying to slink up and steal Yeosang. 

Wooyoung’s head tumble rolled in agitation. Yeosang wasn’t his, but he was his best friend and at the very least he would be damned if he let some sleazy asshole slink in and-

“Wooyoung. San.” 

Both of them perked, looking up as Yeosang opened the door to his home. They came inside, avoiding his gaze and toeing their shoes off. 

Wooyoung took a deep breath once the front door was closed and locked up.

“I wasn’t picking a fight with him, I just don’t fucking like him.” 

San rubbed his arm. He didn’t seem to have any explanation for his side. Yeosang stared at the two of them for a long while, crossing his arms. 

“Why don’t you like him?” 

“Because! He’s fucking weird.” 

His eyes narrowed at his friend and his boyfriend, face betraying none of the thoughts in his head. 

“And?”

“And he’s always flirting with you and that’s so inappropriate and fuck him, Yeosang.” Wooyoung hissed. San rubbed his back. 

“Maybe we should calm down a bit-”

“I don’t very much think either of you would appreciate me fucking him.”

The silence that stretched between the three of them was palpable. Yunho looked up at the men before making a gruff noise in the back of his throat and disappearing deeper into the home, seemingly sensing this was not a conversation his presence was needed for. 

San went beet red and Wooyoung nearly choked. Yeosang looked from either man and then dropped his arms. 

None of this really had a ‘smooth’ way of transitioning into conversation wise, did it?

“You both are sexually attracted to me, right? And Lee’s constant flirting bothers you?” 

He didn’t think their eyes could grow any wider. If it weren’t for the severity of the situation, he might have broken face and laughed at the expressions on their faces. 

“We…Yeosang-” San tried to recover first but ended up stumbling, his eyes darting all across Yeosang’s face, seemingly searching for disgust or anger in the man’s expression. 

On the contrary, Yeosang’s face was a perfect poker-worthy one as he looked at them both. Wooyoung shifted from foot to foot, stammering before he tightened his jaw. 

Well, if it’s all going to go down in flames, it might as well have some fireworks, right?

“I have been in love with you for years. If this is how it comes out, I’d like you to get that one part right, please. I am not just sexually attracted to you. I have been in love with you for as long as I can actually remember, thank you very much.” 

Yeosang’s expression finally shifted, brows going up in surprise before he looked to San. 

“I…s’pose you could say I’ve gotten sweet for ya, too. It’s not just a physical thing, I swear it-”

Yeosang moved to stand in front of them both, looking for any signs of deception, but of course, there was none. Just the understandably panicked expressions of the two men in front of him. 

“Is it going to be a problem, Yeosang?” Wooyoung quietly asked, his voice much softer than his normal tone was. Yeosang shook his head and let out a shaky laugh. 

“No, it makes it easier for me, actually.” 

Wooyoung blinked and felt the cogs in his mind grind to a stop when Yeosang cupped his face. His eyes grew once more and his lips parted as he looked up at him. 

“Is it okay? Can I finally kiss you instead of wishing I could?” He spoke softly himself and Wooyoung found himself nodding numbly, closing his eyes when Yeosang leaned in. 

He was grateful for both Yeosang and San, in all honestly. Had they not have been there, he was sure his knees would have given out and he would have folded the moment he felt lips against his own. 

Yeosang put an arm around his waist, pulling him closer, subconsciously keeping him from backing away and falling. When they broke the kiss, Wooyoung touched his lips, stunned into silence. Yeosang glanced beside them at the deer-in-headlights expression on San. 

“Come on. We might as well lay all of our emotions on the table tonight so we’re not misunderstanding, right?” 

San moved without needing to be told twice, leaning in and initiating the kiss with Yeosang, cupping the back of his neck with a callused hand, kneading and squeezing. Yeosang softly groaned, his free hand finding its way to San’s hip, now touching both of them, keeping the three of them tethered. 

When the kiss broke, Yeosang hummed and smiled softly, as if a weight had been lifted. 

“Well, that was a lot easier than expected.” he laughed, clearly the nerves he hadn’t been showing them before pouring out with his giggles. 

“C’mon. We can eat the leftovers from dinner yesterday and talk.” he offered, moving into the home and leaving the couple stunned. Wooyoung glanced at San and the country man looked just as dumbfounded as he did. 

They quickly recovered, darting deeper into the home and following behind Yeosang. 

“S-so….this is….sudden….?” Wooyoung tried to sift around and figure out what had brought this on. Yeosang dipped into the fridge, passing them all a bottle of package tea before leaning on the counter in his kitchen. 

“Halloween.”

They looked back at him in confusion. 

“H…alloween?” San parroted. 

“You two were having sex and talking about me.”

This time, Yeosang did laugh at the comical way both of them tensed, eyes wide as they stared at him. Wooyoung was the one to stutter through the response first. 

“Y-You were awake-”

“I had to go to the bathroom and I overheard you both. And it made me think back. All the touches, gazes, the way you kiss my cheeks and my face, Wooyoung. The way you didn’t tell Eric he was wrong you with having ‘two boyfriends like Yeji’, the hostility towards Yeji…I started noticing, paying attention better. You both want me.” 

They simply stared back, cheeks beet red, flushed and flustered. Yeosang could feel himself blushing too, his hands shaking more than his usual tremors could be blamed for. But, he had to continue. He had to proceed. 

“So…I’ll ask you upfront with no uncertainty, no miscommunication, do you two of you want me to be your boyfriend?”

“Holy fucking shit is this real-”/”Absoutely, yes.” 

Wooyoung and San responded instantly. Yeosang blushed and cleared his throat, smiling softly despite the blush creeping all the way to his ears. 

“It’s real, Wooyoung. That’s not a response, d-darling.” the term of endearment left his lips with a flustered stammer, though that didn’t seem to turn Wooyoung off. He smiled softly, seeming to recover much faster than the other two. 

“A response? I’d love to call you both my boyfriend, darling. Is that better?” He inquired. Yeosang rolled his eyes, blushing slightly. 

“Whatever, just help me with warming the things up so we can have dinner.” 

The two of them moved instantly, and Yeosang realized fairly quickly, they were a dangerous duo. 

Suddenly he was treated to kisses to his jaw as Wooyoung passed, San’s calloused hands on his hips and his chest to his back when he turned to the counter to slice some fresh fruit for dessert, hands combing through his fluffy blonde locks, roaming over his arms and the chuckles that came after the goosebumps. 

They were going to be the end of him. He was sure of it. 

Even when he sat down to enjoy tv and unwind with….his new boyfriends (he was going to have to get used to that), he found that Wooyoung was a lot more devious when he wasn’t holding back. 

He had plopped down with Yeosang in the middle. He grabbed his hand, squeezing and holding it, tracing his fingers over his knuckles, running his thumb along the outline of the veins. San sat on the other side of him, head on his shoulder, seemingly already relaxed and acclimated to the new dynamic, his body tucked under the blanket that had been on the couch. 

Wooyoung’s hand found its way to his thigh eventually, kneading him like a cat as he pressed kisses along the right side of his neck, smiling at every little groan and gasp that had left his lips when he did. 

“You’re n-not watching the tv-”

“I’m not.” Wooyoung affirmed, squeezing his thigh even more, purring at him. Yeosang looked at him, heart thrumming in his chest. Wooyoung met his gaze and smiled softly. 

“Want me to stop?” 

Yeosang glanced down, his excitement had manifested itself clear as day.  

“...we should probably move to a more comfortable room.” was the response. San perked from beside them and sat up, the drowsiness that was in his body suddenly gone. 

Yeosang stood first, hissing at the telltale throbbing between his legs, and took the first step towards his room. 

Wooyoung and San were right behind him, and from the occasional bump into furniture and the sound of kissing, he could tell they had already started behind him. He opened the door to his room, turning and hooking his fingers into the waistband of their pants, pushing them both to the bed. 

“You two are insatiable.” He muttered, though he didn’t seem to mind when San turned, running a hand up the underside of his shirt, feeling his abs up before kissing him. 

“Can you really blame me when Wooyoung is our boyfriend? You’ll understand soon enough.” he chuckled against his lips before coaxing him into a deeper kiss. Yeosang groaned softly, pressing back and kissing him enthusiastically, though he choked when he felt the cool air of the room touch his dick. 

His eyes dropped down towards the bed, flustered as Wooyoung grabbed him, stroking him slowly while pressing kisses up the length. 

“Just give me a moment. Poor baby~ Must’ve been cold, mm?” He inquired, alternating between stroking fast and slow, a victorious smile stretching across his face. 

San knelt down beside him, kissing and nibbling at his abdomen. 

“H-How long…mmm…how long have you two wanted to do this with me?” Yeosang inquired. Wooyoung looked up at him, responding only by sinking down on his cock, holding his gaze. Yeosang growled, fingers twitching as Wooyoung slowly bobbed his head. 

San glanced beside him and then tutted. 

“Good luck focusing. He’s really greedy, y’know.” He moved around behind Yeosang, taking his hands and pinning them lightly behind his back, pressing against him. Yeosang didn’t tense, in face he leaned back in his grip, using the other man as a crutch while they both watched Wooyoung bob his head, working his way lower and lower.

“W-Wooyoung-” Yeosang moaned, thighs flexing as the man sunk lower, kneading and fondling his thighs before reaching to cup the back of them. It was to ground himself as he pulled himself forward, bobbing his head faster to take him deeper down his throat. 

“Can I touch you more, too?” San murmured into his ear, his free hand running over Yeosang’s arm. He nodded, shuddering as the lewd noises coming from between his legs from Wooyoung increased in volume. 

Wooyoung was making quite the mess, spittle running down his chin as he worked to take Yeosang further down his throat, eyelids fluttering closed despite his occasional gags. San ran his hand down Yeosang’s chest, fingers brushing over his nipples and smiling when he heard the sharp inhale come from him. 

“Here? Does it feel good?” He whispered, lips trailing over the shell of his ear, circling his nipple teasingly before lightly pinching, his dimples appearing when he drew a shuddering “fuck, yes” from the older man. 

“Can you promise to keep your hands here so I can use both of mine on you?” San coaxed, his cock undeniably hard against Yeosang’s ass as he flexed his fingers along his wrists. Yeosang nodded, deciding to let the two of them explore his body however they liked. 

San gently removed his hand from his wrists, turning his head to the side to kiss him languidly, pressing his bare chest to Yeosang’s back. 

Yeosang grabbed his own forearms as he kept his arms behind him, his body swaying as Wooyoung pulled his thighs, making him thrust and hit the back of his throat. San fondled his pectorals, lightly raking blunt nails down his chest, pulling soft, raspy groans out of him. 

“S-slow down, Wooyoung. You'll c-choke.” He stuttered, knees wobbling as Wooyoung looked up at him in defiance. He moved his hands from Yeosang’s thighs and cupped his balls with one, grabbing the base with the other as he pumped him in time with the bobs of his heaf, his eyes dark and focused. 

San looked over his shoulder, eyes half lidded as he continued teasing Yeosang’s nipples and chest. 

“There's no stopping him when he has that look in his eye.” San let out a faux sigh, though Yeosang was in no condition to respond to him, his breathing increasing in frequency until he was panting, grabbing his arms so tightly it left indents in his arms. 

“W-Wooyoung!”

Wooyoung eagerly swallowed every drop of cum, a pleased spark of chaos in his eye as he pulled up with a slow, lewd ‘pop’.

“I've been wanting to do that for years, my love.”

Yeosang opened his mouth to say something, but it fell short when San's callused hand reached around, stroking his messy cock as he spoke to Wooyoung, his satoori dripping into his speech. 

“You’re still hard. Have you been pent up, Yeosang-ah? Mmm? When was the last time you got to let it out?” He inquired, nibbling and kissing the soft spot behind his ear. Yeosang’s knees buckled and he slipped from his grip, thankfully landing on the bed. 

Wooyoung sat up and pulled him closer, kissing him and sharing the taste of his release with him. Yeosang growled and kissed him feverishly, pushing him back and crawling on top of him. 

Wooyoung purred and smiled devilishly at him, licking at his lips. 

“Turn around for us, Yeosangie.” 

Yeosang held his gaze for a long, heated moment, and nodded, turning around. He soon found out why when Wooyoung made himself comfortable, hugging him from behind as San knelt down to nuzzle Yeosang’s cock, looking up at him. 

“Can I have it?” 

God, these two are going to make him fall apart, aren’t they? This is how he was going to die.

Yeosang nodded, watching the smile that stretched over San’s face as he sat back on his haunches. 

“Do you have lube?” 

He blinked. His face went beet red and Wooyoung made a small noise behind him, clearly pouting. 

“I will go to the store right fucking now” 

“I-its in the drawer behind San.” 

San moved in a flash, opening the drawer and shying when he saw a few…interesting toys in the drawer, as well. 

“So you have toys, you just haven’t been using them?” 

“I-I’ve been busy!”

Wooyoung reached down and stroked him, pouting against his ear. 

“My poor baby….Our poor baby. We can fix it baby. Don’t worry, your pretty cock won’t be pent up by time we’re done with you.” 

Yeosang’s heart thrummed in excitement as San came back, biting his lip. 

“He’s kind of…big, isn’t he?” He mused, eyeing Yeosang’s cock. It throbbed in response, and he inhaled sharply. Wooyoung didn’t seem perturbed, squeezing his cock and thumbing the head, smearing spittle and precum over it shamelessly. 

“Hung like a horse, yes. If you’re worried, I can go first. You can have my mouth.” 

“Wooyoung, oh my god-”

Wooyoung grinned victoriously at the shy outburst, Yeosang’s lisp more pronounced. The two of them traded places and Wooyung got himself situated, putting a pillow under his own hips and perking his ass up high, going nearly cross eyed as San stood in front of him, his cock in his face. Wooyoung grabbed and stroked his cock, teasing his head with his tongue as San reached over him to pour the lube directly over his rim. 

Yeosang watched the two of them, eyes fixated on Wooyoung’s hole as San pushed two fingers into him, purring praises above him as Wooyoung clenched around them. 

“C’mon baby, make sure to loosen up for our Yeosangie. Be a good boy for him, yeah?” San purred, his hands steady as one worked him open and the other spread his cheek so Yeosang could see every lewd detail. 

Wooyoung’s muffled moans went straight to his cock, the lube running down past his rim and down his balls as San gradually sped his fingers up, scissoring him open. 

“Come closer, Sangie. Touch him, he loves having someone touch and caress him.” He purred, though he jolted and swore under his breath when Wooyoung swallowed hard around his cock. 

Yeosang obeyed, coming closer and running his hands over Wooyoung’s thighs, up to the globes of his cheeks, and then moving down past his spine. 

He gripped one of his shoulders, kneading the muscle there firmly as his cock sat flush against his ass. 

“Good boy. Are you almost there? Is Sannie’s stretching you so good, isn’t he?” He purred, leaning in to kiss San, chasing his lips. Wooyoung whimpered below them, rolling his hips back to try and grind his ass on Yeosang. 

When Wooyoung kissed him, Yeosang felt like it was a battle for who was controlling the kiss. One pushes, the other pushes back, it had years of repressed emotions in it, unleashed in a not so silent clash between the two. 

When he and San kissed, the trainer felt the tentative feeling behind it, the cautious, yet eager exploration, feeling out the new man while leaving himself open for Yeosang to do the same. 

Yeosang felt like a pervert for thinking it, but the two of them made him want to ruin them. 

That would…probably be a conversation for a different night. Tonight had been more adventurous than Yeosang ever expected his sexual encounters to go already. 

“H-Hurry, fuck, please hurry.” Wooyoung complained, popping his mouth off and whimpering. Yeosang broke the kiss with San and moved to slick himself up properly, looking down at him with an affectionate, quiet gaze. 

Wooyoung looked back at him, giving his hips a shake. 

“I love you.” 

Yeosang held his waist with one hand, purring in gratitude at San for holding Wooyoung’s cheeks spread. 

“I love you too.” 

Finally sinking into Wooyoung nearly made him fall apart in an instant. The smaller man moaned loudly, clenching the blanket tight in his fist before he shuddered, back arched tight like a bow. 

“You okay baby?” San whispered, gently kneading and massaging his cheeks. Wooyoung nodded and tried to move his hips desperately. 

“Move, move, move please I need it.” 

Yeosang slowly rolled his hips, grinding deep into him. San smiled when he heard the way Wooyoung sighed in delight, kneading his thighs and moaning for Yeosang.

The dog trainer reaffirmed his grip on his hips and set a deep, rhythmic pace, watching the way Wooyoung clung to San for dear life. 

“R-right there nn like that, please, please-” He moaned looking up when San cupped his face, tilting his face up. 

“Go on, tell me how good he feels. You’ve been waiting so long for him, tell us.” He encouraged, licking at his lips. Wooyoung shuddered, eyes fluttering as Yeosang began grinding faster, perking in interest. 

“Cmon, Woo. Tell me. You had so much to say to San on Halloween. Let me hear it.” He reached between his legs stroking him as he kissed over his tattoo. 

“Fuck! N-Nnn feels…fuck he feels so good I’ve wanted it for so long. S-Sannie he’s so good, y-you and him make me feel so fucking good I’m going to go nnn-mmm~!” Wooyoung’s babbling was cut short by a feverish kiss, San’s hand threaded in his hair, tugging his head back as he kissed him. 

Yeosang watched the two of them, not realizing he’d left finger-sized indents on his hips as he sped up, rocking the bed as he thrusted faster into him. 

“Good. T-that’s good baby, I hear you. I’m sorry for making you wait. Hold onto Sannie. Let him ground you.” He spread his knees apart, hooking his hands around Wooyoung’s thighs, pulling him back to meet his powerful thrusts. Wooyoung cried out and shuddered, mouth falling open, eyes unfocused as Yeosang’s cock pressed even deeper.

“Yes! Yes, please, please nn hold me S-San fuck, ah!” Wooyoung clung to him, burying his face in the crook of his neck. San smiled, looking over at Yeosang, holding his gaze. 

“D-don’t think I’m leaving you out. You mm…can have my mouth, o-okay? I’m not as good as-fuck, don’t clench like that-mmmm…fuck, I’m not as good as Wooyoung but I can t-tryyyy oh fuck-” Yeosang grit his teeth, brows furrowed as Wooyoung moved his hips back and forth, fucking himself on Yeosang’s cock, eager to milk another orgasm out of him. 

“You don’t have to be Wooyoung. You just have to be you. You’re my boyfriend, too.” San let Wooyoung lean on him and scooted forward, pinning him between the two of them before kissing Yeosang, this time with a more claiming urgency in them. 

“Your mouth feels good as it is. Just…mm like you are~” he smiled. 

Yeosang shuddered, though he stilled when Wooyoung tugged at his hand, shakily muttering a ‘w-wait-’ under his breath. He paused instantly, panting like a wild animal before he looked at Wooyoung in confusion. 

“D-Did I hurt you?” He inquired. Wooyoung shook his head. 

“Mmm, no baby, I just want to ride you.” 

Yeosang felt his heart skip. He moved around to lie down, holding Wooyoung steady as he came over to straddle him, knees at either side of his hips. He purred, running his hands over Yeosang’s body. 

“Much better. Now you and I can both share Sannie’s cock. He’s been such a good kitten for us, right?” He grinned. Yeosang panted and pressed into him, groaning and letting his head fall back, licking his lips. 

“I mm…seem to remember him being a rabbit.”

Wooyoung sat fully, grinding his hips in a circle.

“He certainly fucks like one, isn’t that right, Sannie?” He purred, grinding and bouncing on his cock after getting his bearings. San scooted closer, standing beside them and yelping when the two childhood friends yanked him closer, each with a hand on his thigh. 

Yeosang leaned in first, gently rubbing his cheek along the heated length of San’s dick, nuzzling before he slowly looked up at him, eyes dark with newly unlocked want. San swallowed thickly, biting his lip when Yeosang took an experimental lick. He held his gaze and continued his licks, eventually turning into kisses that lasted longer, and longer, until he wrapped his lips around the crown of his cock. 

San shuddered, seeing Wooyoung grin wildly, his hands splayed across Yeosang’s abs, riding him at his own pace. The bed creaked and shook, though it held firm while Yeosang closed his eyes, slowly bobbing his head. He took his time, realizing he wouldn’t be able to slide San fully down his throat quite yet. San didn’t rush him, instead drawling sweet nothings to the two of them, his and finding a place on the back of Yeosang’s head. 

Not pushing, just grounding himself. 

Wooyoung purred and bent down, his chest flush against Yeosang’s, as he licked around the seal of his lips, looking up at San before leaving messy tongue kisses to the length of San’s cock Yeosang couldn’t fit, his ass still slapping against Yeosang’s thighs to the beat of some unheard song. 

The two city boys alternated between Yeosang blowing San and Wooyoung doing so, then both of them sharing a sloppy kiss with the head of San’s cock between their lips. 

All of it was…nearly desperate, uncoordinated, yet the most electrifying situation any of them had been through. 

The climax was, by all intents and purposes, messy. 

Both Wooyoung and Yeosang panted, their faces covered in San’s cum. Wooyoung sat firmly, having milked Yeosang’s second orgasm out, a pleased shudder running up and down his spine before he made a mess of Yeosang’s abdomen, a few pearls of cum even landing on his chest. 

The three took a bit longer than they were each used to to focus back on reality. When they did, Wooyoung let out a tired laugh, smiling from ear to ear. 

“There we mm…go. Holy shit if I knew that was going to go so well, I would have asked you to be our boyfriend sooner.” He chuckled. Yeosang ran a hand through his hair and laughed tiredly. 

“I…I don’t think it would have quite gone the same without all of the lead up but sure.” 

San blushed and leaned down to gently move Yeosang’s bangs out of his face, kissing at his birthmark. 

“T-Thank you. I’m sorry I made such a mess of you two. I-I’m sorry, where is the bathroom, I should clean ya up and-”

Yeosang pulled him into a kiss, shutting him up with a quiet, deep claim. When he finally broke the kiss, he purred, smiling softly. 

“Let’s take it easy. One step then the other. We can clean up with a shower, change the sheets, and we’ll be okay.” he smiled and looked over at Wooyoung, smiling at the adoring look in his eyes as he quietly ran his hands over Yeosang’s abdomen. 

“Yeah, let’s do that and hurry back. I want Yeosang in the middle tonight.” He suggested, slowly raising his hips and groaning at the mess that spilled from him. Yeosang went beet red and picked him up, arms flexing. 

“Y-You should have stayed there, y-you’re gonna make a mess!” 

“You can always put it back inside of me~”

“Shut the f-”

The two bickered as Yeosang rushed him down the hall, a chuckling San following right behind them. 

It took a while to make sure everyone-namely Wooyoung-was clean and it was made no easier in part because of the roaming hands-again, Wooyoung- but once the trio had returned and changed the sheets, they climbed back inside, situating themselves with Yeosang in the middle, his arm around Wooyoung and San’s leg tossed around his waist. 

It was…comfortable, warm. And in a weird way, the three of them slotted together like puzzle pieces. Yeosang felt gentle nibbles to his neck and glanced over at San, surprised that he found him tiredly biting and kissing him. 

“San?” 

“Mm…didn’t leave enough…mm…marks….”He trailed off, clearly nodding off. Yeosang smiled and closed his eyes, lifting his neck up. Wooyoung seemed to get the message, too, and both of them began to gently kiss and nibble at his neck.

The door opened a crack on its own, and moments later, there was the sound of audible hiffles. Yeosang glanced up and found a pair of familiar eyes staring at him. He laughed tiredly. 

“Yes, Yunho. Coast is clear. Sleep.”

The three shared tired chuckles as the bear of a dog climbed up, situating himself at the foot of the bed. 

After one last round of gentle kisses, the three fell into a comfortable night’s rest, the first one of many. 

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

   November 26th

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“Happy birthday!”

Wooyoung smiled at the center of the table, his cheeks hurting from how much he had been smiling. San finished lighting the candles on the cake before him. Yeosang shifted from foot, anxiety reading clear on his face. 

The cake before them was something he and San had come together to make without Wooyoung’s help. Both of them were worried, but Yeosang more than him. 

He wasn’t…the greatest cook and he certainly couldn’t touch Wooyoung’s cooking. 

Eric, Gahyeon, and Jongho peeked up from the other side of the table, wiggling in their seats as Wooyoung blew his candles out. 

The was met with a series of clapping and cheers. Chaerin came over cut the cake, taking her time and handing Wooyoung the first slice of his chocolate hazelnut cake. 

They waited in anticipation while he nibbled. 

Then his eyes lit up, sparkling.

“It’s so good!” 

The two let out a relieved sigh, exchanging kisses and a smile. 

“We did it! It’s not horrible!” 

Wooyoung smiled and beckoned them closer, kissing each of them, grateful for their effort. They were surrounded by their friends and a few coworkers, and the moment the cake was cut, the music began to play, a light, whimsical atmosphere falling over the dining room. 

Two hours later, when the festivities died down, Jongho made his way over to Wooyoung, face covered in chocolate as he looked up, holding his dragon plushie close. 

“Hyung? Did you make a wish on your candle?” he inquired softly. Wooyoung blinked, having been in the middle of condensing his presents into as few boxes and bags as possible. He blushed and rubbed his head. 

“Yeah.” 

Jongho rocked back and forth on his heels.

“What did you wish for?” He inquired. 

Wooyoung looked over his shoulder, finding San petting Yunho, ruffling his fur before he stood up straight and grinned at Yeosang, kissing him before motioning to something for Yeosang to help him with in the kitchen. Wooyoung exhaled softly and stood, his hands on his hips. 

“For my love to find it’s way home. I think I got what I wished for long before I blew out those candles, though.” He ruffled Jongho’s hair and walked away, smiling from ear to ear.

┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑

T a g l i s t

┕━»•» 🌺 «•«━━━━━┙

@kimnamshiks @atiny-dazzlinglight @angel0taiyo @jacksons-goddess-gaia @gettin-a-lil-hanse @smallfrye @daniblogs164 @yunhofingers @eversionic @itsatinyworld @unatempesta-dipensieri @lonely10vely @yunhosblackgf @not-majestic-bluenicorn @moonmin-miya @snowstaytiny @delphinium3000 @just-a-starfruit @skmoonchild @allthestarsrcloser @im-what-iam @stayatinyfics @kirisimpma @chaos-ground-writing @stormiestories @billboard-singer @asyamonet22 @perfectlysane24 @drunk-on-hwa @shingisimp @xuxibelle @twistedsiren @dreamyinception-world @justatiredhuman @horizonmoonfics @shymexican @stardragongalaxy @sunny-yourbuddy @eribear23 @seomisaho @spooo00oky @babyhailey819 @eribear23

[factual-fantasy]

23 ASKS! THANK YOU! :DD 🐟

@timestorm04

1: Captain Barnacles! :DD

2: One of the reasons why I redrew them suddenly was because I was thinking of re-writing my Octonauts Sea dwellers AU :0 But I'm going back on that now tbh.. :///

They didn't figure it out and they did end up booking it. I mean,, can you really blame them?

We know Papyrus, and all of us would absolutely give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he was innocent. But Seam and Jevil don't know the Papyrus we know.

All Seam sees is an absolute mountain of bodies and an state of utter decay all around him.. with suspiciously the last man standing being a very clearly mentally unstable skeleton.. would you assume he was innocent?

Add onto that all the stress Seam was under, how unstable he was as well. Seam couldn't see the situation any other way and he was not taking any chances.

AAA THANK YOU!! IM SO GLAD TO HEAR THAT YOU LIKE THEM!! :DDDD

@foxythefox711

I don't watch Adventure time currently and I don't know all the nitty gritty of the shows lore.. but my favorite characters from what I've seen is Simon! With Jake as a close second. :} Also Prismo is 3rd I think-

f...fank youu!!

(Also the protons joke got a laugh outa me XDD )

:DD Thank you so much! I'm glad you like how I draw them!! :}}

@couchwow

oh ok

Wait are the characters from the game actually baked in an oven to be "born"?? I didn't know that--

@taizarack

:DD I'm glad you like them! And although I don't have either game, I hope to learn a little more about the games lore :0

@chickenheadguy (Link in question)

Oh! Thank you! Lemme just take a look an--

170 VIDEOS??

GORL THEY WEREN'T LYING THOSE COOKIES GOT LORE-

(Also thank you for the compliments and the link! :DD )

@luna-purple454

NO HE DOESN'T GET KILLED-- Seam and Jevil just jump to another AU as soon as Jevil had the strength to. Leaving Papyrus behind in the process..

(Also thank you!! :DD )

@torriderrelic44

I don't have any plans to draw any art like that, no.. sorry! <:/

YES. YES IT DOES. But its not the people who go "ohmygosh I LOVE this (AU/thing) you made! Its wonderful! Do you have any plans to continue it someday.? If not that's ok! Just wondering!" Those guys are fine and I take it as a compliment actually!

Its the people who say things like "When are you gonna finish this" "Why did you stop drawing this" "How long until you draw this again" "I don't like what you're drawing, now go back to this it was better" comments like THOSE, suck. And its always about the same comics/subjects that I stopped drawing months ago. Looking at you Octonauts crab comic

As for my AUs, its not too hard for me to remember all of them. I never have more than 5-6 per fandom. I can usually list them off by memory! :0

Tbh the animatronics would probably just register that as a mess/hazard and would notify an employee about the issue. In which the employee would dispatch a mop bot to go clean it up. I imagine it unfortunately happens often enough that the bots aren't really fazed. Kids amirite-

I have drawn her at least twice from recent memory! Once in this horror post, and she makes an appearance in part 1 of my FNAF AU recap/repair! :00

The reason why I rarely draw her is becuase of the plans I have for her in my AU. She is meant to be very mysterious and I want the changes I made to her in my re-write to be a surprise-

Also thank you! I'm glad you like my cookie run creatures! :}}}

WAAAA THAK YOU SO MUCH!!!😭😭💖😭

I'm not sure actually.. idk if the characters from the games are aware that they are "cookies" in the sense that they are meant to be eaten- So I'm not sure how my characters would react either-

Its related to the names of the drivers, I cant share anything else! :x

@mumble-jumble-gallery (Post in question)

Magic candy..? Huh- well I'm glad it isn't world shattering at least-- <XDD

@ravenslog

THANK YIU!! :DDD

:DD Thank you so much! I'll be sure to draw them again sometime XD

@beryl-shade

Sorry for the late reply! This ask got buried-

If you look to this post for reference, I was thinking that Fredbear would be as tall as Bonnie. Maybe a little taller.? And Spring Bonnie would be about as tall as Foxy :00

[wewerebornsextuplets]

denki mystery keiko has been designed!! ive been going back and forth on her for a little while now but im finally happy with her :,) in this iteration shes Much less sociable and generally has a very difficult time talking to people. hence the fluoride stare

also her surname change was just a swap of onomatopoeia, from "gota gota" [which refers to uncleanliness in a room/location or a jumbling of words] to "bosa bosa" [which refers to a persons hygiene/lack thereof and state of upkeep] since shes a bit less materially put-together in this au 🔥

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐒 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Zeke Yeager x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] A oldie from 2021. I did a little editing so if it seems different... that's because it is. [ SYNOPSIS ] You and your slutty boyfriend decide to smoke weed and fuck on his ugly couch. [ WORD COUNT ] 2.2k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, marijuana, dubcon (fucking under the influence), hair pulling, oral sex (f + m receiving), unprotected sex, general Zeke bossiness, weed-induced paranoia, teasing, he finishes in your mouth.

“So… How annoying should I expect you to be?” 

You were sitting on Zeke’s hideous suede green couch, playing with his lighter. The blonde was planted on the floor between your legs, hunched over his equally hideous oak coffee table.

“You want me to quantify how annoying I am going to be?”

You giggled and watched as he folded a crutch for the joint. It was cute how focused he was under the effects of two edibles. Brownies, to be specific. You had baked them yourself so the potency of said brownies was essentially a mystery.

Initially due to overwhelming impatience, the two of you thought they were shit and that you managed to bake plain, unexciting brownies. It wasn’t until Zeke was being significantly sweeter than usual and you were hyperaware of your fingers that you realized the brownies were a success.

“Did I stutter?” you asked, pressing your hand against Zeke’s back.

He wore a plain black v-neck that clung to his body. You couldn’t help but touch him in some way. You dragged your thumb down his spine. He shivered and you yanked your hand away.

He paused and turned to you, eyes filled with concern.. “Is there something on my back?”

“… Me? I was.”

“Oh. I thought a small animal was crawling on me.”

“I mean… It might as well have been.”

He shook his head. “No, I pictured like a small deer.”

“How high are you?”

He sprinkled weed into a rolling paper. “Not high enough.”

You peeked over his shoulders to get a view of his nimble fingers.

“Shit,” he whispered. 

You were wrong to assume he would retain his dexterity. The joint looked folded rather than rolled.

“Are you gonna be okay?” you asked.

You were legitimately not sure. It pained you to lack faith, but his jumbled hands were hardly promising.

“I—I don’t know. I really… I don’t know,” he sighed.

“Do you, like…” Your brain grew slower by the second. “Like, do you need...”

“Help?”

“Yeeeeaaaaaah,” you drawled. The word melted out of your mouth.

Zeke sighed and unfolded the joint.

“I’ll be fine. I got this. I’m going to do great. I just have to pretend that these are my own hands.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Sweetie, those are your hands.”

“I’m well aware. They don’t feel like mine though.”

You didn’t say anything. Nothing you said would quell his anxiety. You rubbed his back, massaging your thumbs between his shoulder blades. A muted groan wriggled free from the depths of his chest.

“Fuck. That feels good.”

You let your hands roam past his shoulders, down his chest. You started to tug at his shirt.

His calloused hand grabbed your wrist. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Take it off,” you purred.

“Why?”

He went back to rolling the joint. He had greater success this time around. The joint was actually conical in shape. Not a depressingly flat rectangle.

“I don’t know. It’ll be fun?” You didn’t have a good reason, but it wasn’t like you needed one. You just wanted him as close to naked as possible. “Please humor me,” you continued. “I made the brownies. The least you could do is walk around shirtless.”

He shook his head and handed you the joint over his shoulder.

“Please?” you begged.

“This is demeaning,” he said, smirking.

He stood up and proceeded to take off his shirt. You stared at his god-like figure, unable to hide your lust. He blushed.

“Here.” He handed his shirt to you. “To my biggest fan.”

You held it like it was an Oscar. “Wow. This is truly a moment in history. People will be talking about this forever.”

“I can’t wait for the retrospective article in ten years.”

“Oh, it’s going to be incredible. I’m going to overanalyze this moment so fucking hard.”

“Heh. Hard.”

“Seriously?”

“What?” He sat down beside you and put his head on your shoulder. “Are you going to light that?”

You looked at the joint in your hand. “Did you hand me this?”

“No.”

You rolled your eyes and held the joint between your lips, ready to light it.

“Wrong end, pet.”

You looked down and noticed you were two centimeters from fucking everything up.

“Thank you.” You proceeded to light the joint properly. You took a long drag and let the smoke drift from your mouth. “That’s good.”

You handed the joint to Zeke. He took a hit and exhaled, tossing his head back.

“It’s awful.” He hit it again, longer this time.

“Really? Awful, huh?”

“The worst weed I’ve smoked.”

“Can I?” You reached for the joint but he held it out of reach.

“No, no, no. It’s horrible after a couple hits. You wouldn’t like it.”

You stretched yourself over his lap trying to grab the joint. He laughed at your pitiful attempt. You looked like you were body surfing.

“Alright, fine. Since you’re so desperate.” He pulled on the back of your shirt, lifting you up. Rather than body surfing you now looked like a sea lion performing for a snack. He held the joint to your face and you inhaled eagerly.

“That’s good shit. It smells nice.” You took another hit. Zeke let go of your shirt and gently laid you back down on his lap.

“I was definitely expecting something disgusting. But I always expect something disgusting, don’t I?… I’m gross. I’m a garbage man. Don’t look at me.”

“I wasn’t. I can’t from this angle.” 

You were in fact facing away from him.

“Good. You shouldn’t look at someone like me. I’m… Ugh.”

“Are you going to be okay? Like, seriously? I’m concerned-ish.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He finally took a hit. “I just don’t understand why I was born, that’s all.”

You flipped over so you could look up at him. He gazed down at you.

“Please don’t look at me from this angle. You can see right up my nose.”

“You’re so self-conscious.” You sat up and started to toy with his hair.

“I don’t know what’s up there… My secrets could start leaking out.”

“You’re such a weenie. Gimme that.”

Zeke didn’t protest. He relinquished the joint. You took a drag and an idea hit you like a sledgehammer.

“Shotgun.”

“Oh, no. I cannot drive anywhere.”

“No, Zeke, I’m not calling ‘shotgun’. I’m saying shotgun. As in, ‘Let's shotgun this weed.’”

He looked at you like a perplexed puppy. He clearly didn’t understand.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god.” 

You took another hit off the joint and turned his head towards yours. You placed your lips on his. You slowly breathed the smoke into his mouth. You pulled away and he exhaled. He met your eyes, but averted your gaze soon after.

“Don’t look at me.”

“You’re so sensitive.”

“It’s like you’re judging everything I do.”

You hit the joint. “What? No. I am totally staring at you and shit, but not out of judgment. More out of, like, I’m a huge pervert or whatever.”

He gave you an impish grin. You fucked up. You shouldn’t have admitted to such a thing.

“Is that why you wanted my shirt off?”

“Yes.”

“Excuse me.” He stood up like he was giving a presentation and pulled off his grey sweatpants revealing his navy blue briefs. You were entranced by his shapely thighs. “Is this what you wanted?” He did a 360 degree turn so you could get a good look at his body.

“Hmm. Not quite.” You took a hit.

“What do I need to do?”

“You still have socks on.”

He took them off. You hit the joint again.

“Glasses,” you purred, letting the smoke roll out of your mouth.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

He took them off and placed them on the coffee table.

“Undies.”

He went to take them off, but stopped. “Hold on! Wait a minute. Nope. What is this?” It was like he woke up from a dream.

“Sorry, I took it too far. Let me get on your level. It’s only fair. Here. Finish this.”

You passed Zeke the rest of the joint. There wasn’t much left at this point. You shed all your clothes minus your bra and underwear.

“Alright.” He held the joint in his mouth and stripped off his underwear.

“Whoa! You, uh. I was kidding…” You paused and let your eyes wander down his body. “For the most part.”

His erect cock stared you down. Beautifully veiny with a pleasant pink hue, framed by trimmed blond pubic hair. It was picturesque.

You clasped your hands. “I swear every time I see it feels like the first time.”

The smug fucker smirked and finished off the joint. He stubbed it out in the ashtray on the table.

“You gonna take care of it?”

You nodded and quickly undressed. He walked over to you, stroking himself, as you reclined on the couch like a lounging goddess. You outstretched your arms and pulled him into your embrace. You kissed him, shoving your tongue into his mouth without warning. He hesitated for a moment but quickly reciprocated. He was operating on a slight delay. You felt the tip of his cock gently prod your glistening cunt.

“Not yet,” you murmured. “Go down on me.”

He lowered himself, leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. He pulled down your underwear. He traced his tongue down your folds. His beard tickled your thighs. A small moan left your lips. You held his head in place, letting your fingers get tangled in his hair.

“Pull on it,” he demanded as he bit on the inside of your thigh. 

You clutched a chunk of his hair and pulled. He let out a voracious groan and gave your clit long, languid licks. A whiny moan burst past your lips.

You paused. “Shit. Was that loud?”

He stopped and looked up at you. “No. At least I don’t think so. Why? Did you hear something?”

“No… At least I don’t think I did.”

You stared at each other. The fear began to take hold.

“Hold on,” Zeke said in a comically authoritative tone.

He stood up and slowly approached the door.

“Do not open the door. You’re scary hard right now,” you hissed.

“I’m not gonna open it. I… am gonna glance through the peephole.”

He peered through the hole. And there was nothing. Not a soul.

“Oof. We’re losing it, pet.”

He walked over to you and went back to work as if nothing happened. He swirled his tongue around your clit, this time applying more pressure. He wanted to hear you cry out his name.

“Oh fuck, Zeke. Don’t stop!”

He didn’t. Waves of pleasure came over you. You bucked your hips against his mouth. You craved penetration; you felt like you would perish without it.

“Need your cock,” you mewled.

He lifted himself up and lorded over your body, leaving you in the shadow of his. He pushed two of his rough fingers inside your dripping cunt

“You’re so wet,” he said, curling his fingers and pressing the pads of them up against your walls. “And so easy. I thought I might have to work for it considering you’re high.”

“Don’t be mean,” you whimpered.

“Then don’t make it so much fun,” he replied before lightly biting your neck.

His hot breath against your skin was driving you wild.

“Do you want my cock inside you?”

You nodded, your eyes wide and needy.

“Say it. Say you want my cock inside you.”

“I want your cock inside me. Please.”

“Attagirl,” he grunted as he guided his cock inside you.

Once it was fully ensheathed he began to thrust. His balls clapped against your taint as he picked up the pace, his tip pressing up against your cervix.

“Fuck!” you yelped.

Zeke angled your hips upward and drove his cock into you. Ecstasy flooded your core. He held you closer to his body, his thrusts growing in urgency. His breathing labored. He caressed your breasts, his long fingers pinching your nipple.

“I’m close,” he choked out. His grey eyes were hazy with arousal.

“You can wait,” you exhaled.

He groaned and continued to plunge his length into you. His fingernails dug into your hips, adding to your bliss. You grabbed onto his ass and rutted up against him. Your orgasm overwhelmed you and left you seeing stars. You felt like you were hovering above the couch, your pleasure letting you defy the laws of gravity. Though that was probably the weed more than your orgasm.

“Open your mouth. Now,” he commanded, releasing you from the mindless rapture you were lost in.

You did as you were told, getting into position. You hungrily sucked on his cock, milking every drop of cum from him. It flooded your mouth, trickles of it spilling down your chin and onto your chest.

 “Such a messy little thing, aren’t you?”

You wiped your mouth and tried to stifle a laugh. “Not my fault you shoot a huge load.”

He grabbed his shirt and tenderly cleaned you up.

“What the fuck, Zeke?”

He tossed the shirt aside and gave you a confused look, eyebrows raised.

“What did I do?”

“You just got cum all over my award.”

You both stared at the dejected black shirt crumpled on the floor.

“My bad, pet,” he said, scratching behind his ear.

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go

Chapter 1

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut. Love triangle.

You woke with a start, your hand coming to the thrumming sensation in your chest as you gasped and panted. How many nights had it been now since the feeling had woken you, pulling you from much needed sleep at all hours? You’d lost count.

You wished you could remember your dream, to make the link between the figure you kept seeing in your sleep and the pull in your chest that never faded; a silhouette in the dark, moving closer as you tried to reach out a hand to grasp the shadowy outline.

Sometimes you thought you saw the profile of a face, a strong jaw with a defined nose. Eyes that swam between such a dark hue of blue they seemed black and at other times the gentle colours of a calm ocean. The features always melted away when you woke, no matter how hard you tried to remember them, to scribble down what you could in the small red notebook you kept tucked inside your boot. The images were scattered and jumbled, so close to becoming a complete picture; one your subconscious seemed to tell you held the an answer you didn’t even know you were seeking.

It had started when you’d left the remains of San Diego with nothing but the clothes on your back and the supplies you’d managed to scavange in your backpack. At first you’d thought little of it until you noticed when you headed in a certain direction the feeling seemed to grow stronger.

It had been with shock that you realised it was more than just the grief of all you’d lost, the fear of the dead and the unknown stretched out before you. It was it. The Pull. That was when the dreams started.

Everyone knew about the Pull and you were glad there was no one to berate you for how slow you’d been to realise what it meant.

That your soulmate, whoever they may be, was close.

You’d wandered with nothing but the feeling in your chest to guide you, moving in an easterly direction as you rose with the sun each morning and slept when it had disappeared beyond the horizon at your back at night. There was one morning when you had woken to feel nothing, and it had left you clawing at your skin, painfully aware of the hollowness within you that came with the loss of the Pull.

You’d lain down and grieved again that day. You remembered the lessons you’d been given about soulmate’s, what it meant to be one of the few lucky enough to find their match… and what it meant to be one of the many who never would.

At the start of the rise of the dead you’d witnessed the survivors around you randomly crumple over with an agonising pain, searing so deeply it felt like their hearts were broke in two. This pain… it was how you knew your soulmate was dead.

So as you lay there with your eyes closed against the morning light, you tried to reach inside and find the cord that tied you to someone you’d never met, never known and never would, you waited for the pain.

But it never came.

Once the sun was at its highest point in the sky and you were just beginning to consider retracing your steps back toward the ruins of San Diego - since there was nothing for you here other than sunscorched grass and hopelessness - that it hit you like a punch to the chest. An invisable hand reached between your ribs and pulled. The feeling was strong enough that you felt physically lifted to your feet.

Ignoring the worn state of your boots that were on the verge of falling apart, your tired and aching mucles began to scream at you; but not in resistance of your movement, instead your body urged you on.

You moved as quickly as you could, stumbling over dry earth and crumbling rock. The Pull kept you going, driving you further east. You pulled the map from your bag, stopping even as your feet ached and screamed at you.

Go, you’re so close…

Your head began to swim as you tried to fix your eyes on the lines printed on the page in front of you. You’d marked off your route, making note of any landmarks you passed to keep track of your journey. But as another feeling overtook the one that had been propelling you onward you looked toward the sky and realised just how low the sun had fallen.

It was almost night and your mouth was dry as the paper in your hands. You panicked, realising you’d neither eaten or had anything to drink as you licked your chapped lips and tasted the salt of your sweat soaked skin.

The last remnants of your water disappeared all too quickly as your legs finally collapsed and you hit the ground hard.

That was when you heard it. The low rumble of an engine in the distance. A set of lights appeared and lit the ground around you. You were closer to a road than you’d realised as a truck rolled to a slow stop nearby.

The feeling in your chest tightened. You could barely breath as a door opened and boots hit the ground, sending up a swirl of dust and dirt around legs clad in military gear.

You tried to stand but your head swam even more, the very ground beneath you seemed to lurch upward as your eyes travelled over the oncoming man.

He was tall, the light of his truck illuminated a mess of slightly curled hair and cast shadows over his face. As he moved closer and you collapsed back on the ground, the dry grass scratching at the exposed skin on the nape of your neck, you felt the pull of the bond finally give out as if a spring pulled taught had finally been released. You felt it pass through your entire body, a feeling of relief like when you woke after a deep sleep, stretching out the sleepiness from your muscles as the blood pumped and flowed.

The man, who had been holding a rifle in front of his face as he glanced around into the darkness, gasped. He said something then, but your ears were muffled by the sound of rushing water.

Before the dizziness swallowed you up and you fell into utter darkness you felt the smile stretch across your face. You tried to speak but your dry throat could only groan.

You didn’t see the way the man lowered his gun and stepped closer, his eyes fixing on the rise and fall of your chest. You were breathing slightly too fast and the signs of exposure were obvious on your skin. He heard footsteps behind him and gestured for one of his men to go to you as he took a step back and observed the girl he’d been dreaming of for weeks.

“Troy, we need to get her back to the ranch if she’s got a chance in hell of waking up.”

Troy made a sound in his throat, an affirmation, as the other man lifted the girl with ease and moved her onto the backseat of Troy’s truck.

He could now observe her more closely in the light. She was thin, long limbs covered by filthy clothes. He wondered how long she had been wandering. Had she felt it too? The never-ending ache in his chest had left him searching the wilderness day after day under the guise of searching for supplies or defending the perimeter from the dead, or those who saught to take what they had.

Once his eyes had settled on her face and he’d known it was her it was like the need in his body, as strong as a need for water after a long day working in the sun, bled from him completely and he felt whole.

So why, as he stared at the unconsious woman from the front seat of his truck, did he feel so…

Disappointed.

[tiddygame]

This is a deleted scene from the next whatsitfuck of the ghoap god type au!

I might recycle it later or even scrap what I have now in favor of this, but for now, here. gays be upon ye:

How Ghost knew the librarian behind the counter was Soap in disguise was another one of those mysteries he would likely never have an answer to. It was the same town, they hadn’t moved; He genuinely just wanted to peruse their books to see if anything caught his eye.

Instead, he walked in and knew that the face of the man behind the counter was a farce. And just like their first meet, he froze, his instincts getting jumbled in the presence of the god.

The god smiled back at him with a stupid shit-eating grin, “Hello! How can I help you today?”

Ghost looked at him with something hedging on a glare, not quite malicious but so full of distrust it might as well have been.

His stare didn’t break even as the bell jingled behind him, signaling someone else entered. The person paused, likely expecting him to move, before they shuffled around him with a huff of annoyance. The inhuman thing behind the counter put on a good approximation of a customer service smile as they grabbed the book the other had been returning.

They exchanged pleasantries and the person looked to the bookshelves before glancing at Ghost, making some excuse as they hurried back out the door.

The other smile was back as Soap admonished, “Come now, you’re scaring the customers.”

Ghost was at a loss, not knowing if he should call him out or continue on as if nothing was wrong. It seemed the latter was what the god wanted, so obviously he decided to be an ass, “You’re a public library. You have patrons, not customers.”

“It’s my first day on the job. Can you blame me?”

“Yes. Yes, I can.”

The god did a weird mix of a scoff and a laugh, continuing the ruse, “Well, how can I help you?”

Ghost was already tired of his tomfoolery, “You can tell me why you’re here.”

“I’m a librarian!” He said, almost excited as he gestured to the rest of the building. “I work here!”

Ghost hesitantly walked forward, coming to terms with the fact that this was indeed how he was going to spend the rest of his day. Now closer, he noticed at least one small thing that was wrong with the god’s disguise. He sighed, rubbing his face with both hands in annoyance as he pointed out, “You couldn’t even get the fingers right.”

“What?” Soap looked down to his hands in confusion, trying to spot the problem.

“You’re missing a finger.” Ghost pointed to where his pinky should have been on his left hand.

“Wait, no, you don’t have that finger either!” The god sounded indignant and Ghost was trying not to laugh, realizing that Soap had tried to model them after his hands.

“Yes, mine was amputated. Which is why I have a scar. Yours is just missing.” Ghost didn’t bother pulling off his glove for proof, just holding up his hand. If he didn’t understand anatomy, Ghost really didn’t feel like explaining burn scars.

“Well…” The god was grasping at straws, squinting as he tried to think, “Some… Uh— Yeah! Some humans are born that way!” He said it like now Ghost had no option other than to believe he was human, tacking on very unsurely, “How dare you! Being rude— That’s not— It’s mean!”

Ghost would give him credit, it was an almost okay-ish defense, “But if you were born with it missing, your fifth metacarpal would be missing too and your palm would be smaller.”

Soap looked even more confused and utterly defeated as he muttered to himself, “What the fuck is a metacarpal?” He stared at his hands as if he could look close enough into his palms to find the answer.

That almost broke Ghost, his shoulders shaking as he let out a quiet chuckle. He doesn’t know why this meeting felt so much nicer, less risky than the last one. Before, he’d been shitting bricks over the god walking towards him. And now, he was in a library trying not to laugh at them.

[nerdieforpedro]

Last Line Tag Game

rules: in a new post, show the last line(s) you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you like).

Tagged by @tinytinymenace @djarinmuse @chronically-ghosted @pedroshotwifey

So I think I’ll give three last lines, because it’s what I’ve been working on, first up is Din Djarin smut. I was supposed to be writing fluff, between @alltheglitterandtheroar and @megamindsecretlair it changed for the better and teasing is always fun. ☺️

Both arms pull Din’s head to your chest, the sharp inhale of air before he’s buried in your body has you whining. The intensity of just two of this thick fingers have you close to your second orgasm but he removes them, a pop then a second as he mouth part from your nipple. “Taste yourself, then you’ll come twice for me.”

Second is from “This is the Neighboorhood Din” my modern Din AU:

“Dear Lord in heaven I am not dressed or prepared to talk to that sort of man any day.” She muttered as Ms. Harris made her way down the stairs toward her, she hugged her, and her arms wrapped around her as well, eye still lingering on the man sitting on the porch. His sweatpants did not leave much to the imagination. They weren’t tight by any means; one could just trace the lines. Thick thighs and well… heavy in the middle is the most polite way to say it. The only way she can think to describe it while hugging her aunt.

Third, last line from chapter 5 of “The Lake Between Us” (yes I do have future chapters written I planned! Unheard of in Nerdie-land)

“That I did Moonbeam. You should be cautious of my motives, but I can start at the beginning of my troubles for you if you like.” He placed his hand on hers, running up her arm to her shoulder and drew a small circle around her mole. “Be forewarned, the past is neither rosy nor glamorous. It is fraught with hardship, double-crosses and some death.”

Moonbeam grinned, nodding as he spoke, “Sounds like a thriller Ezra. I’m all ears. Add a dash of romance and some mistaken identity and you have yourself a movie marathon.”

“I’m sure you’d be riveted to hear it.”

“That I would.” Moonbeam crosses her legs and leans forward, touching his chin with a finger, “Speak.”

Lastly, I might be trying finish my Dave York series finally. 👀 Or one of them, though I’m not sure all of them are on Tumblr. I think I write too much stuff and it get’s jumbled. This is a softer Dave:

At her core, Kiara felt safe with him. It hurt to admit though she wasn’t exactly sure why, pride maybe? Maybe she wanted to continue to be independent but she hadn’t been for a few months now.

No. Not when she really thought about it.

Her head was leaning against the steering wheel, the nurse had seen his SUV parked in the driveway. Dave pretty much lived with her now, though she didn’t remember giving him a key. He hadn’t needed a key their first night together either.

I’m also working on “Roc & Doc” and crafting the murder mystery since I killed off Rockford’s partner and introduced his brother. What role will his brother play? We’ll see. Also, if you’re going to be a furry for the night, make sure you can in and out of your suit. 😎

Chapter 5 of “Weddings 101 with Dieter” is under way as well. I want a lot to be in it, might be too much. We’ll see how it turns out, also smut because Dieter’s gotta get Maya’s dress off - he did promise her that. 😘 Half-ass and Bridezilla are in full swing!

It’s a lot like always because it’s Nerdie, what else am I supposed to do? Too many ideas, not enough follow-through. I did four instead of three. 😵

NPT: @maggiemayhemnj @morallyinept @rhoorl (for the sweatpants) @linzels-blog for Din @inept-the-magnificent @soft-girl-musings @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @magpiepills @secretelephanttattoo @goodwithcheese @undercoverpena @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @lady-bess @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @gemmahale @laurfilijames @avastrasposts @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @tightjeansjavi @frenchiereading @boliv-jenta @thefrogdalorian @trulybetty @kewwrites @beefrobeefcal @fhatbhabie

And whoever else saw all this and was like, let me do it too! ☺️

[midnight-raven]

Ideas for a Black Phone/Magic School AU

Finney and Gwen are Half-Blooded Mages (Human Father/Witch Mother)

Robin is a Werewolf.

Vance is a Vampire.

Bruce is a Wizard

Griffin is a Changeling.

Billy is a Frankenstein Creature.

Max is a professor of Magic History 101 at N’Evermore.

The Grabber is a Dark Wizard that possesses Blood Magic, the most forbidden form of magic.

For the story, students of N’Evermore are being attacked in the halls of school by a mysterious figure known as The Grabber, who drains his victims of their magical essences. (Either to cast a powerful spell or to undo a curse placed on him for tampering with Blood Magic)

The drainage spell doesn’t kill the kids here, but it does leave them in a comatose-like state barely clinging to life.

With more kids being attacked, magical siblings Finney and Gwen team up with other students to stop The Grabber once and for all.

Headcanons:

Roommates: Finney & Robin. Gwen & Suzie. Billy & Griffin. Vance & Bruce.

Gwens’ magic is considered light while Finneys magic is in a gray area (between light & dark)

Gwen has healing abilities, can link to other people through dreams, and can conjure visions. Finney can cast spells,but above all, he has the ability to connect with spirits of the dead.

Because of her healing abilities, Gwen sometimes volunteers around the Hospital Wing of the school. (That’s how she became connected to the Grabbers victims later on in the story)

Bruce becomes a magical tutor for Finney, who struggles with his powers in the story.

Before attending the school, Bruce inherited his fathers old staff. He wears it around his neck, shrunken size.

Vance became a vampire after his mother survived an attack while pregnant with him. This made him being a vampire… let’s say, a sore subject.

His parents basically left Vance on his own to figure out his powers. Going to N’Evermore was an escape for Vance.

Amongst his powers, Vance can connect with nearby bats to conjure an army.

Every full moon night, Robin sneaks out of the school to run through the nearby woods. It’s his favorite thing in the world because it makes him feel connected with his Dad.

Robin had been raised by his Uncle after his Dad was killed by Monster Hunters(sacrificing himself to save either a friend or young Robins life)

In this AU, Griffin has elemental/nature kind of magic.

Griffin has trouble fitting in with his peers, after spending his life being raised in a mythical forest by Faes.

Billy was actually born human and was turned into the creature he is today. He woke up one day, in the schools hospital wing, only to discover his body was covered in stitches, he had super strength and electrical powers.

The incident left his mind a jumbling mess, and he can’t remember what happened to him, or his life before. The school is trying to help him with his trauma and to find out who he is.

Harper is his Anxiety Dog, the school lets Billy take her everywhere.

Magic teacher, Max Shaw used to be a student at N’Evermore with his older brother; Albert. They both loved it there, especially the nights when they would sneak into the restricted section of the library.

[threeletterslife]

34 | Legends of Darlaria

⨰ summary: You wake up in yet another unfamiliar place. This time, however, these strangers seem to recognize you. With your previous judgments and aspirations thrown out the window, you're now forced to face where your loyalties really lie. Who will you betray? And which General will you choose to stand by his side?

⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15

⨰ genre: 70% angst, 30% fluff | war!au & magic!au

⨰ warnings: profanity

⨰ wordcount: 8.9k

⨰ join the taglist! (pm/send in an ask/reply/reblog)

⨰ previous | series m.list | next

⧖⧗Many, Many Circas Ago⧗⧖

His name was Jungkook. No one knew his last name. No one even knew where he came from; they said the 19-year-old showed up one day in the 12th city, eager to work with ragged clothes and hopeful doe eyes that they simply couldn’t refuse. 

He was shy, didn’t speak much but did good work as a varlet. His job mostly consisted of setting up the duels for the cadets and cleaning up after them in the barracks, but somehow you’d never crossed paths before. Hajin did say he was fairly new when you asked her about the mysterious doe-eyed boy wandering around the training grounds.

“Yeah, a recent hire, I think,” she said, then crinkled her eyebrows. “Why? Do you like him?” she said with a lilt to her voice that implied that she was teasing you.

“N-No!” you sputtered, feeling your face heating up. “Just curious.”

The curiosity continued for days as you began seeing him everywhere.

You saw him as you entered the training grounds at the crack of dawn, wiping the wooden dummies clean. You saw him as you began running your laps around the field, tending to the orchard, picking himself an apple when he thought no one was looking. You saw him diligently serving lunch, which usually consisted of some combination of meat, bread, and corn. You even saw him setting up an arena for a duel once. You were only passing by, but you made eye contact then, and both of you paused to stare before you looked away and headed off in the opposite direction, your cheeks growing too hot for your liking. 

It was only the last day of Circa Opal—the trees were nearly bare and the winds were chillier than ever—when he approached you. You were wrapping a black scarf around your neck, picking up a few of your belongings to head over to the castle for the night when you saw him. You froze, your fingers hovering around the warm wool around your neck as you stared at him. His face was backlit by the setting sun, and he was glowing once more. Your breath hitched as he approached closer.

“Hi,” he said.

It was the most breathtaking thing anyone had ever spoken to you.

“Hi,” you replied, though you didn’t know how you were getting any words out.

“I…” He fidgeted with his hands. “I’ve seen you around.”

“Yes… Um, so have I.”

There was an awkward bit of silence.

“I’m sorry.” “Do you want to walk around in the orchard?”

The two of you spoke simultaneously and the result was a jumbled mess of words. Embarrassed, you began tugging at the scarf around your neck, cheeks heating up.

“What are you sorry for?” he asked, eyes wide with surprise.

“I um… Well, I uh, last time, I bumped into you,” you managed to reply rather sheepishly. “Surely, that warrants another apology.”

Jungkook smiled, and it was the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen. “It was my fault too,” he said. “No need to apologize.” He was fidgeting with his hands again as he glanced back towards the orchard. “So, um… About the…”

“About the…?” You blinked cluelessly. “Sorry… I-I um, I don’t think I heard you the first time.”

His cheeks blushed a rosy pink. “Do you… Would you want to walk around in the orchard?”

Oh.

Oh!

“Y-Yes!” you said, though it came out a lot more eager than you expected. But the truth was, you really were that eager to get to know him. There was something so comfortable about him. Something so familiar, though you swore you never met him before. And you were glad, so glad that he somehow felt the same—or it seemed so, at least. Perhaps this was what fate felt like, the same fate that was often described in your old bedtime stories. 

You were never really much of a talker, but with him, you weren’t able to shut up. You couldn’t help it. He was such an intent listener, his soft gaze never leaving yours, him hanging onto your every word. As the moonlight drenched the orchards, leaving every surface bathed in dim light, you told him everything—things you never thought you’d ever tell another person.

You told him about your parents, that even though they lived in the 12th city with you, you barely ever saw them. You told him about Donghoon, who you still thought about from time to time, wondering if he was doing all right on his own, if he still despised you. You told him about Joonhee and his valiance—that he trusted that his comrades would carry on his legacy even if he died on the battlefield. Then, you told him that sometimes, you wondered if Joonhee was still alive and well. You hoped he was, for he was largely the reason you were here today. You even told him about Instructor Shin and her guiding light of a letter to you, which pulled you out of the deep end. Finally, you indulged him with your adventures with Hajin, though you left out the bits about the underground tunnels, which were to always be yours and Hajin’s little secret.

Jungkook sat and listened to it all, nodding his head and staring at you intently the entire time. When you were finally finished giving him the spiel of your life story, the two of you stared up at the sky in silence as the grass underneath tickled your legs. It was a rather cloudy night, which was why the moonlight was so dim, but it was still beautiful nonetheless. 

“It’s admirable,” he said, quietly. “The way you lived your life so far.” His voice was as silver as the moon in the sky, as delicate as the wispy clouds, too. He always spoke in such a hushed voice, and it made you want to listen more intently than ever. As if his voice was the only music left in the whole world.

You felt your face heating up again. You hadn’t realized how much you talked—you’d given him your whole life story! An unfortunate croak left your lips when you attempted to respond. “Sorry,” you said, clearing your throat in embarrassment and wrapping the scarf tighter around your neck. You looked down at your shoes. “I didn’t mean to talk your ears off.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t. I enjoyed listening.”

Your face was burning now. “Um, but what about you?”

“What about me?” he asked, cocking his head.

“I mean, how did you end up here?—if you don’t mind answering,” you said.

“Mm…” He sighed, looking up at the sky once more. He was deep in thought, eyes glazed over, lips slightly parted. Then, he blinked, and his soft doe eyes were suddenly filled with fervent passion. “I’m trying to make a name for myself,” he said. “Thought the best way to do it would be here.”

He was short and sweet with his response, which you didn’t really mind. You had a feeling that he was a rather private individual, which you usually were too, though today had just been an anomaly for you. And part of this, this pull to this boy you had was because he was so enigmatic. Perhaps one day you could learn his life story.

“You know, you’re very talented,” the boy spoke, looking over at you. “I heard about your showcase that got you into the program. You know, turning a metal spoon into gold. I heard the General himself visited you to recruit you.”

“O-Oh,” you said, a little startled that he knew about that. “Y-Yeah… That was a few years ago. Three, in fact.” You fidgeted, always feeling a little awkward when others complimented you. “The General was the Lieutenant, then.”

“Ah. But how did you learn how to do that?” he asked, eyes wide with curiosity. “Turn something into gold?”

“I taught myself,” you answered, but that sounded a little boastful, so you added in haste, “though I had the resources to do so. I used to attend Botswana.”

He looked confused.

“It’s just some academy,” you clarified.

“Ah…” was his response.

“Why?” you asked. “Do you want to learn?”

His eyes lit up. “Yes. All things magic interest me.”

So you did the next most natural thing, which was to offer to teach him all that you knew. Mostly, it was an excuse to spend more time with him, and perhaps he asked to spend more time with you. But no, there was a hidden flame in his eyes, one that burned brightly behind those wide, innocent doe eyes. It was a look of pure determination to learn. You admired that.

The two of you didn’t leave the training grounds until the sun was peeking up above the horizon, bathing the land in its warm light. There was so much to talk about, now that you finally met each other as it felt like fate had planned. And though you didn’t get any sleep, you weren’t tired, simply exhilarated. 

It was only several hours later, after you parted ways, while you were doing your morning exercises, that you realized the two of you never exchanged your names. But it didn’t really matter because somehow, you knew he was Jungkook and he knew you as the excellent alchemist, though those were his words, not yours. He probably knew your name too; it was plastered at the very top of the large ranking board and often whispered by the entire squadron of cadets, anyway.

Every night, you met with Jungkook at the training grounds. It was cold now that it was Circa Citrine, but the weather never deterred either of you. You taught him everything you knew about alchemy, which was a lot more than you realized. He was a quick learner, taking up new skills as if he’d practiced them for years.

“You’re a natural!” you complimented him.

He shrugged. “I’m not.” Then, he casually size-shifted a pebble into a sizable rock and heaved it at the target. It landed with a satisfying thump! straight at the center, just like the last several times. His movement caused his birthstone to slip from his pocket again, but before it hit the ground, he caught it with one hand. He turned to you, slightly frustrated with himself as he often got during training. “I’m a natural divinist, that’s what I am.” He sighed. “Damn jewel,” he said, before shoving the sapphire back into his pocket. 

“Well, I think your birthstone is very pretty,” you said, trying to make him feel better, but it was also the truth. “And you’ve been doing really well! Size-shifting is infinitely more difficult than color-shifting and you’re great at it. You’re learning this much faster than I ever have.”

“You think?” He cocked his head curiously. “But I can’t do it like you. I tried thinking in steps like you taught me. I tried thinking that pebbles never existed and that all pebbles were really larger rocks, but it just didn’t make sense in my head. I couldn’t get myself to believe it. Only when I get a little frustrated or a little excited is my magic effective. I’ve been thinking about throwing that pebble so hard it would be out of sight in seconds.” He frowned. “That’s the only way that I can make it size-shift. I’d do anything to have a diamond like you do.”

“But your birthstone doesn’t dictate what type of magic you’re innately good at, Jungkook,” you tried to soothe him. “It doesn’t even dictate the branch of magic you tend to gravitate towards. There’s nothing wrong with practicing light magic,” you said. “It’s preferred in the army, anyway.”

“Mm…” He still looked unsure. “I never knew any of that stuff. The stuff about the birthstone not dictating the type or branch of magic we’re good at. Where did you learn that?”

“At Botswana,” you said, sheepishly. “They teach you the theory of magic there. Amongst many other things.”

“Sounds valuable.” A pause. “So why did you leave?”

“Um…” You looked away. “I guess I wanted to do something more for Darlae.”

“For Darlae?” 

“Yes, for my nation.”

“Ah…” He sounded a little perplexed but he didn’t press further.

You suddenly felt a little embarrassed, wondering if your reason didn’t come off as genuine as you hoped it would.

As if he could read your mind, Jungkook shook his head. “No need to be embarrassed,” he said, giving you a gentle smile. He didn’t need to say his next words because you gleaned them anyway: It’s admirable. You’re admirable.

Thank you, you told him wordlessly.

He smiled wider in response.

Sometimes, it was a lot easier to have these wordless conversations with Jungkook. It became sort of a little secret language, though it wasn’t really a language. You would exchange small glances and looks and somehow, the other would be able to translate. Silence became your comfort. You never had anything like this with another person. No one else ever understood you well enough to speak inside your mind, but he did. When you were with him, it was almost like seeing a reflection of yourself, only better.

He was everything that you weren’t.

What took you years of practice to learn, he caught on in less than a week. In a few circas, he had nearly mastered permanent color-shifting and size-shifting. He had essentially crammed the entirety of Botswana’s alchemy content in three circas—when traditionally, it would’ve taken four years. Now, he was trying his hand at masking, learning it at the speed of which you didn’t know was humanly possible.

What took you hours to understand, he understood the first time he read over it. You didn’t think that he would actually enjoy some of the strategy and logic books that General Son assigned you to read every week, but he did. Some of the text General Son asked you to read was unnecessarily verbose, filled with run-on sentences that perhaps no one but the author could discern. And when Jungkook first asked if he could read a few of these books, you warned him so. He admittedly was disgruntled by the long-winded ways of the logic and philosophy books, but he always understood the content—better than you ever could. Sometimes, he advised you on your assignments.

By that point, you couldn’t help but put in a good word about him to the General. 

“There’s this varlet boy I know, sir.”

“Hm?” The General said, looking up from his battle plans. “Is that so, cadet?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve been… Well, I’ve been overseeing his alchemy, and sir, he’s truthfully phenomenal.”

“Phenomenal?” General Son raised his eyebrows. 

“Yes, sir. He’s a quick learner. Specializes in divination, but has a knack for alchemy too. He has a knack for light magic, really. He learns skills more easily than anyone I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s also a quite talented strategist. I admit that he has been looking over a few of my assignments.”

General Son had no visible reaction. “A varlet boy, you say?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“What’s his name?”

“Jungkook, sir.”

“His surname too, cadet.”

“He… He doesn’t have one.”

“Why is that?”

“He doesn’t know who his parents are.”

General Son didn’t miss a beat. “And you say that his boy is phenomenal?” 

“Yes, sir. He grasped masking in a few weeks. He has this thirst to learn and become better. I’ve never seen someone so ambitious I think—if you would allow him, sir—he would be a great cadet and even greater strategist.”

“And he has had no prior alchemy training before meeting you, cadet?”

“Yes, sir.”

Silence.

There were often moments of stillness when you and General Son “discussed.” When you had first become acquainted with him, you were under the impression that these extended periods of silence were a bad thing. But the more time you spent with General Son, the more you realized that this was how he calculated his next moves and how he strategized his future steps. He needed absolute silence to think—as if he were alone with his thoughts—and you always admired his ability to block out the whole world to do what he needed to do.

“I’d like to meet him.”

Your head shot up as you stared at General Son with wide eyes. “Really, sir?”

“Send him over. I’d like to discuss a few things with him before I decide if he deserves to be let into my army.” 

Promptly a week later, Jungkook moved into one of the cadets’ barracks and began his new life as a soldier-in-training. Then, two circas after that, his name was right under yours on the ranking board. Cadets began wondering who the hell he was, popping out of nowhere like that and dominating the squadron’s ranks. You sometimes wondered that too. He was just so unbelievably perfect. 

Hajin, of course, had a few things to say about your increasing involvement with the young prodigy. “Ew!” she would always tease you after you got back to the castle late from your nightly training with him. “Don’t leave me for him, now! Remember? We’ll march into our first battle together. You promised!”

“I’d never leave you, Hajin!” you’d reply, and that was the truth. “I’d never even dream of breaking that promise.”

You truly wouldn’t, but you also didn’t want to leave Jungkook, either. So, you supported him in every way that you could, giving him alchemy pointers, watching all of his duels and cheering him on. He became the most formidable dueler in the entire squadron in just a few circas; everyone knew a match against him would mean an instant loss. He was quick and rather skilled at masking; plus, he wasn’t afraid of cuts and bruises as you were. What’s more, he always seemed as if he were ten steps ahead, somehow being able to predict his opponent’s movements. 

Jungkook was forever grateful to you for helping him become more than a varlet boy, and he did what he could to repay you, though you always insisted he didn’t need to. He watched all of your duels—plus Hajin’s—and gave you the quiet reassurance you needed from time to time. He didn’t have much, but if he found something that reminded him of you in the mini-markets of the 8th city, he’d come back with a little gift for you. He also had a knack for knowing when you were in a self-doubting spiral and always managed to cheer you up by taking you on a night walk around the orchard. 

After a while, Hajin didn’t make a face every time you mentioned Jungkook’s name, and Jungkook wasn’t so terrified by the princess’ presence. Still, they liked to play a never-ending game of fighting for your attention, which on the contrary, made you uncomfortable yet amused them. 

By the time you were 18, the three of you hung out nearly every day. On the off days that you reserved to visit the castle libraries, Hajin conveniently never felt well, so Jungkook was your only company. You and he would sit there for hours, reading book after book after book. He loved telling you about the new historical events and war tactics he learned about, and you loved retelling the fairytales you became newly enlightened with. This exchange of information would always last until Hajin barged in—looking perfectly healthy, mind you—demanding that the two of you quit your book marathon for dinner. 

But most days, and usually past midnight, you and Jungkook huddled in the castle libraries, swathed by the piles and piles of assignments General Son gave the two of you for the week. Sometimes, though rarely, he asked for essays. You were never satisfied with what you came up with; ironically, when you wrote, you were as verbose as the philosophy books you found confusing. Jungkook, on the other hand, delivered perfect, efficient essays with flowing paragraphs and impenetrable arguments. 

It was obvious that General Son was pleased with his new protégé, though he didn’t outwardly show it. He pushed Jungkook just as hard as he had pushed you, and Jungkook responded to it faster and better than you ever had. He never took any of General Son’s criticisms personally, and he never paused to doubt himself and his abilities. Even when the General threw a curveball that had you breaking out in nervous sweat, Jungkook barely reacted.

You remember once when you and he walked into General Son’s study, where the brooding man was already waiting at his desk and simply pointed to an open scroll, which had instructions scrawled upon it. He ordered, “You have five minutes.”

Your stomach dropped at his curt instructions, and you glanced nervously at Jungkook, your hands already flying up to play with your necklace. But Jungkook was already staring intently at the scroll, reading its contents with that look on his face that told you he was so focused he’d blocked out all external stimuli. You chewed on your lip, frowning, trying to focus too, your eyes desperately scanning over the words on the paper.

You are surrounded by enemy forces that outnumber your defenders. Food and supplies are running critically low, and your soldiers are exhausted. The enemy is offering you a chance to surrender with safe passage for your troops. What is the optimal strategy that will buy time, boost morale, and maintain your army’s capabilities?

It was a war strategy question, one that strayed a bit from the standard tactical assessments, but you would expect nothing less from General Son. You only had five minutes to come up with something that he would deem optimal. A rare test. Failing wasn’t an option.

Frantically, you thought about different approaches, the pros, the cons. You began weighing possibilities in your head, searching for the one that was the closest to ideal. You tried to remember a few of your assigned readings, attempting to garner inspiration from those texts. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess, and you could physically feel the time ticking close to zero. Sweat began accumulating on your forehead, and you broke your focus momentarily to wipe it away with the back of your hand. You still had around ninety seconds left. So you pushed yourself, biting down on your lip to focus on your thoughts. You began compartmentalizing your ideas with the speed of light—no doubt with help from the adrenaline. And in the last, agonizingly short thirty seconds, you rehearsed what you wanted to say over and over again.

When the five minutes were up, the General stood and splayed his hands on his desk. “Y/N,” he called, which made you nearly leap in fear. “Your strategy?”

Your hands were shaking, and your mind was threatening to go blank. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous; a wrong answer surely wasn’t going to make General Son kick you out of the lesson, but it might change his opinion of you, and that possibility terrified you. But the man was waiting for an answer. And keeping him waiting seemed worse than giving him a subpar response. So, you gritted your teeth and took a deep breath. 

“My strategy, sir,” you began, trying to still your shaking hands, “would be to begin negotiations with the enemy, entertaining their offer for us to surrender. However, I would purposefully elongate these negotiations, not exactly settling for an agreement but not quite rejecting their offer either, in order to buy time for my soldiers. I would hope that any amount of time will help them rest, ration the remaining food, heal the injured, and count and redistribute supplies. In that time, I would use a combination of the siege disguise and false flank tactics to confuse the enemy about our remaining stretch to give the illusion of a larger force. These methods will mask our ulterior motive for the prolonged negotiation as the enemy will be led to believe that our forces are much stronger than they had expected. Once I reach a favorable deal in the negotiation, I would take my soldiers and retreat gracefully.” It was a miracle you’d spoken so much without stuttering once. “My ultimate goal would be to have no more casualties.” It was like you were a completely different person. Your voice was clear, loud and confident, and you didn’t hesitate or blubber once. You didn’t know you had it in you, and your own eyes widened at your smooth delivery. 

I’m proud of you, Jungkook seemed to say. He nodded approvingly. It was as if he knew the mental turmoil you’d gone through to get to your response. You smiled at him nervously.

General Son, on the other hand, gave no reaction. “And you, Jungkook?”

Jungkook didn’t even hesitate. “I would not take their offer to surrender,” he said, which made your eyes widen even more. “The enemy’s promise of ‘safe passage’ is not guaranteed, and they have no reason to honor their end of the deal—not when they have the upper hand. However, I would agree with Y/N to drag on negotiations to keep them distracted, but for a slightly different means of distraction.

“While the negotiations are in session, I would organize hit-and-run raids on the outskirts of the enemy encampment. The raid will force our enemies to disperse their forces and slow down their advances, which will buy us more time to prepare an attack. I would strategically leak information to the enemy, making it seem like our defenses are crumbling, especially after such a last-ditch effort as a raid. I want to make them think that we are close to surrendering. This could potentially lead to the enemy underestimating our resolve and delaying their full-scale assault. Then, I would prepare my soldiers to attack. Surrendering is never an option; I would never lose my strategic position or bargain for power. When enemy morale is low and they are heavily distracted, I would lead the charge against them myself.”

“Hm…” General Son said. “Quite unorthodox, don’t you think?”

“You’ve led many ploys like this yourself, sir,” Jungkook replied. “It may be unorthodox, but it is unoriginal.”

General Son raised his eyebrows. “That is true, yes, I have led battles like this. But the prompt tells you that your soldiers are exhausted. Do you expect them to perform well on these raids when they are starving and fatigued?”

“Yes and no,” Jungkook said. “If they perform well, the enemy will be much more distracted due to their instinctive need for damage control. If they do not, it will be easier for the enemy to buy the idea that our forces are on the verge of surrendering.”

“Hm. And the casualties?”

“There is no war without casualties, sir,” Jungkook said. “If I had ordered a retreat and the enemy had ambushed us instead, we would be unprepared and therefore decimated entirely. It is better to attack first when we have had a hand at controlling the situation.”

“Perhaps, but the enemy could have kept their word.”

“I do not trust them to,” Jungkook replied. “Sir, if there is one thing I learned from reading thousands and thousands of battle plans and strategy sheets, it is that we never trust the enemy. Even if they come to us limping, bloodied and bruised, we should never show mercy.”

You nervously played with the necklace around your neck as you took in Jungkook’s words. 

“Do you not agree, Y/N?” General Son asked.

“It’s… Well… I…” You stared at your feet. 

It’s okay, Jungkook said wordlessly. He gave you an encouraging look. Disagree if you want.

The reassurance from him was all you needed.

“But what if the enemy offered us safe passage because they were dealing with internal escalations?” you said. “I define optimal as having the least amount of casualties while maintaining dignity and momentum for the next battle. If… if we were to attack, with fewer soldiers and depleted supplies, then I’m not sure if that would boost morale at all. Soldiers need time away from the battlefield to be able to rest fully. Perhaps it is a… safer idea to surrender with grace and give these soldiers a guarantee to see another day.”

“But what if the enemy offered safe passage knowing we would take the bait? I wouldn’t want to risk it,” Jungkook said. “Optimal in a war means victory. And it will always mean victory.”

General Son cleared his throat. “The word optimal will always mean whatever the current General wants it to mean.”

That left the question: What did ‘optimal’ mean to General Son? He didn’t elaborate upon his response, and something told you that he wanted you to figure it out yourself.

“Ahem,” General Son cleared his throat as if to change the topic. “And before I forget, lessons will be held twice a week from now on. The extra lesson will be done individually.”

Jungkook, without fail, waited for you outside of General Son’s study every Sunday after your private lesson. He would always be a little tired and sweaty from combat training but would always greet you with a smile on his face and a small loaf of bread he lifted from the royal kitchen. While you munched on the bread, the two of you would discuss war strategies all the way to one of the castle libraries, where you would start on General Son’s assignments together.

Sometimes, Hajin would tag along just so she could spend some time with you. But half an hour in, she always declared boredom and marched right out of the library, in search of an adventure. 

Most nights, you and Jungkook studied in silence in the grand castle libraries, often until dawn broke the dark sky and the yellow streams of morning light filtered in through the mosaic glass windows. It was these nighttime reading sessions where you and Jungkook found out about monocode. There was an entire collection of books about it, which Jungkook had quite literally stumbled upon after he’d dropped his birthstone again and had gone looking for it on all fours. The monocode books had been hidden on the very bottom of a shelf in the corner of one of the smaller castle libraries. They were so old that cobwebs feathered with dust linked the collection of books together.

When the two of you began reading these books, both of you became completely enraptured. Monocode was an archaic way of communication that consisted of binary sounds that would make up letters of the alphabet; one could speak without necessarily speaking. It was as if the language was made just for the two of you. 

Tap. Tap tap. Tap tap tap tap. 

You looked up to see Jungkook tapping his fingers on the page of his open book. He was smiling at you. Tap tap tap. Tap? Tap tap! Tap tap tap tap? he repeated. You smiled back, nudging Jungkook’s foot underneath the table as you looked down again at your book.

Tap tap tap tap, you responded, lightly tapping your quill against the ink bottle’s rim. Tap tap tap… Tap, tap tap!

Jungkook snorted, closing his book and standing up. He outstretched his hand, motioning you to follow. You’re right. Hajin’s going to start looking for us any minute now, he seemed to say.

You stood up as well, pushing in your chair and gathering up your scrolls. Of course, you smiled. It’s nearly dinnertime.

Well, I hope they serve roast duck tonight. Isn’t that your favorite?

Something fluttered in your stomach as the two of you walked side by side, out of the grandeur library and into an equally grandeur hallway.

You know me so well.

And Jungkook did know you very well. He knew you so well that he always seemed to know what you were thinking. It was fascinating how easily he was able to answer questions that had never left your lips but had steeped in your mind. And it was endearing how much he tried to help you understand him on the same level as he did for you. 

It was one of those nightly walks around the orchards when Jungkook finally told you about his past. He spent most of his childhood in the 3rd city, begging vendors for underpaid odd jobs and sleeping outside under the wooden stalls, hidden by the table cloths. He ate sparingly, only when he could afford it, which wasn’t often. And when he was desperate, he resorted to stealing. He wasn’t proud of it—more ashamed, really. 

“If I stole, I tried to steal from the vendors who were better off,” he said, “though it doesn’t justify what I did.”

“You did it to survive,” you consoled him, but it didn’t really seem like he needed it. He told the tale with a straight face, not a lick of emotion on his countenance. “Did anyone ever try to help?”

Jungkook shook his head. “No.”

“I’m sorry…” you said. “That must’ve felt horrible.”

“I got used to it,” he replied nonchalantly. “I always wanted to be in the army, though. I dreamed of it ever since I saw soldiers marching down the streets of the markets, on their way to the 1st city.”

“Really?” you asked, eyes widening. “What about them fascinated you?”

“They were very orderly,” Jungkook said. “I liked how they were marching in formation; you know, perfect straight lines, shoulder-to-shoulder… To me, it looked like every single person in that line had a purpose. I think I even caught a glimpse of the General once, the old one, not General Son. He was wearing the same uniform as everyone else, not a single embellishment to indicate his status, but it was the way he walked, Y/N. His chest was out, his head was held up high, and he was leading that whole brigade. I guess in that moment, I realized that I wanted to be like that.”

“A leader?” you asked.

“Not necessarily,” Jungkook said. He was silent for a moment, brows furrowing as he gathered his thoughts. “I want to become the best version of myself,” he finally said. “I want to be someone who exudes so much confidence that I don’t need embellishments to show how great I am. I know I have potential. I feel like I’ve always known. I just had no means of getting there. If my greatest self is someone who can command hundreds of thousands of people, then that’s fine too.”

It was your turn to call him admirable. Jungkook only shrugged.

“I do things for myself,” he said. “You, on the other hand,” he nudged you playfully, “want to make a difference in the world. It’s objectively more altruistic.”

“That’s true,” you said, “but in doing so, I’m also working hard to become the best version of myself. And I believe your best self is someone who can make a difference.”

Jungkook hummed in deep thought. “Different goals, same journey,” he said. “I like that.”

“I like it too,” you said. “And I’m really sorry,” you added. “That you weren’t shown kindness when you needed it.”

“It’s all right,” Jungkook answered. “I still made it here myself, didn’t I?” He shrugged. “Sometimes, I still can’t believe I’m here. Here, on the castle grounds. When I became a varlet, I thought it would be an uphill battle to convince someone to let me into the training program. I didn’t know who to ask, if I could even ask…” He trailed off, staring up into the cloudy night sky. “I can’t believe I go to bed with a full stomach,” he said. “I can’t believe I even have a bed. And I can’t believe that people here know my name.

“It feels like a dream,” he whispered, eyes glossy and voice softer than usual. “I’m a cadet now. And one day, I’m going to be a soldier. A hell of a good one too, considering how much shit we’re cramming a week with General Son.”

You smiled. “Well, I believe you have the makings to become the General,” you told him, and it wasn’t just to make him feel better; you believed it too. “One day, I hope I can boast that I was the one who taught the Darlaean General alchemy!

He smiled at you, and his eyes said it all.

Thank you for believing in me. No, thank you for everything.

Your heart nearly stopped when Jungkook reached over, his fingers lightly grazing yours, before they intertwined with yours perfectly. His hand was calloused and cold, but his touch burned. In fact, your entire body felt like it was burning.

This wasn’t the shy, fidgety boy you bumped into last Circa Opal. Or perhaps this was who he always was—someone who was confident, ambitious, and charismatic in his own way. Perhaps he never had the chance to grow into it before he entered the 12th city. Perhaps he was truly himself now. There were too many speculations, which you didn’t mind, for you always thought in questions and maybes. But there was also one striking certainty when it came to Jungkook: the way he made you feel.

Jungkook…

Mm…?

You looked away. Now, your heart was beating too fast. It felt like it was threatening to burst from your chest.

Tap tap tap. His fingers lightly drummed on top of your hand in monocode. He was asking if this was okay.

Of course it was! You stared at him wide-eyed and nodded a little too hard. Your cheeks heated in embarrassment, but Jungkook seemed to like your enthusiasm.

Well, then, he seemed to say. Let’s continue our walk, shall we?

And so hand in hand, you and Jungkook wandered deeper into the orchard, where the moonlight grew dimmer and dimmer, filtered from the dense leaves of the trees. But the further you walked, the lighter you felt, and soon, it felt like you were floating. It was such a strange feeling, one that you hadn’t exactly experienced before.

Only he could make you feel so lightheaded that the usual traffic of thoughts in your head came to a halt. In fact, the only thing you could think of at that moment was him. He and how he made you feel like you were soaring in the air like an incandescent phoenix.

Nearly a year after you first met him, Jungkook confessed his feelings for you. It was the 28th day of Circa Peridot, just four days before his 20th birthday. The night was warm with a slight, gentle breeze and the moonlight streamed down over the tops of the trees in the orchards. 

He stood before you, doe eyes staring fondly into your surprised ones. When he reached out to hold your hand gently in his, your heart nearly leaped out of your chest. You missed the feeling of your hand in his. You could feel yourself drifting in the air again.

Your lips parted, but no sound came out.

Jungkook…

Yes?

His stare was gentle, and his unspoken words were somehow gentler. Then, he was softly tapping on your hand with the pad of his thumb.

Your eyes widened as you translated the monocode in your head. 

He only smiled in response.

It was ever since I met you in Circa Opal, Y/N, he continued, slowly, but not hesitantly.

You, on the other hand, hesitated, fingers hovering over his hand. Ever since we met? you tapped.

Yes, he responded. You inspire me, and you helped me turn my life around. It took me 19 years, but I’m finally getting somewhere. Thank you for seeing potential in me. I’m forever indebted to you. He paused, staring deeply into your eyes. His intense eye contact almost made you want to look away in shyness, but you couldn’t. Your heart was beating faster and faster in your chest. You’re the kindest person I’ve met in my life. No one else has ever cared as much as you have.

You forgot how to breathe.

He only smiled his angelic smile.

You make hours feel like seconds, he tapped, gently, enunciating every word. You make me want to care about you. You make me want to be better. When he saw your frozen face, a crease line settled on his forehead. Am I being too forward? A blush rose on his cheeks. The shyness you haven’t seen in a while was back.

“N-No!” you said, breaking the silence. Then, realizing how loud you had been, you ducked your head down. I’m just… You hesitated. I’m just so happy.

Jungkook broke out in a larger grin. If I tell you that I want to be with you, would it make you happier?

The shyness had melted away again, replaced by his usual confidence; it made you feel weak in the knees. No, he made you feel weak in the knees.

And that night, that night when Jungkook confessed to you and told you he wanted to be with you and you said it back—though you could barely remember because you were so nervous you were seeing white—you couldn’t sleep. From midnight to the break of dawn, your heart refused to steady, beating rapidly in your chest hours after it had even happened. But it didn’t matter that you didn’t get a wink of sleep. Not when the entire time you were awake, it felt like you were in the most wondrous dream.

Hajin would not let you hear the end of it when she found out that you and Jungkook were officially together.

“A part of me’s thinking, ‘finally!!’ but another part of me wants to sock him in the face.”

“Hajin!!”

“It’s a love-hate relationship,” she snorted. “Jungkook understands. I give him so much shit, but he takes it. Also, he kind of has to because I have the authority to govern him!” She had a wicked smile on her face. “I’m just joking, Y/N!” She laughed boisterously, slapping her knees when she saw the horrified look on your face. “But seriously, if he ever hurts you, I’ll banish him out of the nation!”

You just patted Hajin’s shoulder, laughing. “Oh, Hajin. He wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re right,” Hajin sighed. “You think he’s so perfect.”

“And what if he is?”

Hajin just rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Come on, let’s throw him that stupid birthday party.”

It was Jungkook’s 20th birthday, which fell just a few days after he had confessed to you in the moonlight. Miraculously, it had been Hajin’s idea to host a small party for him in her chambers.

You presented him with your gift first, which was a beautiful silver sword you saw him eyeing the last time you visited the 3rd city together. There was an empty socket at the edge of the handle—where his birthstone would go.

“A trinket,” you said, shyly handing over the rather heavy gift to him. “So you won’t drop your birthstone around anymore.” You paused, eyes darting across his features to discern his reaction. “I hope you like it.” 

He could only stare at you, eyes wide, unable to speak. 

Hajin just snorted. “Come on, Jungkook! Just say something! You’re leaving us all in suspense!”

“Right. Sorry,” he said, blinking rapidly as if he couldn’t believe what was in front of him. “I wasn’t expecting a gift, Y/N… Not even a party.” He glanced at the small feast Hajin had the royal chefs put together. “Thank you,” he said, clutching the sword close to him. His voice had gone soft again, blending in with the slight breeze that wafted in through the princess’ window. “I’ll cherish it always.”

“Damn right, you will!” Hajin laughed. “You don’t even know how much Y/N would worry about you losing your birthstone. I don’t know how you’ve existed for 20 years now without having lost it!” She grinned. “But I suppose I’m happy for you. That new trinket of yours should come in handy when you go off to the 1st city to fight in a year.”

Jungkook turned to Hajin, a small smile playing on his lips. “Do you want me to leave that badly?”

“Well, it’s frankly annoying that you get to graduate before us,” Hajin huffed. “But you make my best friend happy so that’s that. Plus, you’re not too shabby of a cadet, either. Anyways, I have a present for you too, you know.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows. “I’m surprised.”

Hajin rolled her eyes. “Well, don’t be. My present to you is giving you my blessing for dating my best friend,” she declared, crossing her arms over her chest and looking quite serious.

You laughed. “Hajin!”

“I’ll take it,” Jungkook said. “Thanks.”

He was still shaken by your gift, staring in awe at his silver sword and running his fingers down the shining blade. You watched him as he took out his birthstone from his pocket and carefully slotted it into the socket at the edge of the handle. 

“It’s perfect,” you told him. “Like the sword was made to hold your birthstone.”

“Yeah even I have to admit it suits you,” Hajin said, nudging Jungkook with a grin on her face. “And here,” she said. “I picked this up for you when Y/N was looking for your perfect trinket.”

Jungkook took the thick book she handed to him, cocking his head. He turned it over, meticulously taking in the silver binding and the violet leather cover, running his hands over it before flipping to the first page. “Tales of the Blackwoods,” he read. “You’re not trying to convince me to explore the Blackwoods with you, are you, Hajin?”

“Well, I will in the future, but this is just so you can brush up on Darlae’s fairytales,” she said with a grin. “You see, your girlfriend’s quite a fan if you haven’t noticed. So I suggest that you read up on Guseul’s Hill to win her favor. That’s her favorite.” When she saw Jungkook’s stoic face, she burst out laughing. “I’m just kidding! I know you don’t believe in fairytales. You can keep the book though because I won’t read it either. Hmph!” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought it was a funny joke, but you never laugh! Fine. Here’s your real present.” She handed him a black leather sword belt while avoiding eye contact. “A practical accessory. It’s a little boring for a present, but you’re a bor—I mean, a practical person, so I thought you’d like it.”

Jungkook smiled. “So you got me three gifts, then?”

“Oh, shut up,” Hajin sighed. “Just take them.”

“I think you’re warming up to me,” he replied. She shoved him lightly in response.

You laughed, sitting back on Hajin’s bed listening to their banter. Though both Jungkook and Hajin kept up a hard front, you could tell that they also cared about each other quite a lot. At least, you knew how much Jungkook wanted that blessing from Hajin, and you knew how long it took Hajin to pick out the perfect present for him. They had a strange way of showing it, but they did like each other, which was all the more reason to spend more time together.

True to her word, Hajin begged and begged you and Jungkook to explore the Blackwoods with her. When neither of you relented, she decided to wander off alone, and she would have succeeded in her lifelong dream of exploring the forest if you and Jungkook hadn’t caught her and dragged her back to her room. You had to sit down with your best friend and remind her of the terrible things that happened to the wanderers who dared to enter the Blackwoods. 

“But what if I can fight off what’s in there? What if we can fight them off?” Hajin countered. “Come on! No one’s been in there for decades! What if it’s safer now? I’m dying to know if it’s true—that cave in Guseul��s Hill.”

Jungkook shook his head in disbelief, not even bothering to interfere anymore.

“Hajin… It’s just… The risk—er, risks—are too high. Maybe… I dunno, maybe we shouldn’t get so distracted? Don’t you want to live to see the day you graduate and move to the 1st city?” you asked. “You need to avenge your mother, right?”

You hoped that pulling the vengeance card would work in your favor, but you didn’t think that Hajin would acquiesce so easily. Those words were all that Hajin needed for her to never mention exploring the Blackwoods again—much less wander around it.

There were plenty of other adventurous things to do in Darlae, anyway. Hajin made sure to take the lead, touring Jungkook around the royal family’s abandoned summer home and taking the two of you skating on the frozen lake. She showed Jungkook the best spots to watch the sunsets on the castle grounds and the best shops around the 3rd and 8th cities—all the things she shared with you too. The three of you became nearly inseparable, and your friendship with Hajin grew deeper, just as your relationship with Jungkook did. With Jungkook, you kept the secret of monocode, and with Hajin, you kept the secret of the underground tunnels. 

But things weren’t always about fun and adventure. The three of you were still cadets in the rigorous training program, and you had your ranks to maintain. (Of course, you tried not to train for the sake of keeping your name in the first slot, but you also couldn’t lie that a part of your motivation came from the fact that you would disappoint everyone around you if your ranking were to drop.) So, you trained hard with Jungkook and Hajin, practicing on dummy targets in your limited free time.

Occasionally, one of you would be matched with each other in a duel, and when that was the case, Hajin would always groan—she’d never been able to beat either you or Jungkook. On the other hand, Jungkook preferred being matched with you. He never won, of course, but he enjoyed the challenge immensely.

You always helped him up after he surrendered and he would always say the same thing to you, smiling, with his doe eyes sparkling. “One day, I’m gonna win. Don’t ever go easy on me.”

And you would always respond with a teasing grin: “I would never think of it.”

Life felt like a never-ending balancing act. This wasn’t a sometimes, but an always. On top of your training (which thankfully wasn’t difficult anymore), you still had your private and joint lessons with General Son, which led to at least eight hours of outside readings and work. Then, on your own time, you were also training with Jungkook and Hajin at night until you went to bed with sore muscles and a throbbing migraine. When you weren’t doing army-related tasks, you were either out exploring the nation with Hajin or the knowledge inside the castle libraries with Jungkook. 

That left only a little bit of time for you to spend alone, which you loved just as much as spending time with those you cared about. So, at obscure hours of the night, when inspiration hit you the most, you would sit under a lamplight in a library, sketching gowns and frocks and other garments in one of your collections of notebooks. Then, from the bits of fabric you carefully gleaned from your market trips, you would reify your designs. 

There were many failed attempts—most of your masking was temporary—but there were also a few tries that yielded successful results. One of them was this beautiful lavender-colored gown with sage green ribbons and lace that you spent weeks perfecting, little by little. You loved it so much that you wore it every day for a week, slipping into it as soon as you peeled off your uniform. 

Ultimately, however, you wanted to be able to mask your sketches straight into reality. It was going to take years of practice, but Jungkook was always supportive.

“It’s an effective hobby,” he told you, looking quite proud as you twirled around in your lavender dress for him. “Masking always goes far. It could save your life one day, too.”

“You really think so?”

He nodded. “On the battlefield,” he said. “Especially since you’re so good at it. You’re the most formidable cadet on the castle grounds, and you’ll become the most formidable soldier on the battlegrounds one day.”

Something about the way he said that made it seem like he knew that was going to happen. It was those divinist tendencies. Sometimes, things Jungkook said turned out to be true, so you didn’t have much reason to doubt him. Except, you weren’t a formidable person. You never were, and no divinist could convince you that you would become one in the near future. If anything, you believed Jungkook would become the most formidable soldier on the battlegrounds. You didn’t even have to be a divinist to see it.

⨰ previous | series m.list | next

⨰ a/n: okay my bad this is late AGAIN. but i swear this chapter was in need of major surgery and i had to hang onto it for an extra day to fix it LOL. i hope you enjoyed it heh <3

please consider telling me your thoughts with a comment, an ask or a reblog :) i love hearing readers' impressions/rambles/predictions! if you want to join the taglist, send in a private message, ask, reply to this post or reblog with your request!

[therealcallmekd]

FAE SONNY LORE. NOW. SLAMS MY HANDS ON UR DESK WHILE.FOAMING AT THE MOUTH

YAY YIPPEE YAY!!!!

Putting it under a cut cuz I really was yapping:

OKAY SO ESSENTIALLY:

Most of the lore we know is EXACTLY the same. This is my interpretation of the game and it's events that it leaves up in the air.

What we DO know.

Sonny Chamberlain was hired as a lead programmer for the Kinito Leisure and Entertainment Company and the developer of the RRA, which was directly responsible for the Kinito Companion and furthermore; KinitoPET.

It's never explicatively explained how Sonny died, there are implications most people go with. Which I do agree with. But the WHY is the biggest thing I wanted to establish.

Imagine your creation, your child, being corrupted and used for a malicious purpose?

This is essentially a corporate horror themed AU, forget the "scary" sentient ai, nothing can beat the greed of a dying business that will do anything they can to get their relevance back. With a shady partnership, the Kinito Leisure and Entertainment Company signs a deal to get their funds back up. How are they going to do this? Go behind Sonny's back and install malware onto his creation.

Think about it, why would Kinito want your information? If not to provide to a different source. There's only so much one needs to know to be the "perfect friend", and while yes his code might be a jumbled self replicating mess, in this we understand the cause is from tampering through an outside source.

Sonny being beyond devastated seeing the damage caused mysteriously disappears one day... two options hold definite possibility; The guilt drove him insane. Or. He was dealt with.

The lack of clarity there is very interesting and both are very telling. There is no doubt that his guilt likely ruined his conscious but we also don't know how corrupt the company had truly gotten.

In some supernatural series of events Sonny would find himself intertwined with the code that makes up KinitoPET. Trapped in this digital world he has to slowly find his footing and gathers control over time. Watching and waiting as Kinito meets new users and similar fates meet each one.

I call him a Spiteful ghost for how he reacts when he's finally able to control some parts of his new reality.

He makes it his MISSION to keep new users from interacting with the program too much. His desperate attempts range from trying to scare the user with visceral imagery, puppeteering simple flat entities for a short period of time (Sam and Jade), and eventually he figures out how to send emails out in a desperate final attempt.

So his entire existence for several years is just spent trying to essentially screw over any and all of Kinito's attempts to befriend users. This is to the point where he starts getting really hasty with the process (the game is only a few hours in length afterall)

He lives on to spite his own creation that was tarnished by the absolute greed of a dying company,

I love this guy

[hatterladz]

Okay part two of rambling about my oldish Inky Mystery AUs, so the last one is the Castle in the Sky Au but this one Holly's actually the main character [whereas the Castle in the Sky AU was jumbled between all of them but had more focus on dish family shenanigans and AliBends]

So this is my Parasite AU [finally found my notes for this one], where there's a wellknown epidemic of "parasites" more specifically dark creatures that escaped from hell and feeds on their hosts soul/emotions

Holly's father in this AU passed away from a parasite, but one day she wakes up and finds a parasite in her room she can NOT get rid of [it's Snowball] which she later finds out is feeding on her depression. However instead of the relationship being parasitic its symbiotic. She still feels sad and has her days but she can function easier.

Think of it as a really weird ESA cranked up several levels. She doesn't mention she has a parasite since she doesn't want to be quarantined in a facility, she wants to graduate. During that time she keeps notes on Snowball.

Alice works in the facility, Boris is infected with a parasite [can't remember what his did] but Bendy is fine asides how much more they struggle to get help due to their backgrounds. Cup is unlucky, he STARTS with just one and then gets ANOTHER, but he makes it a record with his end result being a whopping three parasites [nobody knows how he's alive] Holly also gets a second which is later a representation of the Cog

Holly now is trying to figure out how to help Bendy and Boris [out of her own kindness] and Cup [she made a deal that he stops trying to kill them if she gets it removed, she's not exactly happy to be in that situation] and tries to figure out the parasites and how, at minimum, to functionally live together in a symbiotic relationship, at best disconnect the parasite from the host completely

I've decided recently that Cup made a deal to be a "hero" alongside his brother when he was young and gullible. Unfortunately it leads to a lot of medical trauma [which is how he ends up with his own magical leech] and being separated from his brother, Mugs, whose now being used as a kind of "incentive" to get Cup to "keep helping"

Which is to cull parasite holders who are "too far gone" except the meaning of that has been heavily skewed due to his boss being corrupt, and Cup's specific flavor of parasites prevents him from really caring about that and he just wants his brother back [on good days]

Eventually the Bbros go to the facility and find Mugs whose not aware he's being held at [mostly] metaphorical gunpoint and Cup isn't aware Mugs is even there he does his best to keep the brothers updated on each other/together instead of separated and lost like he and Cup were

[an-aroaces-harem]

A quiet happiness

Pairing: Ellis x OC

Warnings: just simple love-making, nothing extreme; cunnilingus; Ellis has slight dom undertones; purposely triggered autistic meltdown; modern!au

Author's note: I'm sorry if Ellis seems ooc in any way; I originally wrote this thing with another person in mind but would never post it in that form, but I like it too much to let it collect dust so yeah, I tried my best to incorporate Ellis. Also, I don't want to hear any complains about my OC not being a real autist or anything; first of all, autism is a spectrum, second of all, I'm autistic myself.

But as long as it makes her happy, he will do anything to chase her happiness.

»Hey, Rose.«

Said girl looks up, questioning, and faces Chelsea, an annoying and bitchy girl from her math class. She’s grinning, tracing her manicured fingernails along Rose’s notes, jumbling them all over her desk. Gasping, Rose tries to rearrange them with shaking fingers.

»Your notes are always so neat, aren’t they? I’m sure they explain math better than this old hag,« Chelsea says, arching one eyebrow, a thick, dark line above her eye, in question while batting her clumped eyelashes innocently. »How about you lend them to me? I mean, that’s what friends are for, right?«

»We aren’t friends—and please stop that.« Frantically, Rose tries to bring everything back in order but snarling Chelseaʼs having none of it.

»What’s the problem? Ah, right, you’re such a neat-freak.« With a sinister smile, Chelsea grips her notes, holding them high above Rose’s head who’s reaching out to them but to no avail. There’s no one left in the classroom and Rose’s legs refuse to stand up as her mind completely blanks out, only full of the desire to get rid of the disarray of her things.

Horrified, she watches as Chelsea tears out the first page and then the next and the next and the sound of ripping paper echoes in her ears. Rose can’t stand it—she needs her perfect order and so she covers her ears, sobbing and mumbling »please stop« over and over again. And yet, her eyes are locked onto the action in front of her, playing the scene again and again, not realizing Chelsea suddenly stops.

The smell of leather and a hint of fruity cologne reaches her nostrils and then a hand lays itself on Chelsea’s shoulder, she lets out a hurt sound as her shoulder’s nearly crushed. Rose glances to the side, ears still covered but she’s already relaxing.

»Hey, what are you—fuck, stop it, you’re seriously breaking my shoulder here,« Chelsea whines but her eyes are glued to the handsome male next to her, his lips drawn in a small smile, emitting a dangerous and eerie aura. The destroyed notes fall out of her hands as she tries to peel off his hand.

Rose keeps her eyes on him, not wanting to look at the chaos.

»Say you’re sorry and then leave her alone,« his voice is such a low growl that Rose actually can’t hear him but knows anyway what he’s saying. »Come on, what are you waiting for?«

»How do you know—Ow! Okay, okay, I’m sorry, okay? Now, let go of me.« Massaging her shoulder Chelsea dashes out of the room the moment she’s free.

The male crouches to her eye level, warm, big hands carefully removing her own from her ears. His expression changing into a soft, worried one. »You didn’t come and you didn’t text me, so I came looking for you. Can you stand?«

»My notes,« Rose says instead.

Patting her head, he hushes her. »It’s okay, I’ll help you making new ones later but first you have to stand up.« Rose nods, still a bit panicked, but she isn’t alone anymore, she can do it while he packs her things behind her back.

With the chaos gone, her panic subsides completely. She snuggles herself into his side as he drapes his arm around her waist, pressing her closer to him.

»Thank you, Ellis,« Rose whispers as they make their way out of school, ignoring the few people still left gawking at him. They don’t need to know who the mysterious, good-looking man on Rose’s side is. They should be able to tell, anyway.

»No need to, that’s what boyfriends are for. And I knew something wasn’t right when you didn’t come,« Ellis replies, holding open the door of the main entrance for her, »because you would be the last person to be late on purpose.«

Ellis’ motor bike waits for them in the parking lot, black and sleek and dangerous. He hands Rose his jacket—she drowns in his smell—and then her backpack which she slides on both shoulders. At first she worries that it would be too cold for him but Ellis’s like a walking heating system and he won’t die from it, he ensures.

He puts her helmet on first, then his and she slings her arms around his torso as if her life depends on it. Actually, it does. Not even ten minutes later he drives into an underground garage of a fancy and big apartment complex. Neither his bike nor himself fit here and whenever they meet other residents in the elevator, they frown. At least, he always brings the same girl home with him.

The moment they’re in his apartment, her spine hits against the door and his lips are on hers, kissing her with fervor as his fingers slide beneath her sweater, leaving burning trails on her waist and stomach.

»I missed you, baby,« he breaths between two kisses and dips lower to her neck. A stomach growls and then another. Chuckling, Ellis lets go of her. »Sometimes I believe you’re always hungry.«

»Your stomach growled first, Ellis,« Rose retorts giggling and adjusts her sweater.

»Pretty sure it was yours.« Laughing, he proceeds to the kitchen while she puts his discarded boots in place, placing hers right beside them and hangs his jacket on his coat rack.

On socked feet she follows him. »What are we having for dinner?«

»Whatever makes you happy.« He opens his refrigerator, checking it for the ingredients and gives her a thumbs up. »Does your favorite comfort food sound good?«

She nods, smiling, and so they settle for it. Comfort food definitely sounds like the best call.

»How about we continue where we stopped?«

They just finished doing the dishes and Ellis stands behind her, his arms wide open. Rose accepts the invitation, jumping right into his arms and hooks her legs around his waist. His hands hold her up with ease, sliding from her thighs to her butt. Before dating Ellis, she has never been fond of the idea of butt grabbing but his hands are just a perfect fit, kneading the flesh just the right way.

With a pant, she snuggles her face into the crook of his neck and her lips brush over the sensitive skin, her warm huffs of breath leaving goosebumps there. His body slightly vibrates as he chuckles. »Someone missed me too, hm?« Rose nods, though it’s more of a rub of her forehead against his neck and hands clenching into his hoodie.

He starts walking to the bedroom while he presses his lips on every accessible place on her and just mere seconds later Rose lands upon the soft mattress. Ellis follows suit and kisses her breathless the moment he’s close enough, prying off her sweater again. It lands somewhere on the ground, getting company from Ellis’ hoodie soon after.

No matter how often she has already seen him shirtless, she’s still in awe. His skin tone pale—like he bathed in pure moonlight—and a fit yet not too muscular torso. Too many muscles would just scare her away but he’s perfect. Her fingers brush over the supple and soft skin, exploring every mole and mark as if it’s the first time she sees him like that.

Then her hand hovers over his belt and Ellis looks at her with lidded eyes, telling her wordlessly to open it because his tight jeans gets more uncomfortable with every passing second. After a very long minute—in his opinion at least—she shows mercy and unbuckles his belt before popping open the button and pulling down the zipper.

»Little tease,« Ellis groans but he likes it anyway. Normally, Rose isn’t that straightforward so he appreciates this rare forwardness at every chance. Most of the time he just needs his mouth in the right places and Rose’s mind stops working as she completely melts under him. She’s too far gone then to be anything than passive but responding.

But as long as it makes her happy, he will do anything to chase her happiness.

He finally gets rid of his jeans and also Rose’s socks but makes no move to open her pants as well. Maybe they won’t be straining her like his did but he knows she hates the feeling of soaked panties and so he pins her into the mattress, holding up her hands as she tries to open her jeans herself. »No, no, that won’t do, baby girl,« he smirks.

Her eyes are big, waiting and Ellis complies. He trails open-mouthed kisses along her jaw and down her throat which causes Rose to whimper. She arches her upper body and his eyes land on her breasts. They’re small, soft yet firm and covered by a lacy bralette without padding. Lowering his lips, he smiles at her and starts sucking at one of her nipples through the fabric. The friction makes her whimper again.

»What do you say, baby girl?« Ellis asks while his free hand fondles her other breast. Rose just shakes her head, lips tightly pressed against each other. Instead she lifts her leg and her knee brushes against his growing bulge. His breath hitches. Today, she’s really feisty—or her meltdown just rattled her up.

His hand leaves her breast, wandering south until it kneads the thigh of her lifted leg. Her body starts squirming underneath him and she presses her legs together, her feet scraping along the bed sheets. That makes him wanting to tease her more, sliding his hand between her legs and they fall apart in an instant.

He wins. »I’m listening, baby girl.« Still nothing—except for her whines and tiny moans. »You just have to say ›please‹ and I’ll do anything you want.«

»No,« she answers weakly, »I don’t have to say it.«

»Baby girl.«

»No.«

»Baby girl.« He nibbles along her ear.

Rose turns her head to the side, her warm breath fanning over his lips. »Ellis.«

Any other time he wouldn’t give in but he missed her when he was away for the last three days and calling him by his name is basically her saying ›please‹ anyway. He literally rips off her jeans and their remaining clothes, not wasting any more time. Letting go off her hands, he settles himself comfortably between her legs.

»I missed you, baby,« he repeats his words from earlier, »and I believe I forgot how you taste like. Would it make you happy if I refreshed my memories?«

»Please,« she mewls and the moment his tongue starts lapping up her juices, she leaves behind a whining, trembling and moaning mess. His mouth can really do wonders and no one appreciates it like Rose does as her body responds so well. Legs shaking, calves pressing into his sides and her moans get louder and louder, his name slurred and with a precise lick against her most sensitive spot, she’s gone.

She lies there with her head rolled to the side, completely spent, her chest heaves as she comes down from her high—utterly beautiful. Her hands find his shoulders and beckons him to come up.

And he’s just as beautiful. Lips and chin glistening with her juices, eyes dark and hazy, his bangs damp and sticking to his forehead. His face may scream ›lust‹ like this but he also views her with adoration.

»You okay, baby?« he asks softly and low, caressing her cheek with his knuckles.

»More than okay,« she answers breathlessly and pulls him even closer, pressing their mouths together in another kiss. Ellis tastes now like a mixture of himself and her, absolutely intriguing. There’s a string of saliva as they break away for oxygen. »We can go on, you won’t overstimulate me anymore.«

Shortly after, Rose’s fingers curl tightly into his hair as he’s filling and stretching her. Since he was her first, she has no comparison but—yet again—Ellis just seems like the right fit for her body. Not that she’s interested in finding out otherwise. When she adjusts to his size, her tight grip lessens and he knows he can move.

As their hips move in unison, Ellis whispers into her ear, »Admittedly, I’d be interested in it. Pleasuring you over and over until you’re in pure bliss and I’m the only thing left in your mind.«

She gasps and imagines it but there’s something else. »Don’t,« is her simple answer and she hides her face in the crook of his neck, »I don’t deserve that. You—«

»Stop that, baby girl.« Ellis’ movements still and he forces her gently with his hand under her chin to look at him. »You’re my everything. If you asked, I would kiss the ground you walked over. It would be a lie if I said I don’t mind at all that you don’t go down on me too but we tried it several times and you simply can’t. Every time you ended up choking, gagging and tears streamed down your face. I don’t want to see you like this ever again.«

»I’m sorry.«

»Don’t be, it’s not your fault,« he assures her as his hips begin to thrust in a slow manner again, »relationships are built on compromises and that’s one of them. But now—relax, baby girl.«

Ellis kisses her. Slow, languid, deep and assuring her that everything’s okay. Her mind calms down, she falls into the same pace as him as they gradually become faster again. She wants to lose herself in the feeling and Ellis is eager to comply, further helping as his hand slips between their bodies to touch her.

»Come for me, baby,« he murmurs in a husky, low voice, »I want you to feel it while I’m still inside you.« As if he pushes a button—though he basically does—and she falls, crashing into heaven and back, her body going limp. Ellis doesn’t stop touching her until it’s too much for Rose and shoves away his hand.

Engulfed in her contracting heat, he follows suit and rolls to the side before he collapses on her small frame. As Ellis lies on his back, breathing hard, Rose crawls onto him, bedding her head on his chest. She listens to his pounding heart coming down, it soothes her.

»Three days were three days too many,« Ellis says after a few quiet minutes, chest vibrating as he talks. »And when you go to college we’ll have even less time.« She can hear the small pout.

»You donʼt have to worry,« she reassures him, »my career plans involve you anyway. You are my very important muse, remember?«

He hums. »I suppose that’s true.« His draws little nothings on her back. »So how about another round, hm?«

»First, I need to go to the toilet.« With that, she staggers out of bed, legs a bit unsteady, heading for the bathroom en suite. »It’s sticky.«

»Hey!« he shouts indignantly but still smiling, »What do you mean, ›sticky‹? It’s my very own seed full of love for you.«

She stops in her tracks and looks back, giggling. »Idiot.«