#just an abhorant name for trying to tag it the right way

[corruptedcaps]

The Bitch Box

Gina tiptoed into her stepmom’s walk in closet, heart racing. Her stepmom, Veronica, was everything Gina wasn’t. Gorgeous, confident, and ruthlessly cruel. Veronica had made Gina’s life miserable since she’d moved in, always quick with a sharp comment about her appearance or a snide remark about her lack of friends.

Gina wasn’t supposed to be in here, but she was looking for something, anything to convince her dad to leave the bitch.

As she pushed aside the rows of designer clothes, something caught her eye. It was a black box with a black tag hanging from it that read ‘Regina’. She knew instantly it was from Veronica, only she used her full name. A name she abhorred hearing, even reading it made her shiver in disgust.

Gina worried that Veronica knew that she would be snooping around and left the box as some sort of message but then again her birthday was coming up soon. Veronica had never been the gift giving type but Gina had to know what was in the box. Taking it barely out of the closet it, she lay it on her parents big bed.

As she slowly lifted the lid she prepared herself for the worst. Maybe it would be some diet pills, maybe it would be a coupon for a salon, an insult masked as a gift. However of all the things she expected she was surprised to see a pair of tight black latex pants.

Intrigued, Gina reached out, her fingers just grazing the smooth material when, without warning, the pants sprang to life.

They coiled around her hand, slithering up her arm like a snake. Gina gasped, trying to pull away, but the pants had a mind of their own. They slithered down her torso and wrapped around her legs.

Gina’s heart pounded as the latex pants tightened around her legs, clinging with an unnatural force. Panic surged through her, and she immediately tried to pull them off, her hands frantically grasping at the slick material. But the pants seemed to have a life of their own, resisting her every effort, fusing with her jeans in a way that was both terrifying and mesmerizing.

“No! This isn’t right!” She gasped, yanking harder, but the pants only gripped tighter, inching up her thighs and forcing her hips to curve seductively. Her initial panic began to mingle with something else, an unexpected thrill that sent shivers down her spine. She could feel them reshaping her, every twist and pull of the latex transforming her body into something new, something… sexy.

Each squeeze sent a wave of heat through her body, starting in her legs but quickly spread upwards. It was a tingling sensation that left her skin humming with energy.

Her stomach was next to change as all fat evaporated, giving her a perfectly flat and toned tummy. She had seen girls in her school spend months in the gym to achieve such a look.

She didn’t have time to dwell on it as the day from her stomach moved upwards and merge with her modest boobs. She watched in disbelief as her tits began to swell, becoming fuller, more pronounced. The pants were seemingly moulding her body into something more undeniably alluring, almost predatory.

As the changes continued, Gina’s resistance faltered. “No… I need to stop this…” She whispered, but even as the words left her lips, a part of her wasn’t so sure anymore. The fear was still there, but it was quickly being overtaken by a strange sense of exhilaration.

Her hair, once wild and frizzy, straightened into silky waves that cascaded down her back. She reached up to touch it, marveling at the luxuriously sleek texture. “This… feels... mmmm so fucking amazing.” She murmured, her voice becoming smoother, more seductive. Her hands had moved from trying to rip the pants off to instead roaming them over her new body.

She could see her reflection in the mirror now, the girl staring back at her was almost unrecognizable. She looked wickedly sexy, with a hint of danger in her eyes.

Gina’s fingers brushed against her lips as they plumped up. The sharp, polished nails that had replaced her bitten ones made her smile with a newfound confidence. Thick makeup covered her face and dark eyeliner gave her a look that could kill. The initial urge to fight was waning, replaced by a growing sense of entitlement.

The more the pants changed her, the more she found herself enjoying it. The power, the beauty, the seductive allure, it all felt so right, so intoxicating. The fear and resistance that had gripped her at the start dissolved into a deep, self-assured arrogance.

Gina’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “Why was I fighting this? I feel so fucking hot and amazing.” She purred, her voice filled with satisfaction. She struck a pose, admiring the way the pants clung to her now-perfect form. The transformation was complete, and she had never felt more alive.

Gina couldn’t stop staring at her reflection. She turned slowly, letting her hands glide over her newly transformed body. “Look at me, I’m… perfect.” She gloated, her voice laced with awe. She ran a hand down her chest, feeling the firm curves that the latex had sculpted.

She struck a pose, arching her back slightly, one hand on her hip. “All those girls at school, with their cheap makeup and tacky clothes… they’re nothing compared to me. How pathetic they must seem now, trying so hard and failing so miserably.” She purred, her lips curling into a satisfied smile.

Her eyes gleamed with a dangerous confidence as she stepped closer to the mirror, her gaze sharp and cold. “They’re beneath me, all of them. From now on, I’ll be the one they look up to. The one they envy. The one they fear.” She said, her voice dripping with disdain.

Looking over to the box she spied there was still more in it. With a grin she took out a leather jacket and a pair of expensive Louboutins. Knowing what the pants did, she eagerly held out her arms and the jacket leapt up and snaked up them. She slipped seamlessly into the leather material as it complimented the pants perfectly.

She sat on the bed and held her feet out. The shoes jumped out and snugly fit onto her feet. Standing back up she gazed at her completed form with a self satisfaction she had never experience. It was intoxicating.

Gina smirked, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she struck another pose, reveling in her newfound power. “I’m not just better, I’m superior. And they’ll all learn that soon enough.” She declared, her voice tinged with arrogance.

As Gina admired her transformed reflection, the door creaked open, and Veronica stepped into the room, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. She took in the sight of Gina, now exuding a wicked allure, and a sly smile spread across her lips.

“Well, look who’s found her birthday present a bit early.” Veronica said, her tone dripping with mock surprise.

Gina turned to face her, a mixture of confusion and curiosity flashing in her now-intense gaze. “Birthday present? You did this?”

Veronica chuckled, sauntering closer. “Of course, darling. I was getting tired of having such a pathetic stepdaughter, someone who couldn’t even stand up for herself, let alone command the attention she deserves. But I knew the bitch box could help.”

“The bitch box?” Gina echoed, a mix of intrigue and wariness in her voice. Veronica stepped over to the bed and picked up the now empty box sitting there and put the lid on.

Veronica’s eyes sparkled with a dark satisfaction. “It fulfills the owner’s darkest desires and gives them what they need to become a true bitch. Inside your box were those stunning latex pants, the leather jacket that’s now molding to your curves, and the heels that give you that perfect strut. Everything you needed to unlock your true potential.” She explained, her voice low and enticing.

Gina glanced down at her outfit, admiring how her new body fit it perfectly. She flexed her fingers, admiring the sharpness of her nails, and felt a rush of power and confidence surge through her.

“So, you planned all of this?” Gina asked, her voice tinged with both awe and a newfound edge.

Veronica nodded, her smile widening. “I knew you had it in you. I knew Regina was inside you waiting to be unleashed. You just needed a little push. Now look at you. You’re everything I wanted in a daughter. Strong, beautiful, and above all, utterly ruthless.”

Gina’s lips curled into a smirk. The resistance she had felt earlier was completely gone, replaced by a thrilling sense of destiny. Hearing her full name no longer filled her with disgust. It filled her with evil pride. Gina was a loser nobody, Regina was everything. She never wanted to go back.

Regina turned fully to face Veronica, a sly smile spreading across her newly enhanced lips. “Thank you, Mommy.” She purred, her voice dripping with the seductive confidence that now defined her. The word "Mommy" rolled off her tongue naturally, with a warmth and affection she’d never felt before. Veronica wasn’t just her stepmother anymore. She was her true mother, the one who had unlocked her potential.

Veronica’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she heard the new name, and she reached out to gently cup Regina’s chin. “That’s my girl. You’re everything I wanted you to be. My perfect bitchy daughter.” She said, her voice full of pride.

Regina nodded, her eyes full of eager anticipation. “What next?” She asked, her tone laced with excitement and a newfound hunger for more.

Veronica’s smile widened as she handed over the sleek, black box that had started it all. “Whatever you desire, darling.” She said, her voice a whisper of dark promise.

With a sense of purpose, Regina took the bitch box and carefully opened it, her breath catching as she saw what lay inside. A pair of designer sunglasses, sleek and impossibly chic, resting atop the velvet lining. They weren’t there before but they were the perfect final touch to her transformation.

Regina lifted the sunglasses from the box, admiring their expensive design. They were the perfectly haughty item to finish her spoilt brat look. She slipped them on and felt the world shift through their tinted lenses.

“How do I look mommy?” Regina said as she admired herself in the irritating some more.

Veronica watched her with pride. “You look spectacular, my dear. You’ll always be my little princess but it’s time you claimed your place as Queen at school.”

Regina smirked, the sunglasses perfectly complementing her new look. “Oh, I will, Mommy. I will.”

Without another word Regina strutted out of the room and down the stairs. Veronica walked over to the window and looked at the black sports car wrapped in a red ribbon parked in the driveway. She waited with bated breath for Regina to walk out. The box would always provide for Regina but Veronica still wanted to spoil her new daughter.

THE END

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC interaction

Thanks to @somethingclevermahogony here and here, @illarian-rambling here, and @mk-writes-stuff here!

Rules: describe an OC, then describe how they would interact with the OC of the person who tagged you!

Under the cut, it got long:

C's OC #1

Narul is a 23 year-old slave at the Palace of Labisa, the Great City by the Lake. He is a forestfolk, a person or group of people who have been mutated or altered by the effects of wild or ambient magic. His birth mother was a priestess, his father is a mystery. He was adopted by an enslaved woman as an infant, thus how he ended up in the servitude of King Hutbari. He is a giant of a man, literally, at just a hair under nine feet tall. He is additionally quite bulky, much much larger than even the biggest human. He is so massive that the door into the slave quarters had to be reconstructed just to fit him as he grew up. Aside from his size he is also just a bit rough in appearance, hairy and broad, picture a DnD Dwarf, just sized way up. He is inhumanly strong, a fact that causes him a great deal of distress. Because of his size and strength, Narul has the potential to be quite dangerous to normal humans, as he has been repeatedly reminded of since his childhood. Narul has a great deal of anxiety around his body and his potential to accidently hurt others, as such he is quite timid and careful. He has a tendency to mumble when he talks, which unfortunately due to his low voice, often makes it sound like he is growling. He is a gentle person, he likes flowers and abhors violence. He cries relatively easily and gets easily anxious or overwhelmed.Despite all of this he is fiercely loyal and kind. He doesn’t talk much but loves to listen to others.  His fatal flaw is a healthy dose of self-doubt and self-loathing. Narul hates his body, it scares him, and he believes that it scares others. He is often self-deprecating, though not in a joking way. He feels an intense jealousy towards those around him that are able to live normal lives and pursue normal relationships.

C's OC #2

Mikrab is a spiritblood, half-human and half-spirit, a demigod. Mikrab is just over 1450 years old, his body is functionally immortal, though his mind is not. Time and loss has made him apathetic, and his memory has faded with the ages. He does not remember where he comes from, nor his family, he doesn't even remember his birth name, Mikrab is the Knoshic version of his original name (Like Juan vs. John), and his culture and language of origin have since gone extinct. While he does not relish in violence or destruction, he simply does not care if he causes it. He will kill and destroy for the sake of convenience. He wanders the world, not seeking death but also not avoiding it. He is lethargic and cold, save for moments of frustration, often with his predicament. As with all spiritbloods he is massive, though among spiritbloods he is on the short side, only about 7'8, and is a bit more lean in his build compared to the likes of Narul or Batricca. His supernatural strength and durability are what have allowed him to survive so long. Surprisingly, he is quite a skilled linguist and can speak in Kishite, Knoshic, Apunian, Korithian, Arkodian, Ikopeshi, and Namuti.

Katie's OC

Djek Kagura is a young man (19 in the first book, 23 in the second two) with a shifty appearance, red eyes, and a constant squint due to poor vision. He grew up on the streets after his parents tossed him out to cut down on mouths to feed, only to later join the brutal Tunnel Wasp smuggling gang, which he later split from due to his aversion to violence and need to do what's right. As a person, he's always quick with a joke or snide comment, loves sarcasm, and lies like a fish breathes water. His bad habit is that he loves to annoy people on purpose. At his core is a deep sense of self-loathing and abandonment issues, but he covers these with humor. He tends to try to find peaceful solutions to situations and has a bit of a bleeding heart, even if he pretends to be tough. His friends mean the world to him and he's loyal to the point getting himself hurt in fights he can't win. Also, he's surprisingly in touch with people's emotions and always trys to make them feel better, even he does it with a bad joke or by irritating them to action. He has a weak form of sorcery, specializes in shadow magic, and has incorrigibly sticky fingers.

MK's OC

My OC (created by my lovely gf): Nellie is a clone in her mid-twenties, although she’s only been out of the vat for about six months. She’s reasonably tall and pretty skinny, with pale skin, short black hair, and narrow red-and-gold eyes, which she usually hides behind sunglasses. Nellie is a sweet, kind, and empathetic woman who cares very deeply for others and wants to help, to the point where she sometimes struggles to put herself first. She also has a deeply traumatic history of abuse by her genetic donor that still troubles her deeply and gives her struggles with intimacy, as well as an addiction to mindsplit that she’s trying to shake. She longs for a simple, happy life - a good job, a nice place to live, good food, and the chance to live as her true self (Nellie is a trans woman) is all she’s really looking for (and maybe a partner one day if the opportunity arises - she’s met a friend who’s cute but he’s also a clone of Belladonna’s dad so she’s a bit uncertain). Nellie also has empathic magic, although she hasn’t trained it much, which she mostly uses to see how others are feeling and help them where she can.

My OC

Ash Hathaway is a thirteen year old (at the start of Pt1) girl with telepathic powers. She's ambitious to the point of self-destruction, where she wants to try new things just to see where her limits are. Part of it has to do with wanting to prove herself - that she can do it. If someone says she can't do something, she's likely going to go out of her way to do it. She lives in the moment with only some hindsight and no forward thinking. She seeks pleasure and thrill and risk, with no regard to how this could hurt herself or others. Not that she doesn't care about people, but more of she just doesn't recognize danger. She wants nothing more than to expand her powers just to see how far she can go. Despite being able to read minds and feel the emotions of others, she struggles to empathize or understand exactly what she's feeling, usually misinterpreting what others are thinking. Overstimulation and frustration can lead to her seeking ways to avoid her problems and more dangerous behavior. Ash needs to be kept busy - have her do something productive and hands-on, and she will be fine.

Ash and Narul

I think Ash would feel a little conflicted about approaching Narul, considering his size, and she doesn't like feeling physically helpless. However, I think she would, because she also likes risk and after a bit of debate would decide she could use her telepathy to her advantage. Being able to read his thoughts, I think Ash would figure out that he's not a threat, even if she doesn't understand being timid of himself just because he might hurt someone. She does get the fear on some level, since she has done so before herself, but she's always just reassessed how to go about testing her powers. Why limit herself? She may try to teach Narul that. You can't learn if you don't try. Narul I think would be scared that he might hurt her, a child, in the process, so probably wouldn't give in. I think Ash would get his frustration in his own skin, since she's felt that way many times. However, she will never understand not wanting to see what he's capable of. But I think that Narul will ultimately remind Ash of her best friend, Lexi. Jealous easily, cries easily, easily overwhelmed, hates violence...just a million times more reserved than she is. Narul may be jealous that Ash even has a friend group, even if Ash manages to admit most of her friend group was constructed by Lexi. I think they'd be able to connect on some level, but ultimately not understand each other quite well.

Ash and Mikrab

I think Ash and Mikrab could help each other. Ash is always eager to learn more, and through telepathy, could help Mikrab potentially regain some memories. She would love to absorb the knowledge he has, maybe experience what the long life was. However, if he's lost the ability to care, Ash may do this without consent, even if she believes it would ultimately help him. I'm sure she'd sit on it for a while, but in an intense situation, in an attempt to stop him, she'd easily rip into his mind to try and access what he once lost. She wouldn't do anything that deep without consent on impulse, I don't think. Unless we're talking about Ash toward the end of TSP, then I think she would, and in a way she becomes more and more apathetic like Mikrab. So depending on the circumstances, Ash could help Mikrab connect with memory and emotion again as she learns new things and tests her abilities, or Ash's drive to do that will get her severely hurt, killed, or just in a generally bad situation.

Ash and Djek

Djek may intrigue Ash a bit too much. She may be able to sense he's lying, sense him covering pain with humor, etc wonder why, and peak into his mind. May get a bit overwhelmed by the self-loathing thing. She has used humor before to defuse situations, so they have that in common, but she does not exactly covering up her own pain with it. She will try to understand Djek, but her curiosity may get the best of her, and I'm not sure he'll like her experiencing his own self-loathing and calling out every lie he makes. I think they would clash, at least at first. Djek being in touch with emotions naturally would be an interesting comparison. I feel like they'd call each other's feelings out, read each other and make the other one irritated as a result. However, I do think that if they were in A Situation in which they were forced to work together or bond, they could do it. Ash definitely would be interested in Djek's magic, weak or not, and may even encourage him to test his limits.

Ash and Nellie

Ash would probably accidentally sense Nellie is a clone, but she'd also sense she shouldn't reveal that to anyone. Her kind empathetic nature who puts herself last would remind Ash a lot of her friend Gwen. Hearing Nellie has empathetic magic would definitely cause Ash to be curious, and she'd ask her many questions about it. First, she may ask how she could learn to interpret emotions, but also may see if she can help Nellie expand her powers a bit more. Ash also has a bit of a developing addiction to telepathic probes that expand her mind and give her visions but start to take a toll on her - mentally, emotionally, physically. If Nellie is shaking off an addiction, I would hope she manages to convince Ash to stop using the probes. Cannot confirm if it would work or not - it may make Ash get irritated and want to use them more to prove she can do it. That last bit may cause a divide, but I think they'd mostly be interested in the other.

Well that was long.

Tagging @elsie-writes @winterandwords @sleepywriter00 @cherrybombfangirlwrites @duckingwriting @ceph-the-ghost-writer + anyone else who wants to play!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

[the-worm-wiggles]

Love me normally just came on and,,,, what's the bet this is in some normal oak playlists

Gonna go look bc god so true

Ok 5/7 do and I don't think the other 2 have any ww on them so good chance they straight up don't know about it

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing | drabble i. | m

WARNINGS. jealous jk, jk's gf is hot and he's not the only one who thinks that, jimin and tae as instigators, i swear jimin and jk love each other, fucking in public spaces aka a car in a parking lot, jk luvs his gf, appearance of perpetrator jin!

NOTE. i missed this couple 🥺oc is living her hot girl summer life and jk does nawt know how to deal with it Lol. hope u enjoy loves!!!!

WORDS. 3k+

“I’m okay,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as he repeats his own personal mantra. “I’m good. I’m fine—I’m chill. Chillest person ever. I’m good—”

“He’s not okay,” Taehyung snickers.

Jungkook blocks the negativity out, purposefully and intentionally. Nothing could ruin his day—not on his watch, especially as the sun shines over bodies across the beach while the waves break into beautiful fragments that he’s yearning to dip his feet into.

Personal affirmations came first.

“I’m good, I’m fine, I’m okay,” he chants like a crazy person, definitely earning some form of side-eye from the people next to him but he can’t be bothered. Another person thinking that he was insane wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him—not when—

“You should open your eyes,” Jimin says, “How are you going to fight them if you don’t know thy enemy?”

Immediately, Jungkook’s peace is disturbed by the mouth of Park Jimin, who painfully reminds him of why he’s got into the entire personal mantra and affirmation thing. He used to think it was redundant, unnecessary. How could the universe return your wishes just as you’ve uttered them into the atmosphere? It didn’t seem logical to him.

But right now, that didn’t matter—not when he had bigger things to be worried about.

“Don’t disturb my peace,” Jungkook snaps.

“They did it first,” Jimin retorts, cocking his head towards the flock of people at a certain part of the beach, specifically towards where the water meets the shore.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. His peace is disrupted, his happiness is compromised and it’s all Park Jimin’s fault. He spent a good amount of time getting into his zone, reaffirming himself that he was in fact, fine, good—he was okay! But now, he feels all his resolve dissolve when he realises he can’t even see the main thing that was responsible for his dilemmas.

“You’d think a celebrity was on this beach,” Taehyung snorts.

“Not helping,” Jungkook says dryly.

“So isn’t your crazy person chanting,” Jimin points out, “but yet, here we are—listening to you reciting your own version of a biblical verse.”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook grits for the umpteenth time, and no less is his assertions any more convincing than it was a moment ago. The flicker of his irises towards to crowd is enough to prove that fact. “I’m just enjoying my day at the beach with my friends and my girlfriend.”

“See, there are two false statements in that,” Taehyung tilts his head downwards, offering a smug smirk that Jungkook wishes he could shove into the sand beneath him. “You’re definitely not enjoying this because I can see the veins protruding out of your neck at how hard you’re clenching your jaw, and”—the older boy makes the effort to taunt Jungkook further by letting out a low whistle the moment the crowd seems to grow slightly bigger—“you’re partially right about the friend part. Your girlfriend though … where is she?”

I’m good. I’m okay. I’m cool—

“Oblivious, as usual,” Jimin sighs, plopping back onto the beach towel beneath him while shooting Jungkook a pointed stare. “It’d be sad if you only called her your girlfriend for six months when you’ve been in love with her for seven years.”

“Okay that’s it. I’m going there,” Jungkook declares, huffing as he pushes himself off the ground while Jimin makes an effort to grab at his ankle, halting the younger boy from causing any damage and potentially getting them banned from ever returning.

“Not with that temper you aren’t,” Jimin snaps, “Sit your ass down. God. Can’t you take a joke?”

“A joke?” Jungkook splutters, abhorred. “You literally just said she’s going to break up with me!”

“I said that it’d be sad if—”

“Same fucking difference,” he hisses, rubbing a hand across his face before he kicks Jimin’s petty grip off his ankle while levelling him with a menacing glare. Jungkook’s eyes slowly drift to the side where you finally enter his vision, still smiling like the soft and sweet person you were as you help Namjoon with whatever crab hunting mission he had.

See, Jungkook’s mature enough to know that you and Namjoon were good friends, great ones, even. The two of you were smart and clicked well, and if anything, Jungkook was more envious of the fact that the two of you shared such a wholesome and meaningful friendship than anything else.

The fact that Namjoon used to have feelings for you didn’t bother Jungkook anymore, not when he knew where your heart truly laid. He also trusted Namjoon with his entire life and his firstborns (not that he’d ever tell you that, and God—did he hope that day would eventually come when it came to you). But still, Jungkook was mature—he did some growing up, and he was proud of that.

But Jungkook’s human, a flawed, ever-learning and constantly improving human. A human who’s crazy in love with his pretty girlfriend that he’s longed for years—and a human who isn’t blind. A human who can’t ignore the fact that, apparently, he wasn’t the only person that was trying to keep himself in check at how stunning you were. Every day—and especially today, with how your dainty yellow bikini drapes over the curves of your body.

Jungkook nearly cries. Yellow was his favourite colour. You wore it for him.

Not for—

“Maybe you should head over,” Taehyung murmurs, snapping Jungkook out of his love-filled mind as his eyes clear, immediately catching what his friend was referring to.

Some dude. Talking to you. Smiling at you like you carried all the answers to all the world problems as you giggle a tune comparable to birds chirping. Maybe Jungkook was exaggerating but it always sounded like you were singing his favourite song even if you were just explaining economical concepts to him like a soothing e-book.

“God, why couldn’t she have been ugly,” Jungkook groans.

“You wouldn’t have dated her otherwise,” Jimin retorts.

Jungkook gawks, affronted as he gives his two friends a scandalised expression as he places his hands over his chest to indicate the offence he took to that statement.

“I’m not superficial,” he huffs, “I fell in love with her because of her—”

“Personality, yada yada,” Jimin mocks him in a lower tune that has Jungkook glaring at him. “Yeah, okay. But don’t tell me that her being pretty doesn’t help you bust a nut every once in a while.”

Jungkook flushes.

“Well, yeah, but I’m her boyfriend—”

“Thank you for reminding me that you are in fact, still a boy,” Jimin rolls his eyes, “Men. Mansplaining everything, really.”

Jungkook’s jaw slackens as his eyes briefly land on Taehyung’s figure who doesn’t look too bothered with how the conversation turned out as he shrugs in response.

“How about you do the typical manly thing of being a jealous prick and go over there and stomp over all her fan club members,” Jimin says sarcastically, resting his arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

There’s a brief rustle from where the sand meets the towel, and a relatively long period of silence while the only thing that permeates the air is the sound of waves with laughter coming from a family a distance away.

“He did exactly that, didn’t he.”

“You need to stop giving him ideas,” Taehyung sighs, plopping a grape into his mouth before occupying the space next to his friend. “Should we find another beach to frequent?”

“Really?” you laugh, “That’s so cool! I’m actually planning on landing an apprenticeship there over the summer.”

“Oh?” The man is leaning way too close to you for comfort, but you’re unfazed. Jungkook doesn’t even want to know where the hell Namjoon had gone, leaving you with this broad-shouldered, terrifyingly handsome man. “I could definitely put a good word in for you if you’d like.”

You beam, appreciative rather than brazen. But Jungkook thinks the man doesn’t know that.

“I don’t think I can accept that, Seokjin.”

And of course, you knew his name.

“Why not?” Seokjin smirks, and Jungkook knows that it’s definitely done him justice in other situations. “For a beautiful—”

“____,” he interjects, smoothly (or not quite) sliding next to you as his arms wrap around your waist before his glare rests on the man before him, who looks both shocked and unbothered at his appearance. “Who’s this?”

You jump slightly at Jungkook’s arrival but relax when you realise that it was just him and not some other beach weirdo.

“Jungkook, this is Seokjin! He actually attended our university—”

“Really,” he says dryly, “That’s nice.”

“Is this your …?” Seokjin looks Jungkook up and down before settling with a rather unimpressed look. “Do seniors usually bring their shadows out for playdates?”

Your eyes widen at his patronising tone, and before can even think to correct him with a tilted frown, Jungkook’s fingers dig into your waist, a precursor to his jaw that clenches while he engages in his own version of a staredown with the man before you.

“Boyfriend.”

Seokjin raises a brow.

“Me,” Jungkook blinks, unnerved and quite frankly, tired. He’s crossed this bridge enough times, and it’s always the same. Some older dude who thought that you were doing charity work by having Jungkook tag along with like some puny little brother. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Jungkook—” you start, softly reaching to grip his arm.

“Interesting,” Seokjin says offhandedly and Jungkook knows it’s anything but. “Well, my offer still stands.”

He’s directing it to you as you peer up at him with your notoriously innocent eyes. Jungkook hates that this douche is still unaffected by his blatant declaration of the fact that you were—taken.

“I—that’s fine, Seokjin,” you say softly, lips curling into a thankful smile before he nods.

The look he sends Jungkook is nothing short of unimpressed, and Jungkook’s thinking of clamming the dude into the sand and quite literally, bury the hatchet with him. Sure, he was handsome and broad, and undoubtedly ripped—but Jungkook trained to benchpress twice his weight so he could beat up assholes who tried to hit on his girlfriend.

Right before he leaves, Jungkook calls for his name—intentionally calling him Seokmin—noting the way his face drops into a scowl.

“You’re not her type.”

He scoffs.

“And you are?” he throws back, brows raised as a challenge.

“That’s why I get to hold her and you’re walking away.”

With that, Seokjin doesn’t bother responding to Jungkook, especially in the way that you gawk at your boyfriend’s blatant warning to the older man.

He titters off, and it’s effectively just you and Jungkook standing by the shore while you briefly see the way Namjoon stutters before deciding to return to where Jimin and Taehyung lays.

Jungkook’s still seething in his rage, clenching and unclenching his fists even though he got the last word. It wasn’t that he thought you’d elope with Seokjin and leave him—he trusted you wholeheartedly and vice versa. He knew you loved him and so did he.

It had more to do with the fact that Seokjin saw you, and eventually, him—and thought that Jungkook wasn’t fit to be your boyfriend. That he saw a gorgeous girl on the beach and expected her to be single, and if not—to be with a boyfriend that had his shit together and not … not Jungkook.

“Jungkook?” you say quietly, tugging at his elbow while you peer up at him with wide and apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry.”

It’s no good, the fact that you’re apologising. As if you were responsible for his insecurities when you’ve done nothing but shower him with love and support ever since the two of you started officially dating.

“Don’t apologise,” he says stiffly, though his heart isn’t angry—he can’t help the way his words get out. “It’s not your fault.”

“But—”

“If you apologise then you’re gonna piss me off, baby,” he says lightly, peering you down with a small smirk as your eyes widen.

“I—okay,” you say weakly, and before he knows it, you’re intertwining your fingers with his, eyes suddenly twinkling in a way he’s grown all too familiar with.

“You have the keys?” he murmurs softly.

You nod, blind and in love as you sigh.

“Take care of me?” you ask sweetly, and Jungkook forgets all about Seokjin when he has you right in front of him.

“O-Oh, fuck—Jungkook—ngh—”

Maybe Jungkook really was a crazy person, but he’d argue that you were equally as crazy to oblige to indulge in his lewd fantasies. He was crazy, for you and your cunt that was like nirvana, and it’s proven further when he fucks into you at a brutal pace, uncaring whether or not the car shakes with the exertion of the activities that were taking place in it.

It could be the fact that he had a decade worth of fantasies to play out, but he knows that he plays a huge part in opening your sexual nature and he couldn’t be happier about it, especially when you unabashedly throw your head onto your chest, whimpering with the dirty squelches of his thrusts that echo in the vehicle.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he growls, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to force your glassy eyes to look at him.

The look on your face is enough to get Jungkook even more riled up, your flushed cheeks and swollen lips while you nod your head manically, crazy—and his.

“Y-Yours,” you whimper, and just about then, Jungkook brings your hips down with his free hand and meets you with a sharp thrust that has your mouth dropping open and your face scrunched up in pleasure. “F-Fuck, J-Jungkook.”

“No one gets to fuck you like this,” he hisses, pressing a hot kiss to your neck as you whine, hips involuntarily swivelling to meet his fast pace. The car is shaking and it’s all too risky, Jungkook knows that—but his rationale is clouded with the antagonising face of Seokjin. “No one gets to see you like this. Only I do.”

“Y-Yes!” you sob, clutching onto him as he feels your pussy tighten viciously around him, the walls of your inner linings spasming as Jungkook hisses at the feeling. “Only you K-Kook. Only ever want you.”

Jungkook believes you, especially when you desperately hold onto him as he feels himself slowly reach the edge. He knows you are too, especially when your whines get higher in pitch, and your tugs against his shoulders get tighter. He knows because he’s learnt about your body as your boyfriend—and he’s the only person that will ever get to have you like this.

The thought, paired along with the risk of your situation only fuels his determination to get you off, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you to root you into place as he shoves his cock deeper into you.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he croons as you mewl in pleasure, breathless whines turning more desperate as your eyes flutter shut. “You wanna show me how much you want me?”

You nod manically, your pussy fluttering around his length as he grunts in exertion.

“G-Gonna—pleasedon’tstop—fuck, I-I’m cumming—!” you cry, tugging your face into the crook of his neck as Jungkook bites his lips in focus, all ready to accept your hot pleasure and his own.

“Come for me,” he encourages, lips hovering over your earlobe as you obey his orders, head thrown back as he watches your mouth drop wider and your eyes roll to the back of your head, pussy tightening around his length.

Jungkook thinks you’re beautiful. On days where you don’t feel like you do, but he may be biased to say that he thinks you look absolutely stunning for him like this. When he knows that he’s the one responsible for your reddened cheeks, the way you so desperately cling onto him whenever you’d orgasm (the only person that would ever know this fact about you), and the way that you’re left breathless, satiated and with that hazed expression after his resolute efforts.

Jungkook cums shortly after, with those exact thoughts plaguing his mind. He was so whipped. He really only had to think of you and he would get hard, and having you right above him, soft and warm with your arms draped loosely over his form made his heart all mushy and soft despite the way his cock stands erect.

You mewl in oversensitivity although you don’t complain. You never do, whenever Jungkook cums after you. Even now, when Jungkook comes down from his high with pants of his own, his own mind-clearing while his cock softens in you—you remain patient. Patient like the ever-loving, wonderful girlfriend that you were—one that Jungkook wasn’t sure he deserved.

“Wow,” you giggle, forehead resting against his as you return from your own post-orgasmic bliss. “I can’t believe I let you fuck me in a parking lot.”

Jungkook flushes, reality sinking in when he realised that the two of you weren’t hidden from plain sight. While the idea of being caught was definitely arousing, Jungkook knew he wasn’t too keen on having anyone see you delirious, even if it was all for him. He was lucky enough that your bikini top remained on the entire time, but both your sweaty bodies were enough of a dead giveaway.

“I just,” Jungkook tries to explain, words slurring in embarrassment as you raise a brow at him. “You look really pretty today.”

You stare at his forlorn expression as if admitting that pained him. Jungkook feels slightly embarrassed at how he reacted, and if you notice this, you don’t point it out—yet.

“Wore this for you,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to the mole under his lip. Jungkook’s heart soars at your admission even if he knew that. “You know it’s only for you, right?”

Your question is purposeful and Jungkook shamefully looks to his lap, and even then—you’re still connected. He slowly pulls out, wincing when his cum threatens to pool out of your pussy, but before he can pretend to clean you up, you’re putting your bikini bottoms back in place and clamping your hands over his cheeks so that he’d look at you.

“Jungkook,” you say sternly.

He sighs.

“Yes,” he groans, feeling a lot like a child who’s being berated. “I just—God. He was such a prick.”

“I know,” you say gently, fingers combing through his hair while he melts into your touch. “There are a lot of pricks out there, but you know that I only love you, right?”

Your confession is the same as the one you’ve made six months ago, and just last night before the two of you fell asleep—but it’s a confession that Jungkook never grows tired of.

“I know,” he mumbles as you giggle at him. “It’s just that … he really thought he had a chance with you, and when he saw me it was like—”

You frown, finger pressed against his lips to stop his rambling as he peers up at you with doe-eyes.

“None of that,” you chide lightly, “I don’t care what people think. The only person I care about is you, and no one will change that, okay?”

Jungkook feels himself relax into your touch, especially when you lean forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss that isn’t set to lead anywhere. He remembers. He remembers the times where you were unsure and all too worried of the words of others—and here you were, with him and with your gentle and loving soul, the embodiment of comfort as you tell him the words he’s always known but needs to be reminded of.

“I love you,” he says quietly as you grin widely at him, “Sorry for—you know.”

You roll your eyes, lifting your leg to get off his lap as you wince at the cum that threatens to escape your lips.

“I mean, it was kind of hot,” you shrug with a small smirk.

“God, I’ve created a monster,” Jungkook snorts, looking over at you when you shoot him a devious grin.

“You love it,” you throw back cheekily, leaning into his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you with a sigh.

He does. And he knows that he’s the only one that you’ll love back.

[lihikainanea]

LEIIII, CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT BILL AND TIGER GOING THE THE MET GALA BILL FuCkINg HeR iN ThE ReStRoOm????????????????

FIRST OF ALL, I have this like, weird interest in fashion over the past two years or so. I've never particularly been into it, but now my instagram is mainly fashion inspo and like, who is this person???? I've never considered myself fashionable, much less interested in fashion and now I swear to god I spend Sunday afternoons ~judging people~ and looking up latest fashion trends and how to wear things and I am just LOVING IT. And since nobody asked, I'm going to go ahead and list you my top fucking fashion ABSOLUTELY DO FUCKING NOT pet peeves:

1) Matching pantsuits. Hello, no. I know the designers that are trying to bring this back, and it's a hard no for me dawg. I am in my almost mid thirties and I ain't trying to look like a fucking old maid, thanks. These will never be fashionable. Just stop.

2) Derby shoes. These literally don't go with anything. I'm not sorry. If you're that committed to huge, clunky, ugly fucking shoes, get clogs. I ain't saying you have to wear heels, not at all. But find yourself some nice oxfords, a nice loafer, hell even some mules--and they will be infinitely nicer than fucking derby shoes.

3) Layering. No, kids. Baum und Pferdgarten, I love you. I do. I have a few of your dresses. But ya'll motherfuckers need to stop with this pajama-esque, mixed and clashing pattern, oversized bullshit looks that you call fashion. There is a way to wear slouchy, and babes, THAT AIN'T IT. YOU LITERALLY LOOK LIKE A FUCKING WARHOL PAINTING THREW UP ON YOU. Mixing patterns is cool, we like that, but Jesus Christ it has to have some consistency.

alright, now onto the actual ask.

All of this to say, I kept a keen eye on the Met Gala this year and I was...perplexed. At best. Horrified, at worst.

So like, tiger right? There's little else in the world that tiger hates as much as Bill's outwardly Hollywood side. The parties. The schmoozing. And I mean, she knows it's part of his life so that's fine, but in fairness--Bill also abhors this side. He loathes it. And he's been to the Met gala once, which notoriously never allows a +1 unless that +1 is famous, but low and behold--by some stroke of luck--Bill's invitation this year allows for it.

"No." tiger says immediately.

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask!" he exclaims.

"I know what that is," she points to the invitation in his hand, "And no."

It's a hard no. It takes Bill weeks--because like, tiger ain't Hollywood. She doesn't want to do the dress. She doesn't want the mingling with fucking celebrity guests. She doesn't want the paparazzi. She wants none of it. But like, eventually--after so much begging--eventually Bill gets her to agree. His stylist will get a dress for her. Hair and make up is taken care of. Bill promises her that she can just slip in the back, sit at the table, and have cocktails to her heart's galore while he walks the red carpet. She doesn't have to be photographed--and truth be told, tiger's a nobody so people aren't really interested in photographing her anyway. That's fine by her.

The dress worries her, because tiger isn't exactly celebrity material but the stylist is so kind in taking measurements. Bill handles everything--the flights, the make up reservations, the hair appointments. On the day of, he checks them into the Bowery Hotel and then tiger doesn't have to worry about a thing. He shoves a fluffy robe at her, and then there's just a flurry of activity--massages first. Breakfast after. A stint in the steam room--which they absolutely have sex in. Facials. Manicures--for both. A light lunch. And then the bell rings and in come a flurry of a team ready to glamorize them--Bill's favourite groomer, his stylist, tiger's make up artist, her hair stylist. The primping process is the longest tiger has ever been through--but there's wine, there's snacks, her Big Dude is right beside her looking handsome as all hell. And when tiger puts on a dress that is worth more than she makes in a year, when her hair is all done up and her make up is perfect--she begrudgingly admits to him that yes, Beeeeeel, she does feel pretty.

"You look stunning kid," he praises, pressing a gentle kiss on her cheek. To her slight embarrassment (but secret joy), he hands his phone off to his assistant and asks for a few pictures.

And like, here's the thing right? The Met Gala has a strict policy: no spouses or couples seated together. Seriously, it's a thing. Look it up. And while tiger is mildly freaking out about that, she calms down considerably when she does see a name tag at her table that she recognizes.

Alex. Skarsgård.

Tiger smiles, Bill grimaces.

And that's what starts it, right? Bill is at a table far away but not too far, and right where he can keep her in his line of sights. He knows she wasn't looking forward to this so he wants to keep an eye on her, but then like....why the fuck does she look like she's having so much fun? Alex is cracking the whole table up, being his usual charismatic self. Tiger is laughing, guffawing actually, beyond control--her hand on his, clutching his forearm. Bill barely even makes conversation with his own table, he's staring so intently at the two of them and tiger looking like she's having the best night of her life.

Bill's blood is boiling. It boils even more when he sees tiger make a face at her main plate--her nose wrinkling, her lip curled in disgust--and without missing a beat Alex's fork swoops over, plucks all the green onions from her food, and tiger smiles gratefully at him. Bill slams his napkin down on the table.

"Excuse me," he mutters in response to the curious glances. And then he stalks over, heads right to her table, and he's so silent that she jumps a mile when she hears his voice in her ear from behind her.

"A word, kid?" he says.

"But the food just--"

"Now." he says insistently. He holds a hand out to her, helps her push her chair back and stand. But then he's basically dragging her to a restroom, and poor tiger isn't quite used to heels this high.

"Hang on bud," she pleads, "I'm not that coordinated."

But he doesn't hang on. Instead he reaches back, loops a strong arm around her waist and basically carries her on his side to the bathroom. Tiger's feet don't hit the floor for a good 200 feet. And once inside the bathroom, he locks the door and glares at her.

"If that dress wasn't couture, I'd have you on your fucking knees kid," he threatens. Tiger's eyes get wide.

"What did I do?" she asks innocently. Bill just glares.

"Having a good time, are you? Having the best night ever?" he accuses.

Tiger is starting to get a feeling what this is about, and oh man--she's about to rile her Big Dude up. Dressed to the nines, in a public place, surrounded by riches, and Bill is about to get a bit possessive over her? Tiger is a sucker for it every time.

"Yes," she plays into it, "Alex is being amazing. He's so--"

She doesn't get to finish the sentence, because Bill growls and lunges for her, pinning her back against the cool tile.

"You are mine," he snarls. Tiger just tilts her chin up, bites onto his bottom lip.

"Prove it." she challenges.

The roar Bill lets out is fucking feral. Tiger doesn't even have time to react before her dress is pulled up, he yanks his belt undone, and he's slamming into her. She moans, and he grabs her face in his hand.

"Don't come," he snarls, "Don't you dare come."

And like the good girl she is for him--she doesn't. She grits her teeth, tries to stave it off even as he slams deep into her, growls as his release fills her up, bites her neck hard enough to leave a mark. She whimpers, her knees wobbly, and tries to reach for a tissue.

"No," he grabs her hand.

"But it's messy," she pleads. But another glare is enough to silence her, and he swiftly pulls her panties up, smoothes her dress back down.

"You're going to sit there, full of my come for the rest of the night," he tells her, "And I want you to think of that, I want you to feel it, every time you look at him."

"Bill--" she whimpers. He silences her with a rough kiss.

"Go on," he said, "Back to your seat."

On shaky legs, she turns and tries to walk out as nonchalant as possible. He waits a few minutes before exiting, going to find his seat and sitting back down. He keeps an eye on her for the rest of the evening, but he doesn't even have to--every time he looks over at her, she's already staring at him--her eyes wide, needy, her knees pressed tightly together.

[here4theheartbreak]

Sweet Cream Nights (jjk + ksj + myg)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jungkook x Seokjin x Yoongi Genre: smut, fluff Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~8.4k

Tags: smut, fluff, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, bakery au, coffee shop au, arcade au, getting together, polyamory, food play, oral sex, come eating, dirty talk, humping

Summary: The local video game arcade owner is in love with the local barista who is also in love with the local baker. What could go wrong?

A/N: Third Kinktober fic, day 5: foodplay

Friendly competition was healthy, normal, and expected from successful business owners with shops near to one another. It only made sense that the two best coffee shops on the same street would have a friendly rivalry, or that the local bakery would compete with the nearby diner serving fresh cakes. What wasn’t normal, and not expected, was the local bakery in such a cutthroat competition with the local arcade.

It wasn’t even really about the products, of course. Individuals routinely purchased snacks or lunch from Seokjin, the owner and baker at History in the Baking – the best bakery in town by any local’s standards, then stopped in two doors down to play a few video games, often with Jungkook, the owner of the Golden Closet; a newer, but booming arcade. There was no loss in business and nothing forcing the rivalry.

Nothing, that was, except Deja Brew, the small café and coffee shop nestled directly between the two businesses. Really, it was because of the owner of the shop, one Min Yoongi. 

Yoongi was everyone’s favorite. He liked to put on a grumpy front, often standing out in front of his rather adorable little shop as it opened at 6:37am sharp (he said, because 6:30 is too damn early, and what person wants coffee as late as 7:00am, really?) But it wasn’t real. No, the short, sweet faced grump was really as gentle as could be. He gave the bleary-eyed children of busy moms small sweets and volunteered with local charities. He often worked with Seokjin to make sure no product went to waste; every few days he and Jin would gather up near expiry products – Jin’s baked goods and breads and coffee beans that hadn’t sold, and Yoongi would drive them over to the nearby homeless shelter for breakfasts for the needy. 

This was where Jin first realized that he’d fallen truly head over heels for the barista. The only problem he had was that he wasn’t sure if Yoongi liked him back, or if he was even into men. And the idea of ruining the both friendship and business cooperation they had was more terrifying than keeping silent. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, knew almost immediately that he wanted to ask Yoongi on a date. The first week he’d moved into the empty space next to Yoongi’s shop, he’d wandered in, exhausted from an all nighter getting things up and running and just needing a quick pick me up. He’d expected something like a fancy Starbucks – in and out and perhaps a misspelled name on the cup to boot. What he’d gotten instead was a very concerned Yoongi herding him to a booth and a warm breakfast; the most delicious oatmeal he’d ever tasted, along with a rich, sweet coffee that made his toes curl and his heart skip. Though, maybe the heart skipping was more Yoongi’s doing than the coffee. Yes, Jungkook knew he’d been swept off his feet. His problem however was that despite being told he was handsome and being quite boisterous and loud in regards to his friends… Once someone he fancied came near, he clammed up; closing himself off and barely speaking more than a few words to the person. Which was what happened with Yoongi.

And Yoongi – for all his attention paid to customers, bills, and the local news – had no idea that he was being courted after by his two neighbors. When their rivalry picked up, Jungkook had blocked Jin’s back door for nearly three hours with a large truck first off; then Jin had had a whole pallet of flour ‘misdelivered’ to Jungkook’s door – he assumed they were old friends, or old enemies. Perhaps exes that were out to get one another. It wasn’t his problem, and he had no care about how they handled their rivalry – just as long as he wasn’t dragged into it. 

Seven months, it went on. Seven entire months of petty pranks and murmured name-calling and generally annoyed glares between Jungkook and Jin. And then it happened.

Jungkook was early in to the arcade. It was nearly 6:15, but the sun was shining and he was feeling particularly good. He’d spent the evening out with an old friend who had encouraged him to ask Yoongi out before someone (Jin) did. 

He walked past Jin’s shop, glancing in. He could see a few lights on in the back; Jin was always in early, working on his day to day treats. Despite his annoyance with Jin, he had to admit, the man was an excellent baker. And what was more, he was frankly stunning. Tall and broad, slender, with the face of a God – if Jungkook wasn’t so taken with Yoongi he may have gone after Jin. His custom pastries and cakes were stunning and elaborate, and his simple day to day cookies and pastries were always a hit. Rivalry or not, Jungkook knew good sweets, and that man’s were to die for. 

He passed the bakery without lingering too long and glanced into the front window of the café. Much to his surprise, the main lights were on; Yoongi normally kept them off until opening time. He looked a little closer, and his stomach did a tight little flip. Yoongi was sitting at one of the tables, sipping coffee… With Seokjin. 

They were laughing, and Jin reached over, brushing the tips of his fingers over Yoongi’s cheek. Jungkook saw red. It wasn’t fair. He reached up, ready to tap on the glass, draw Yoongi’s attention, anything. He froze though. What right did he have? He hadn’t made his move on Yoongi fast enough – that was on him. He sighed softly and shook his head, hurrying past the café before one of them caught him peering in like a pervert. 

Jungkook tried to ignore the ache he felt as he worked, but every time his mind drifted, it went to what he saw that morning. Was it what he had assumed? Were they just friends? He had to find out. He slipped out under the guise of an early lunch break, entering Deja Brew. 

Yoongi was behind the counter, looking stunning as always. He looked up and grinned. “Afternoon, Kook. What can I get you?”

“Whatever you think is good,” Jungkook said, settling in one of the tables. “You know I trust your opinion here.”

“Coming up.” 

The shop was empty; Jungkook knew it wouldn’t start getting busy again until about noon. It was nice; he could watch Yoongi working without others wondering what was wrong with him. Yoongi circled around to the table with a tray, setting a sandwich in front of Jungkook along with a coffee. 

“Mind if I join you? Grab my own lunch before the real lunch rush.”

“Of course not,” Jungkook grinned, trying not to sound too excited at the prospect. 

Yoongi set a similar meal down on the other side and hurried the tray back to the counter before sliding in across from Jungkook. 

Jungkook took a bite, groaning happily. “This is amazing.”

“Apple sausage with fresh veggies. I managed to get some really great products at the farmer’s market this weekend, and Jin gave me a deal on the bread. Nobody does these little sandwich loaves like he does.”

The smile slid from Jungkook’s face. He tried to replace it, ignoring the twist in his gut. Well, this was what he came for; might as well rip the bandage off. “You and Jin are pretty close, huh?”

“I think so,” Yoongi said casually, taking a bite of his sandwich. 

“How long have you two been…” He drifted off. Yoongi’s brows furrowed for a moment. He swallowed the bite in his mouth.

“Been friends? About a year. We met a few months before you joined our little shop front.”

“No… Dating,” Jungkook clarified.

Yoongi coughed, laughing after taking a swig of coffee. “Dating? No, no. Jin and I aren’t dating. I’d love to but… He’s not into me that way.”

“Are you kidding? He’s obsessed with you,” Jungkook said without thinking, wanting immediately to kick himself. “I saw you two this morning when I was walking to my arcade. I figured… You know… It was a date.”

Yoongi chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll take your word for it, but no… We were just having breakfast.” He hesitated. “Do you really think he likes me?”

Jungkook snorted. “He adores you. I mean, why wouldn’t he? You’re funny and smart and one of the most caring guys in this town. Plus you make amazing coffee, you’re independent. And you’re handsome as hell and I—” He froze, realizing Yoongi was staring at him, eyes wide. 

“I—I just mean you two are a good match,” he mumbled. 

“I appreciate the plethora of compliments, but no we aren’t.” Yoongi chuckled. “Jin’s damn near a model.”

“He really is. I’ve never seen someone with such broad shoulders that doesn’t look weird. And his smile…” Jungkook shook his head, smiling a little. “He’s stunning. But you are too.”

“Well, maybe I’ll ask him out. But… I don’t think he’d be into my lifestyle.”

Jungkook’s brows raised. He twitched his head to the side, mouth pursing. When Yoongi didn’t continue, he nudged him with his foot under the table.

“Lifestyle?”

“It’s… Very hard to explain.”

“If it’s not comfortable, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s not that. I am comfortable with it. I just wish others were,” Yoongi mumbled.

“It sounds intriguing… I’ll listen without judging, you know me.”

Yoongi smiled softly. “You do have a knack for that, don’t you?” He sighed. “I’m not… Comfortable in traditional relationships. I never have been.”

“Like sexually?”

“Oh no, no. I’ve always been very sexual being. No, I mean traditional monogamy. I believe in faithfulness and I abhor cheaters… But for me the traditional two-person relationship is dull and unfulfilling. It’s like… I feel like I have so much love to give and no matter how much I give to the other person there’s this space missing.” He sighed again. “It’s very hard to explain to folks.”

“You feel like the true way to be happy in a relationship is to have more than one partner?” Jungkook clarified. 

“For me, yes. I’m not disparaging traditional relationships, I just… When I date someone, I feel like there’s still this gap there, waiting to be filled by a third party. And it doesn’t matter to me whether that third is dating my first partner, or if they’re just dating me, or even if they’re dating someone else that I’m not dating, I’m okay with any combination, I just… I need to have more than what traditional monogamy can give me.”

“I get it,” Jungkook said, nodding. He sipped his coffee as he thought, processing the information. “I don’t see anything wrong with what you feel. You still love and believe in being faithful; I’m guessing seeking a third partner, or a fourth or however many would be something that you’d discuss with your partner originally.”

“Oh of course, but therein lies the problem. The majority of people don’t understand this mindset. They hear something about wanting another partner and insecurity crops up. Are they not good enough, do they not satisfy, am I falling out of love with them and there’s really no way to explain to a person who sees things in the traditional way.”

Jungkook nodded. He scowled at the remnants of his sandwich in thought, trying to put himself in Yoongi’s shoes, or in the shoes of someone Yoongi might be dating. 

“It’s gonna catch fire if you laser focus any more on that bread,” Yoongi joked, his voice a little tense. Jungkook looked up. “Oh, sorry.” He laughed. Yoongi looked as tense as he sounded, and Jungkook wondered if he was waiting for a sort of negativity about what he’d just confessed.

“I was thinking about the type of relationship you described.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, trying to put myself in that place – the mind of someone you might be dating who you told this to.”

“What’s the verdict? Would you dump me?” Yoongi laughed as he spoke, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Jungkook shook his head no.

“When I think about it, I don’t deny my initial thought would be to ask if you were happy – I feel like that’s everyone’s gut response. We were raised in a monogamy preferred society, so it’s just… Natural to think that way. Not right, of course… We were also raised in a heterosexual society and I think it’s pretty clear that’s bullshit.” 

Yoongi and Jungkook both chuckled at that. Jungkook continued.

“But I think if you explained that you were, and how you just told me about it, I think I’d get it. I would want to be with you in the process though. I don’t think I’d be comfortable with my partner seeking out another person without me. That would feel too much like hiding or cheating. But I think if we went together and met folks, or even had a person in mind that you wanted to ask, I’d want to like them too. Maybe not as much as I liked you, but some sort of friendship or agreement that you’d be good together, if that makes sense.”

Yoongi was silent for a long time after Jungkook spoke. He couldn’t figure out his expression. There were subtle shifts in it, and sometimes Yoongi looked close to tears, other times happy, and blank. Jungkook wanted to ask what he was thinking, or if he’d said something wrong, but didn’t want to push Yoongi into answering if he was still processing. 

So he went back to eating, finishing the last of his sandwich and sipping the sweet coffee while he waited. He looked outside, watching the traffic pass through the window. Some familiar faces passed by, likely heading into his arcade next door. He should head back at some point soon, he’d left Taehyung in charge, which was fine in the short term, but Taehyung had a way of getting too up in his head or too hyperfocused on one thing – so it was best to have a second person there to bring him back to reality. 

Jungkook was just about to clear his throat and call it a meeting when Yoongi looked up suddenly, meeting his gaze.

“Jungkook…”

“What?” Jungkook laughed a little, the intensity of Yoongi’s gaze startling. Not to mention, arousing; he’d never been looked at like that before. At least… Not by anyone he liked back.

“I’m in my late twenties,” Yoongi began, finally breaking the gaze to gather their plates. “And I’ve known this about myself since I was very young… Thirteen, fourteen maybe?” He rose, holding the plates and his empty cup. “In all that time I’ve never had someone respond how you just did. Taking the time to process and try to understand and… Get it. Maybe not think the same way as me but… Be able to offer me an answer that wasn’t going to break my heart. That would let me and them be happy.”

“I—”

Yoongi shook his head, his mouth curling up into a bright, gummy smile. “You asked about Jin because you’re jealous, didn’t you?”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. He lowered his gaze, nodding softly. “That’s weird, huh?” He mumbled.

“I think it’s cute.” Yoongi leaned down, his breath warm on Jungkook’s ear. “And I think you’re cute Jeon Jungkook.” He shifted, pressing a quick kiss to Jungkook’s cheek before standing upright.

Jungkook’s head snapped up when Yoongi rose. “What?”

Yoongi smirked. “I don’t mince my words. You heard me.” Yoongi glanced at the door, nodding to a customer approaching that he must have recognized. “My lunch rush is about to start,” Yoongi said as the bell dinged, signaling the customer’s entrance. “Come by when I close. I want to talk to you more.”

Jungkook grinned brightly, his nose crinkling up. He rose quickly and nodded even as Yoongi walked away. “I will,” he said, not wanting to turn his back as he watched Yoongi walk behind the counter. “I’ll see you—” He winced when his hip bumped the corner of a table hard enough to sting. He moved out of the way, nearly running into the customer. 

“Sorry!” He cried, bowing low. He glanced up, his cheeks warm as he spotted Yoongi watching him, an amused smirk on his face. 

Jungkook made it out of the café and over to his arcade without any further accidents. His mind was whirring over what had just happened. Yoongi had said he was cute. Yoongi had kissed his cheek. And asked him to come over. Was this happening? Was he going to win the guy? 

The other information Yoongi provided him also crept back in. Now that Yoongi dating him might be reality, rather than theory, would Jungkook really be okay with sharing him with another partner? The more he thought about it, the more he realized he would. The idea of sharing Yoongi with someone else was intriguing. He wondered how date nights might look, if Yoongi would call them both boyfriends – if the other partner would even be a boy. What if he fell for that one too? It was something he’d never considered before; being in love with two men at the same time, but it was something that he was very interested in exploring. What was Yoongi’s type too? Would it be someone else similar to Jungkook? Or totally opposite? His mind wandered through all the possibilities, making the day pass easily. 

Shortly before closing time, the front door opened. Jungkook glanced up from where he was sanitizing one of the game systems. His brows rose, disappearing into his shaggy hair when he saw none other than Jin standing in his doorway. 

“Good afternoon,” he said politely, bowing. “You looking for something specific? We have some open computers at the internet bar, and some other game systems. I just cleaned this one, so—”

“I’m looking for you,” Jin said bluntly. His jaw was set, giving him a stern look, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. “Can we chat?”

“Of course.” Jungkook nodded, heading behind the small counter that housed a few mini fridges worth of snacks and books filled with codes and game information. He tucked the sanitizing supplies on the bottom shelf and waved Taehyung over. “Keep an eye on the front for me, okay?”

Taehyung glanced at Jin before nodding to Jungkook. Jungkook motioned for Jin to follow him, unlocking a nondescript door that led into an “office” – really it was a gutted storage closet, but it worked to keep the fancy and important stuff out of sight of customers… And for private meetings. Jungkook leaned on the small desk. 

“What do you need to talk about?”

“When did you start dating Yoongi?”

Jungkook blinked. “Who said I was dating him?”

“I saw you two this afternoon. He kissed you.”

“He kissed my cheek,” Jungkook corrected. “And you’re a snoop.”

“The shop’s windows aren’t exactly hidden away. I was walking past and saw.”

Jungkook nodded. He sighed and went around, slumping into the folding chair he’d set up to sit in while dealing with bills and other business things. “Well, we aren’t dating. I assumed he was dating you… I saw you two awful cozy this morning.”

“Oh, now who’s the snoop?” Jin grumbled, leaning on the door. 

The two remained silent for a long time, staring each other down across the small space. Jungkook couldn’t help but notice how the fabric of Jin’s shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. Though it was a well fitted, button up shirt, it still seemed tight with his body. His belt was cinched around his waist, making his slender hips all the more obvious as well. Jungkook couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to hold onto those slender hips, or wrap his arms around the broad shoulder span. And the more he looked, the more he noticed Jin’s mouth and neck. The curve of his throat, ridged with muscle, his full, pink lips that looked just a little chapped – but still oh so soft. The gentle curve of his nose and the smooth, shiny glow to his skin. Despite working in a bakery all day, not a hair was out of place, bangs parted just so to show a broad, smooth forehead that was begging to be kissed.

It was Jungkook who broke first, laughing in the silent room. He shook his head. “This is so stupid,” he said through bursts of laughter. Jin tried to remain stoic but broke as well, laughing along with Jungkook. 

When their laughter faded, Jungkook shook his head, wiping his cheeks. “Look, I do like Yoongi. That’s no secret. And yeah, he did kiss my cheek – he was flirting. So, if you like him… I encourage you to tell him.”

“You just said he likes you.”

“And he likes you too. He told me today.” Jungkook hesitated. He didn’t want to say too much about what Yoongi told him; it wasn’t his place to tell. “You should talk to him. His answer might surprise you. But either way – we’ve been fighting over him for months, when in reality this is his choice. He deserves to know the truth so he can make that choice.”

Jin’s shoulders sagged just a little. He nodded. “I know you’re right. But I don’t want to make it harder for him if he has decided to date you.”

“I know you don’t, but you won’t know what he decides until you tell him. He’s a big boy – I’m sure he can handle it.”

Jin chuckled. “True… Thanks, Jungkook.” He turned to go, then turned back. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick these past few months.”

Jungkook grinned. “I’m not. It’s been fun. I’ve kinda enjoyed our pranking.”

“Is that so?” Jin smirked. “Well, maybe I won’t stop then.”

“I’ll be waiting.” 

Jin turned and walked out, leaving Jungkook to wrestle with far more internal questions than he had answers for. 

That night, Jungkook headed over to Deja Brew as soon as he closed things up. The lights were mostly off, save for a few near the back and behind the counter. Assuming it was locked, Jungkook knocked gently. He saw movement from the back, and Yoongi came rushing out. Even in the fading sunlight, Jungkook could see he looked a little flushed and surprised. He opened the door, smiling brightly. “You came.”

“Of course I did… You okay?” Jungkook could see his cheeks were mottled and his hair was a little mussed.

“Yes. But… I have to tell you something.”

Jungkook stepped into the café, letting Yoongi close and lock the door behind him. He shouldered his bag a little higher onto his shoulder. “What do you have to tell me?”

“There’s been… A bit of a development. That I didn’t expect… When I told you to come by.”

“Oh?”

“Evening, Jungkook.” The voice came from the back room, where Yoongi had rushed from. Jungkook looked over Yoongi’s shoulder, his eyes widening. Jin was leaning against the doorframe. He was wearing the same shirt as he had been when he met Jungkook, but now it was hanging open save for two bottom buttons, his firm, broad chest exposed. It was damp with sweat and flushed red, as was Jin’s face and ears. His hair was a little mussed and his mouth – if anyone could believe it – was just a little plumper. 

“Oh!” Jungkook backed up. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“Don’t go,” Yoongi whispered. 

“But you and Jin—”

“He came over,” Yoongi nodded. “But I want to talk to you still. I don’t want you to go, please.”

Jungkook nodded. He met Jin’s gaze, a little surprised to see a gentleness there. He’d won – he expected Jin to look smug. He followed Yoongi back into the back room, and Jin followed as well, leaning against a nearby wall.

“Jin came over earlier,” Yoongi began. “He said you encouraged him to.”

“I did. He came to me and I said it was only fair to you. To tell you how he felt and let you choose. I guess he did and… You did.”

“How do you mean?” Yoongi asked. 

“Well, you two…” Jungkook motioned to Jin’s open shirt. 

“Oh, yeah. We did. I mean, we are… But… I told you earlier today. How I felt,” Yoongi said. “You said… A lot. About how you’d feel about it. Was that true?”

“About the… More than one person thing?”

Yoongi nodded.

“Yeah, I meant it all. I wouldn’t mind. If I knew you cared and were happy, I’d try.”

“Well I told Jin too.”

“And I said the same thing,” Jin added. 

Jungkook smiled softly. “I’m glad. It’s good to find similarly minded people.”

“Jungkook,” Jin stepped forward. “You’re kinda dumb, aren’t you?”

Jungkook pouted. “No,” he mumbled. “I was just trying to be fair, I didn’t—”

“Jungkook, you and me and Yoongi all say the same thing. We’d be happy to try a relationship with more than one person.”

“Yeah, I got that…” Jungkook said, glancing between the two. 

“Right… And we both like Yoongi,” Jin continued. “And… Considering the way you were eye fucking me in the office earlier…”

Jungkook’s eyes bulged. He opened his mouth to argue, but Jin shook his head. “I know when someone is giving me that look. I would’ve told you to stop if I didn’t like it.”

“You…”

“Think you’re kinda… Annoying.” Jin laughed at Jungkook’s expression. “And really attractive. Plus you’re competitive and stubborn and loyal…”

“You didn’t lose anything, Jungkook,” Yoongi said. “If you don’t want to lose, that is. If you want… You can both have me.”

Jungkook’s eyes bulged. Comically, if the laughter of Yoongi and Jin meant anything. “You mean—I—I could be with you both?” Jungkook stumbled over his words, wanting to kick himself.

Yoongi nodded. “Why should I choose between you when you both want me and I… Want both of you. And since you’re both okay with sharing me, then… It only seems fair to do so.”

“I was simply getting started a little early,” Jin teased, pulling Yoongi back to him. He kissed him hard.

Jungkook wasn’t sure what to do. He’d just been given the okay – he could date Yoongi – and Jin. He stepped forward, setting his backpack on the ground. Cautiously, he reached out, touching Yoongi’s wrist. 

Jin broke the kiss. “Don’t be shy,” he murmured, nuzzling Yoongi’s neck even as he looked up at Jungkook. 

Jungkook took a deep breath. He stepped forward, pulling Yoongi to him and kissing him. The reality of what was happening seemed to hit him suddenly when their lips met. He grabbed his cheeks, holding him close even as Yoongi laughed into his mouth. Jungkook felt a warmth behind him and hands on his hips. Jin. 

“Can I share you too, Jungkook?” Jin whispered in his ear. Jungkook broke the kiss with Yoongi, looking over to meet Jin’s gaze. 

“I—I guess so.”

Jin smiled softly. He stepped to the side, wrapping one arm around Jungkook and pulling him into a deep, needy kiss. His mouth tasted of warm, sweet vanilla and a hint of spice, while Yoongi’s had tasted like coffee beans and chai. It was the perfect blend. 

Yoongi’s mouth landed on his neck, his hand sliding Jungkook’s front as he and Jin kissed. He felt hands on his jeans and gasped, breaking the kiss. He glanced down. Jin was undoing Jungkook’s jeans. 

“You can stop me,” Jin said softly. 

“And me,” Yoongi added.

“No,” Jungkook leaned back, sliding his hand up Yoongi’s neck and through his hair. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He reached forward, touching Jin’s bare chest before sliding lower, his fingers tracing the firm muscle of his abdomen. He undid the other two buttons of his shirt and pulled it open just as Jin opened his jeans. The slid down a little, and Yoongi helped, pushing them the rest of the way down to his ankles. Jungkook toed his sneakers off and kicked the jeans off. He let go of Jin’s chest to turn, grabbing Yoongi’s belt. “I’m not gonna be the only one with no pants,” he said.

Yoongi laughed. “I’ve already had my pants off. I put them on when you came in.”

“Oh, is that so?” Jungkook undid his belt and unzipped his jeans. “What were you two doing in here?” He looked back at Jin, who smirked.

“I was showing him just how… Versatile my food can be.”

“Is that so?”

Jin nodded. Jungkook pushed Yoongi’s jeans down and turned. “Well now I’m envious… Can I get a lesson in that diversity too?” He pouted.

Jin smirked. “I’m sure that can be arranged. He circled around the two and opened a small fridge under Yoongi’s desk. He pulled out a small cheesecake and a can of spray whipped cream. “Mind if I get some things from up front, Yoongi?” 

Yoongi shook his head no, busying himself kissing along Jungkook’s neck. “Bet this isn’t at all what you expected tonight,” he murmured.

“Not at all,” Jungkook leaned into his touch. “But I’m not complaining.”

He turned, pulling Yoongi’s shirt off over his head. He took a moment to stroke his hands over Yoongi’s soft skin, tweaking his nipples just a bit and giggling when Yoongi hissed. Yoongi moved forward, forcing Jungkook to walk backwards until his back hit the wall. He moaned openly, grabbing Yoongi’s hips. 

“Don’t come in your shorts now, I have some fun for you two,” Jin teased when he re-entered, holding a cup of coffee and a bowl of what looked like ice. He set them on the table next to the food and beckoned the two over.

“Yoongi… He smirked. He scraped a small chunk off the cheesecake and brought the fork toward Yoongi. Yoongi opened his mouth for it, but Jin moved the fork at the last second, smearing the cheesecake over Yoongi’s bare collarbone. He looked at Jungkook. “Go on.”

Jungkook grinned. He moved forward, gently licking and sucking the cheesecake from Yoongi’s collarbone. He let his teeth graze over the area, enjoying the squeeze of Yoongi’s hands on his waist. 

“Take your shirt off now,” Jin whispered when Jungkook had cleaned Yoongi’s skin, and left an array of delightful red marks in his wake. Jungkook obeyed, stripping his shirt off and tossing it to the side. Jin did the same, and stripped his jeans off as well, leaving all three in their boxers. Jin grabbed the can of whipped cream, looking between the two. “Who wants a treat?” 

“Yoongi,” Jungkook said. “I stole his cheesecake after all.”

Jin stepped forward and reached out, palming Jungkook through his boxers. Jungkook gasped, his eyelids fluttering shut. 

“Lets get these off then,” Jin whispered, pressing a kiss to Jungkook’s jaw. Yoongi stepped forward, sliding them down his hips. Jin made a low noise of appreciation when his cock sprang free. He shook the can once more. 

“It’ll be cold,” he warned before tipping it upside down. He pressed Jungkook’s cock down a little further so it was more parallel to the ground and sprayed a few lines of the creamy dessert whip over his shaft. 

Jungkook forced his eyes open as Yoongi sank to the ground, licking his lips. He grasped Jungkook’s cock gently behind the tip, careful not to disturb the whipped cream, and looked up at him. Slow and steady, he began to lap to Jungkook’s cock, catching the cream with his tongue. Each inch slipped into his mouth, hot and warm and slick, Jungkook gasped, reaching out for anything to brace himself. Jin caught him, holding his hips to keep him upright as Yoongi sucked his cock.

“That’s it, feels nice, doesn’t it?” Jin murmured in his ear, reaching up to pinch Jungkook’s nipples gently. Jungkook moaned, stroking his fingers through Yoongi’s hair. 

“Wanna repay the favor?” He asked softly when Yoongi had sucked all the cream from Jungkook’s cock.

Jungkook nodded. “But—What about you?” He asked, sliding his hand down to palm Jin’s cock. 

Jin smirked. “Oh, wanna see what I have too?” He teased. Jungkook nodded.

“Only fair,” Yoongi said as he stood. He slid his own boxers off and they turned to Jin, shedding the final article of clothing he wore as well. 

Jin handed Jungkook a piece of ice. “Put it in your mouth… And suck my cock,” he instructed. He took a mouthful of coffee and knelt in front of Yoongi. Glancing up, he winked. He grabbed Yoongi’s cock and gave it a few strokes before slowly sliding it past his closed lips. Yoongi groaned and jerked. A bit of the warm coffee dribbled out, down Jin’s chin and chest. He began to bob his head, and Jungkook could hear the slosh of the coffee in his mouth as he sucked Yoongi. 

Jungkook dropped to his hands and knees and placed the ice chip in his mouth. He grabbed Jin’s cock and gave it a few strokes, blowing first gently on it. Jin shuddered and grabbed the back of Jungkook’s neck, squeezing just enough to be known. Jungkook watched goosebumps appear on his thick thighs. He leaned down further and sucked Jin’s cock into his mouth. He flicked the slowly melting ice chip over and around it, using Jin’s grip on the back of his neck to guide what felt the best. Yoongi’s moans were filling the air, as well as the heavy breathing of all three and the wet noises of the two sucking. Jin pulled back and swallowed, gasping and moaning Jungkook’s name. Yoongi sank to the ground and grabbed another ice chip, tapping Jungkook on the shoulder. He moved back, allowing Yoongi to take over. 

Jungkook stood and grabbed a forkful of the cheesecake. He slowly streaked it down his belly and over his cock, leaving a little bite on the tip of his cock. Jin smirked, his mouth open already. Jungkook guided him to his cock, moaning when Jin took his tip into his mouth. He sucked hard, flicking his tongue over the top of the head to get the remnants of cheesecake. He moved up then, shifting as much as he could with his cock in Yoongi’s mouth, and licked and nibbled at Jungkook’s belly. Down, over his cock, firm licks and daring grazes of his teeth that had Jungkook tensing in preparation for pain – and moaning in disbelieving arousal when it didn’t come. He was dribbling precoma freely, and knew he wouldn’t last long.  Jin pulled back and moaned, tugging on Yoongi’s hair gently.

“Stop, stop—I’m gonna come,” he whined.

Yoongi pulled back, looking up at him. “Isn’t that the point?” He teased. 

Jin chuckled. “I suppose. But it wouldn’t be fair of you to hoard it to yourself, what if Jungkook wanted a taste?”

Jungkook smirked. “He could share with me after it’s already in his mouth, I suppose.”

Jin’s breathing caught, just a bit, and he nodded. “I suppose he could.” He and Yoongi rose and Jin grabbed a small bowl from the fridge. “My homemade frosting,” he explained when Jungkook twitched his head at it. He uncovered the bowl and took a spoon, stirring it. “Yoongi. Come here.” 

When Yoongi approached, he slathered the frosting over the length of Yoongi’s thick cock, adding a playful swirl to the dollop at the tip. He looked to Jungkook. “He’s the only one you’ve not tasted yet. Go for it.”

Jungkook sank down and took him into his mouth quickly, moaning around his length. The rich, sweet vanilla cream blended perfectly with Yoongi’s salty precome, dribbling in and teasing him with the promise of more. Jungkook bobbed his head quickly, eager to swallow down both the frosting and Yoongi’s unique taste. Yoongi held back no sounds, tugging softly at Jungkook’s hair as he moaned happily. 

Jin dropped down next to Jungkook, shifting to suck and lick at the part of Yoongi’s cock not in Jungkook’s mouth. They switched, taking turns lavishing attention over Yoongi’s cock. Their mouths often met in wet kisses, his cock slotted between their lips. He whined, his hips bucking. 

“Please—” He panted. “It’s okay, you can come,” Jin purred, swallowing his cock down. He backed up, letting Jungkook do the same. They kept at it until Yoongi’s cock began to throb. As it did, Jungkook pulled back, holding it towards them and stroking quickly. The ropes of come erupted from his cock, hitting both on the cheeks and open mouths. Jungkook whined softly, feeling a rope shoot over his tongue. As his orgasm faded, Jin grabbed Jungkook’s face, kissing him hard. They cleaned Yoongi’s release from one another with kisses, sharing the salty treat between them. 

Yoongi sank down, his legs shaking visibly. He grabbed for Jungkook and Jin’s cocks, stroking one in each hand as they made out. Jungkook pulled back in time to see Yoongi leaning forward, swallowing Jin’s cock down as he stroked Jungkook’s. He switched after a few moments, wrapping his perfect lips around Jungkook’s cock and stroking Jin’s. 

“God, I’m already close,” Jungkook whined, holding onto Jin as Yoongi bobbed his head along his shaft. 

“Come in his mouth,” Jin murmured. “You can see how much he wants it.”

Yoongi whined in agreement, his breath hot around Jungkook’s cock. He began to bob his head a little faster, reaching up to play with Jungkook’s balls as he did. 

“That’s it,” Jin praised, stroking the back of Yoongi’s neck. Jungkook let his head fall onto Jin’s shoulder, his fingers biting into his side as Yoongi’s mouth dragged him closer to orgasm. He grunted, biting his lip. Jin slid his hand down, squeezing Jungkook’s ass. He brushed his finger teasingly over Jungkook’s hole, smirking when he jumped. 

“Sensitive,” teased.

Jungkook moaned, pushing his hips forward, pumping into Yoongi’s mouth, and back toward Jin’s hand. The hand disappeared from his ass for a moment. He heard Jin spit and it was back, one finger slipping into his hole. Jungkook shouted in surprise. His hips jerked forward and back, gagging Yoongi.

“Sorry,” he panted, laughing breathlessly as Jin began to finger him. Yoongi gave a thumbs up, shifting to adjust his movements. 

Jin found Jungkook’s prostate easily and began to rub and press it, murmuring soft praises in his ear. 

Jungkook whimpered. He tugged Yoongi’s hair gently. “I can’t hold back,” he gasped in warning. Yoongi nodded as well as he could and pulled back, focusing his oral work on Jungkook’s tip. He rubbed and pressed his balls gently at the same time Jin pushed a second finger up his ass, scissoring them and rubbing against his spot. Jungkook swore, his legs beginning to shake. His cock jerked as his orgasm hit, spilling ropes of come into Yoongi’s mouth. 

Jin slowed his fingers but kept them buried inside Jungkook, rubbing just enough to keep a low level orgasmic buzz running through Jungkook as he milked him dry. 

Yoongi rose, his mouth open to show the come in it. He winked at Jungkook before pulling Jin into a deep kiss. Jungkook struggled to stay upright, watching them share his come.

When Yoongi pulled away, Jin withdrew his fingers momentarily.

“Can I keep fingering you while I come?” He asked. 

Jungkook smirked tiredly. “Of course.” He bent over the desk, wiggling his ass playfully. 

“Wanna finger mine too?” Yoongi teased.

“Well, I’d like to do more than that,” Jin murmured, kissing Yoongi once more. “But I’ll settle for rubbing off on it… If you’ll let me.” 

Yoongi immediately bent over the desk next to Jungkook, kissing him softly. Jin added more spit to Jungkook’s hole, going back to fingering him lazily. Jungkook whined, his soft cock still dribbling weak ropes of come at the right pressure on his spot. He glanced over, watching Jin spit on his other hand to slick his cock. He slid it up, along Yoongi’s perky ass, and moaned, immediately beginning to hump against it. 

After a while, Jin pulled his fingers free from Jungkook’s hole and squeezed Yoongi’s ass, swearing softly. 

“Spread it,” he panted. Yoongi obeyed, spreading his ass open for Jin. 

Jin spat against his hole, and Jungkook watched him slide a finger in gently. Yoongi moaned, deep in his chest as he did. Jin removed his finger and lined his cock up, poking the tip gently against Yoongi’s tight hole. He paused, jerking his cock quickly. 

He moved over to Jungkook, squeezing his ass. 

“Spread,” he panted. Jungkook obeyed, blushing darkly when he heard Jin spit and felt a glob land on his hole. Jin went immediately with his cock, spreading it with the tip and nudging Jungkook’s hole. Slightly more relaxed from the earlier fingering, Jungkook felt his hole give a little, and he moaned.

“Goddamnit,” Jin panted. Jungkook could hear him stroking his cock, the nudges against his hole becoming more persistent. “I wish I could fuck you both,” he grunted.

“Next time I’ll have lube,” Yoongi murmured. “I’d particularly like to see you take Jungkook and pound him against the wall… Looks like you make such pretty sounds with a cock up your ass, Jungkook.”

Jungkook laughed breathlessly, moaning softly. “I think I do… I love begging for it,” he admitted.

Both Jin and Yoongi made appreciative noises. 

“I’d like to fuck him after,” Yoongi continued. “Lay him on his his belly right over there… And fuck him after you gape his ass. You could fuck me while I was doing it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jin swore. He moved between them and grabbed the plate of cheesecake, setting it on the table. With a soft groan and a series of rhythmic grunts, Jin came, thick ropes spilling from his cock over the dessert. 

Jungkook met Yoongi’s gaze and smirked, understanding the intention. They both grabbed forks and began to cut into the cake, feeding one another the come covered bites over Jin’s cock. He moaned softly, seeming to shudder and relax as they ate. Jungkook scooped up the last bite and stood straight, holding it out for Jin, he took it gladly, meeting Jungkook’s gaze as he chewed and swallowed. He leaned forward, kissing Yoongi and then Jungkook. Jungkook returned the kiss, pulling back to kiss Yoongi as well. 

The three redressed and cleaned up the office in relative silence, each seeming to be going over what had happened.

“So… That was… Admittedly a little unexpected,” Yoongi said finally, settling into his chair behind the desk. Jin, for all his gusto, looked a little shy, and Jungkook was worried. 

“Was it too much?” Jungkook asked. 

“I don’t think so. Not for me, at least… What about you two?” 

“I liked it,” Jin said. “I had fun and it was a good way to… Try out this dynamic, of all three of us. I’ve never… I’ve never dated more than one person at a time, but I like Jungkook, and I want to try it. And I know it’s where you feel comfortable. So for me, it was nice to sort of… See where we all stood and get close in a new way.”

Jungkook nodded. “I agree. I had said earlier today that I’d be fine with my partner dating someone else, and I kept thinking about that during the day. My mind did wander to Jin a few times, I won’t lie. I think he’s the best match for both of us. He and I have always had our…”

“Rivalry,” Jin filled in, laughing a little, and Jungkook nodded.

“Yes, rivalry. That I have enjoyed. And I obviously care a lot for you, Yoongi… I’m happy with tonight and… I hope we can move forward as a … Well, not really a couple, are we?”

Yoongi laughed. “Not exactly. There’s a lot of words that people have come up with for folks in our dynamic, we can figure it out later. For now I’m content just knowing that there’s no regrets. And that we all want to move forward into… Dating.”

Jungkook and Jin both nodded eagerly. 

“How will dating work?” Jungkook asked. “Do the three of us go together? Two at a time? I mean… Since Jin and I, I figured… You are okay with… Wanting to date me too?”

“I’d like to try it,” Jin said, nodding in agreement.

“I’ve never actually had this kind of relationship,” Yoongi admitted, “despite wanting it for so long. I think we’ll have to sit down together and really hash out what each of us need in a relationship, and how the other two can best provide it. I do know that for this sort of thing… We need to be open with each other.”

Yoongi rose as he spoke, going over to Jin and Jungkook. He took each of their hands in his own. “Communicating is the only way this can work, okay? No more secrets, no more unspoken words and passive aggressive pranking.”

Thy all shared a chuckle at that. Jungkook shook his head. “I think pranking has really become Jin and I’s love language… You’re not gonna stop the pranks, Yoongi.”

Yoongi sighed dramatically, grinning. “And here I was hoping I’d get to avoid Jin shouting at seven in the morning when you’ve stolen his mixer yet again.”

Jungkook grinned brightly as Jin laughed. 

“Look, that was a good prank!” Jungkook defended.

“Yeah, only because I returned it shutting down your fuse box the next day.”

Jungkook glared, but grinned as he was doing it. “We’ll keep you out of the pranks,” he promised, looking back to Yoongi.

“I don’t mind. Just don’t prank me.”

“It’s late,” Jin said. “Why don’t we all have a light dinner together tomorrow after closing? We can meet here, I’ll bring some stuff from the bakery too, and we can have some of the leftover sandwiches from your café. We can all sit together and really talk about what we need and what we’d like from this sort of relationship.”

Jungkook and Yoongi nodded. “I like that idea. I’d like to think more about it anyways,” Jungkook admitted. “I know I want this, but I’ve not been in a lot of relationships, so… When someone asks me what I want from even a traditional two person… I don’t think I could answer. I need to really think and figure it out.”

“I feel like that’s a fair assessment,” Yoongi said. “I’m in a similar boat. The idea that you’re both… Mine… It’s a lot. I’m happy. I’m just overwhelmed.”

“You never thought you could have this,” Jin said. Yoongi nodded.

“Well you do,” Jungkook stepped forward and hugged Yoongi tightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And we might have to figure out the fine-tuning stuff, but you have us. It’s not a dream.”

Yoongi hugged him back, nuzzling his neck. “Thank you.”

“We care a lot about you, Yoongi. No matter what. I think I can speak for Jungkook too when I say that this is a good move for us all. We’re happy, and we’ll be happy like this,” Jin said. He wrapped his arms around them both, enveloping them in a tight hug. 

They separated after a moment and Jungkook grabbed his bag. “Come on, we should get going. Do you have any last-minute things to do?”

“No, I’m all closed up here, just have to shut off lights.” Yoongi headed to the back of the office and grabbed his jacket, flicking off the lights and basking them in darkness.

The trio walked to the doors and stepped out into the cool night air, letting Yoongi lock his door. They stood for a moment, all looking at one another in the streetlights. “Well, I go this way,” Jungkook said, jutting his finger in the direction of his bus stop. 

“I’m that way too,” Yoongi said. 

“I go the other way,” Jin said. He glanced around then stepped forward and kissed Yoongi long and hard. Jungkook chuckled a little at it. It was cute, if he was being honest. Jin glared playfully at him. “What’re you laughing at, punk?” He joked. He grabbed Jungkook’s shirt and pulled him into a kiss as well. 

He stood straight and fixed his shirt. “I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

“Get home safely,” Yoongi said. They watched Jin walk down the street before turning and walking up it. 

“How far up do you go?” Yoongi asked. 

“My bus stop is about two blocks away.”

“Do you live very far?”

Jungkook shook his head no. “Only a few miles. Just a little too far to walk or ride a bike in, so I have to do the bus.”

Yoongi nodded. “I only live about half a mile up, so I usually walk it. Do you have a car, for the winter?”

“No, but the bus stop is right outside my apartment so it’s not so bad. The city keeps these streets shoveled well.”

“Hm… Well, we’ll see when winter comes. I have a car, I just don’t bother using it except winter with how close I live. I wonder how far down Jin lives.” He glanced back. 

“We can ask him tomorrow.” 

They reached Jungkook’s bus stop. Yoongi sighed softly. “I wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

“The conversation we had this afternoon gave me so much joy and confidence… Just hearing someone support me and give me hope that I could be truly happy… And then I know you sent Jin to me. Even though you knew it might mean losing me if I didn’t want you as a third, I… Your care means so much.”

Jungkook smiled softly. “I fell for you the minute I saw you, Yoongi. I want you to be happy, no matter what. And getting to be with you… And with Jin… It’s perfect. For as much as he and I argue, he’s an amazing man.”

“He is… And so are you.” Yoongi took Jungkook’s hands and squeezed gently. “I’m so happy that this happened.”

Jungkook grinned, his heart skipping a beat. He leaned forward and kissed Yoongi gently. “My bus will be here soon,” he said, not stepping away from Yoongi. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you.” Yoongi kissed him once more before letting his hands go and heading down the street. 

Jungkook sighed heavily, a grin on his face as he did. Though he’d been hoping for a good result from finally confronting his feelings, this was a better one that he’d ever imagined. He knew that their future would be a sweet as the coffee and pastries his new boyfriends created.

[zaffrenotes]

[TRR: WD106] Avoiding A Blunder

Summary: Prince Liam has to fill in for Crown Prince Leo, and Murphy’s Law is put into motion at the end of his trip. Chaos ensues, condensed Wacky Drabble style. Fic Rating/Warning: M; alcohol consumption, minor health/medical emergency, anxiety/angst Author’s Note: All main characters belong to Pixelberry/The Royal Romance, I’m just borrowing them * Fictional versions of IRL individuals are included with affection; any other characters mentioned in this piece are my creation * This is my submission for @wackydrabbles Prompt 106: You’re gonna get us busted! * You have @the-soot-sprite and @ao719 to thank for this ridiculousness, lol - Soot reblogged a photo, Betsy sent me this request

and...this is what my brain came up with (PS - thank you both for the movie discussion) * For the purposes of this story, Triydalia is a fictional country that shares a border with Thailand * Word Count: 1999 😅 (7 minutes reading time)

Taglist (if your name is crossed out, I'll tag you in the comments): @/ao719 @burnsoslow @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @ofpixelsandscribbles @rainbowsinthestorm @superharriet @/the-soot-sprite @choiceskatie @jaqren @aestheticartsx @bbrandy2002 @dcbbw @gnatbrain @jared2612 @kingliam2019 @ladyangel70 @lovingchoices14 @nestledonthaveone @princessleac1 @queenjilian @sfb123 @texaskitten30 @theroyalheirshadowhunter @yourmajesty09

Liam was used to filling in for Leo at a moment’s notice; participating in conference calls with ambassadors for early morning updates when Leo overslept, and attending meetings with ministers when Leo went AWOL. He’d grown accustomed to his brother’s antics, but he wondered how Bastien managed to keep his position, when he’d lost track of Leo’s whereabouts countless times.

While Leo spent more time avoiding his duties as Crown Prince of Cordonia, Liam dutifully took on the extra responsibilities in stride. It often meant partitioning his already packed schedule to sit in on vital cabinet meetings or dining with visiting dignitaries, but sometimes Leo’s vanishing acts gave Liam the opportunity to travel.

Though their ambassadors handled the majority of day-to-day relations with other countries for trade, Constantine preferred to meet face-to-face when he could. One such time, a lingering cough turned to walking pneumonia, restricting Constantine to as much bed rest as possible. It also meant sending Leo to Japan for a meeting with the Prime Minister in his stead.

It would have been fine, if Leo hadn’t pulled another one of his disappearing acts.

--

A week later, Liam was seated on the royal jet on his way back from Tokyo, navy attache with espresso brown leather trim in the chair next to him. Across from him, Maxwell chatted with Anya over various Thai dishes. On the other side of the plane, Drake was in a heated discussion with leggy blonde Anitah while the ladies’ petite friend Donna observed in silence, fighting back a grin. “You’re an imbecile if that’s your opinion,” Anitah declared, raising her hands up in the air. “Are you sure that’s the hill you wanna die on?”

Drake smugly sipped from the crystal tumbler in his hand. “I’m right and you know it.”

“What are you two talking about?” Liam asked, relieved to think about anything other than what was in the bag and why it was so important he hand deliver it to his father.

“Fight Club being a better cinematic masterpiece than The Princess Bride,” Drake replied. “You guys agree, right? If you could only watch one movie for the rest of your life, you’d want to watch Tyler Durden fight the system instead of some…” he paused to sneer at Anitah, who crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue at him, “...story about a swashbuckler rescuing a princess? She’s not even a real princess!”

“Fight Club is such a guy movie though,” Anya argued, turning in her seat to face Drake. “Princess Bride appeals to men and women, with a much larger audience.”

“Okay, that’s two for Buttercup,” Drake sighed. “Maxwell? Li?” He looked at his friends expectantly.

“Fight Club, definitely,” Maxwell said, nodding his head. He’d spent the better part of the trip doing everything to get into Drake’s good graces after the octopus incident on the first night in Tokyo.

Before Liam could respond, a commotion from the front of the plane made everyone’s heads turn, where a pair of Kings Guards and two flight attendants were seated near the galley. One of the guards slipped into the cockpit, rushing out a moment later in Liam’s direction, as the jet slowly tilted to the right. “Apologies, Your Highness. Do you or any of your guests happen to speak Triydalian?”

Anya slowly raised her hand. “I knew a bit when I was a kid, but I haven’t used it in years.”

The guard motioned for her to join him. “Please come with us, miss. The pilots need a translator.”

“Is everything alright, Remy?” Liam peered past the guard, eyes widening at the sight of the other guard and one attendant hovering in front of the other attendant in a chair.

“We need to land the plane, Sir,” Remy answered, ushering Anya up from her seat. “Ramona passed out. She’s breathing but unresponsive.”

--

Twenty minutes later and after a jarring landing, they’d arrived at a small airport in the Republic of Triydalia, at the edge of one of the country’s many jungle forests. Calling it an airport was generous - it was more of a cleared dirt path in the middle of the jungle with a shack for an airport tower, and a man that looked like more of a hunter than an air traffic controller. After a choppy conversation that required pantomiming and hand signals, Anya left with Remy and the man from the tower to fetch a tribal doctor, while Anitah and Donna assisted the other member of the cabin crew to look after Ramona. They were warned to remain as quiet as possible and to stay inside the jet.

Minutes passed by in tense observation; Anitah and Drake continued their debate in low whispers, growing louder as they defended their choices. Liam could see the pilots discussing something pointedly as they checked readings on the instrument panel and worked on calculations. One of them stepped out, claiming that he needed to stretch his legs, and walked cautiously down the runway. When he returned, the other pilot joined him outside, despite the original warning to stay inside. Liam peered out the windows and checked his watch, worrying about Anya and Remy, along with his father’s instructions to avoid delaying their return.

While the remaining guard headed towards the back of the plane to pace back and forth for the eighth time, Liam took it upon himself to speak with the pilots. The air was thick and stifling the moment he stepped outside. Around them, there was nothing but green, green, and more green from the wilderness that surrounded them, abuzz with tropical birds and insects. At his side he carried the blue attache, remembering the promise to his father that the bag wouldn’t leave his sight. He spoke in a hushed tone when he approached the pilots. “You’re doing more than just stretching your legs, aren’t you, Captain?”

Both men grimaced slightly. “Yes, Your Highness. Even if we pulled back to one end of the runway, we’re still at least five hundred feet short of clearing takeoff.”

“What if we worked to try and clear the brush on either end?” Liam offered, looking off into the distance.

“There’s no way to clear out the trees, even the young ones,” the co-captain answered. “We might be able to take off if we could drop some weight, but the larger concern is the longer we wait, we increase the risk of encountering someone who doesn’t want us here.”

Liam nodded gravely; months of civil unrest in Triydalia meant rebel groups assembled faster than the government could contain them. There was no guarantee of anyone’s safety, stranded on a remote runway. There was no telling what was wrong with Ramona while she was unconscious, and therefore no way to treat her without the aid of a doctor. Ensuring the safety of the crew and his friends could have been avoided altogether if Leo didn’t constantly opt out of handling the duties of his station. In that moment, Liam abhorred the never-ending list of responsibilities thrust at him as a result of having to pick up the slack for his brother, knowing if their roles were reversed, Leo would manage to find a way to leave Liam to solve problems on his own.

“Could you excuse me for a moment?”

He’d barely finished asking the question before walking into the tall grass by the edge of the runway. Ignoring the pilots’ calls to return, Liam sprinted into the dense greenery, dodging between vines and scanning the ground for tripwires until he could no longer see the plane over his shoulder. When he finally stopped running, he bent over, hands on his knees as he gulped in air. Liam looked down at the blue bag in his hand, wondering what on earth was so precious to reduce him to a courier.

Shaking the bag did nothing; it felt practically empty, though he could tell something was inside. He couldn’t open the bag to check, since Prime Minister Abe and his father were the only ones with keys, and PM Abe handed him the sealed bag when they parted ways. Liam wanted to throw the infernal “murse” the ladies had good-naturedly teased him for into the bushes. Perspiration dotted his hairline, and he let out a primal scream, before taking slow, deep breaths to quiet the worrisome thoughts racing in his head and bring his heartbeat down to normal.

Cursed courier bag in his right hand, Liam braced his arm against his torso, pinning it in place with his elbow when he bent his other arm up towards his face. Curling his fingers into a relaxed fist, he pressed his lips against his thumb, thick brows furrowing in thought. All around him, wild birds called to one another amidst the chittering clamor of insects hidden in the foliage. He was so busy running through scenarios in his head that he didn’t hear the quiet click of a camera, turning to look up only when he heard a branch snap in the distance.

“Watch it! You’re gonna get us busted!” Donna hissed to Drake. She pocketed her phone, elbowing Drake in the ribs as they crouched behind large leaves. She ticked her head in Liam’s direction. “Go get your boy, none of us are safe out here.”

After some coaxing, Liam headed back to the plane with Donna and Drake, walking briskly through the jungle, eyes trained to look for anything out of the ordinary. Liam was alarmed when he heard and then saw the engines running, until Drake explained the pilots were burning off fuel to lighten the plane. They’d begun to walk up the steps, when Maxwell popped out above them. “Whoo!” Maxwell exclaimed, digging for another snack from the container he cradled in his arm. “Feels like a sauna out here!”

“Lower your voice, Maxwell! Please!” Liam seethed. His features pinched together in disbelief. “Are you...eating? Now?”

“You know I stress snack,” Maxwell replied, shrugging his shoulders. He shoved another cookie into his mouth.

Liam’s eyes lit up and he took the stairs two by two, knocking on the cockpit door before swinging it open. “What if we unloaded whatever’s not bolted down? The decor, dinnerware, the food and drink?”

“That...would certainly help,” the captain replied, looking back over his shoulder. He turned to his co-pilot. “It could be enough to get in the air after burning off the excess fuel.”

“You heard the man, Maxwell,” Liam said, offering his friend a nervous grin. “Get Drake to help you start unloading the plane. Has Ramona’s status changed?”

“Donna found the first aid kit just before she took off with Drake to go after you. Anitah found some smelling salts that gave her a rude wakeup call. Turns out her insulin pump shorted and she just needed some juice.”

Several more minutes passed as the group removed whatever they could from the plane, leaving piles of cookware, food, throw pillows, and even seat cushions to lighten the load. Drake whined when they gathered up the liquor, but he stuffed a bottle of whiskey in a cabinet by his seat. They’d nearly finished when Anya and Remy returned, running on foot. “That thing better be ready to take off!” Anya hollered, motioning for everyone to board. “Rebels on our tail! Time to go!”

Everyone scrambled back onto the plane; Liam relayed the urgency to depart to the pilots, who rapidly went through their flight checklist. Remy pulled Anya up onto the steps and they all clamored to buckle into their seats, the sound of gunfire in the air as the jet rolled forward and lurched up into the air, barely clearing the canopy.

Adrenaline pumping and breaths shallow, Liam looked around at his friends and the crew, thankful they were safely in the air again.

--

Liam thought he was having a stroke at twenty-four when he saw the contents of the bag. Constantine smiled with glee at the small gold cat, one paw raised.

[wrenhyperfixates]

Need You Here

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Loki lost you in the snap and now knows he must tell you how he feels. Unfortunately, the battle raging around you wants to stop him from doing just that. Warnings: mentions of battle/violence but not descriptive at all A/N: Here you go nonny! I ended up making this a little bit of an Infinity War/Endgame AU where Loki lives through the snap and the reader died. Hope you all enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02​ @frostedgiant​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​ @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​ @mythicalgarlicknot​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

The last five years for Loki had been agony without you. He’d promised you he’d be back, that he’d see you again. But the mission failed and Thanos won. Even after the Avengers had taken their revenge, there was no way to bring back those that had been lost. Until Tony figured out time travel, that is. Now they’d reversed the snap, and everyone who had disappeared came back.

Loki frantically searched among the rapidly increasing number of heroes, searching for your face among the masses. Maybe he’d missed you, maybe you’d come out of one of the portals after he’d already passed it. He began nervously running his fingers through his hair. If he didn’t find you before the battle resumed, he may never see you again at all. He couldn’t lose you again.

“Loki?” your voice suddenly called out from right behind him. “Loki, is that you?”

He whirled around and saw you. Suddenly, it was like everything in the world made sense again. He cupped your cheeks, your hands coming to rest on his. He relished in the feel of your cool skin. It reminded him of why he was first drawn to you; your ice powers never ceased to amaze him. He had abhorred the cold because of his heritage until he met you. You showed him how it could be beautiful in tandem with its deadly aspects. And he believed you.

“Darling, there is so much I need to say and so little time,” Loki said. “But I can’t let you go again. Not if you do not know.”

You moved your hands to hold his face, your position a mirror of his. You brought your lips to his, kissing him wildly and desperately, trying to say all the things there wasn’t time to verbalize. He responded with his movements, pulling you even closer and deepening the kiss. But all too soon, you had to battle with Thanos and his surprise army.

“Darling,” Loki said.

“I know, Loki. I know.”

He didn’t have time to say anything else before you were surging forward, hand in hand. Loki split his attention between the fierce battle and keeping an eye on you. Even though you said you knew, he had to say the words. He had to make sure.

Unfortunately for Loki, the fight seemed to determine to pull the two of you away from each other. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stay at your side. He screamed out your name when he lost sight of you, afraid some terrible tragedy had befallen you, and you were injured. Or worse.

“I’m right here,” you assured, sliding over on some ice you created, a slight panic in your voice. “Did something happen? Are you ok?”

“I am, darling,” Loki confirmed, moving closer to you. “I could not find you, and I worried you were harmed.”

“I’m ok,” you promised. “But as much as I want us to be able to face this together, we’re going to have to split up. We can’t keep dividing our attention, or one of us is going to get hurt.”

“I know, sweet darling. I know. Promise me you’ll keep yourself safe.”

“I do. You too?”

“Of course.”

“Then we’ll be together again soon, Lo,” you said, using the nickname only you could. “So soon.”

He let you go then, watching as you raced off to help those closest to Thanos and the gauntlet. Loki kept battling his way toward the front, too. The mad titan had taken you away. Killed you before Loki could tell you how much he loved you. In Loki’s opinion, there was no punishment quite befitting the crime, nothing brutal enough to make up for hurting you. But he’d settle for beheading the villain.

Loki was so close to being back to you when suddenly you rushed forward again. He saw where you were heading; a particularly large blast was heading for Tony, who was facing off with Thanos. It was obvious you intended to put yourself in the line of fire. The god began fighting wildly, screaming your name. He couldn’t let you be hurt, he wouldn’t. That was the only thought racing through his mind as he slashed furiously with his daggers.

“No!” he shouted as the blast was fired.

You responded with a burst of your icy powers, the two energies meeting in mid-air and blowing you back, your limp body landing roughly on the ground. But your mission was a success, Tony was alright and very close to winning against Thanos. Using his own magic to clear a path, Loki hurried over to you, cradling your body.

“No. Not again. Darling? You promised you’d be alright. You promised. You have to be alright,” he desperately cried. “I love you.”

Your eyes slowly cracked open and looked into his brilliant blue-green ones. “I love you too, Loki. I love you so much.”

It seemed surreal for a moment that you were alive and saying those words. Loki said a silent prayer of thanks to the Norns. He gently caressed the side of your face, afraid to do anymore and hurt you.

“Loki?” you said, shaking off the effects of your landing.

“Yes, darling?” he eagerly replied, ignoring the battle still raging around you. “I am here. Anything you need, I am here.” “Are you going to kiss me or what?” you cheekily grinned.

Lighting up like a bulb, he happily obliged, kissing you like his life depended on it. In some ways, he was pretty sure it did. Sure, he’d survived without you, but that was only by living on the hope he’d see you again.

By the time you broke apart, Thanos and his army were disappearing, Tony having snapped them out of existence. Loki helped you stand as the two of you looked around the battlefield. It was somehow bleak and hopeful at the same time. Taking the other’s hand, you and Loki made ready to face whatever came next in life, finally back together again.

[100sunny]

Hello everyone who reads tmawh and has a tumblr! Here’s a tumblr exclusive one shot for all of you!

It’s under the read more!

Richard Abhorred was a very simple man.

He was ambiguously in his twenties, he lived in his parents basement, he had no job, he was a member of a teenager’s gang and said gang dared him into changing his last name, it was worth it for that piece of grape flavored gum. Very average and normal things really.

Yawning he reached for his phone that was currently ringing, his old mattress squealing as he shifted around. Squinting against the light of his screen he answered.

“Hello?”

“Dick we have a job for you! It’s urgent.”

Richard groaned, of course it was the gang leader calling him this early in the morning. He’s still not quite sure how he ended up under the command of a seventeen year old but he was in too deep to stop now.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” He gritted out into the phone, he hopes that his voice alone would be enough to strangle the teen.

“No. Anyways we need you to teach some punk a lesson! If you catch my drift.”

Richard absolutely knew what the teen was talking about, he’s already done this many times before to others who have gained the leader’s ire. It was always risky but he wouldn’t lie, the adrenaline rush was amazing.

“Yeah yeah, what did they do?”

“He got in the way of that huge gig we were planning for weeks! The little freak embarrassed us all with his weird red and black hands, we can’t let that slide!”

Huh.

“Red and black hands?” He asked as he navigated his disaster of a room and got ready to go out. Passing by the gum wall he scrapped off one of the chewed up wads and popped it into his mouth. Mm grape, it was the one he got from the dare.

“Yeah! It was crazy, he just had these things popping out of him like some monster or something… But anyways here’s the details.”

Richard chalked it up as a hallucination, maybe the leader refused to believe they all got beat by normal means. Resting his phone on his shoulder, he grabbed a stiff pair of gray socks and slipped them on before cramming his feet into his shoes. They used to be white, Richard thinks.

“He’s really short and he has black hair, he also has a eyepatch and I’m not sure if he’ll be wearing the same thing but he was wearing shorts with a button up under a sweater vest, you got that?”

“Roger.” Richard quipped as he climbed the stairs up to the main part of the house.

“Great, call me when it’s done.” And with that he hanged up.

He sighed as he entered the kitchen and saw his parents, his younger sister and their younger brother sitting around the table. His parents were talking happily with his sister who had come to stay with them during the days leading up to her wedding, it was annoying.

“I’m borrowing the car again mom.” He stated while snatching up the keys and heading for the door.

“Alright sweetheart! Remember that your sister’s wedding is tomorrow so you can’t borrow the car then!” His mom waved him off while his younger brother looked up from his handheld game and narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.

Ah right, once he got called to do a job while he was picking him up from school so his brother had had a front row seat to him running over some guy. Now the little guy refused to talk to him which in his opinion was a little too dramatic. He had even taken him to McDonald’s and bought him a happy meal right after it had happened! Yet he still refused to talk to him, the ungrateful little brat.

Leaving the house without another word he made a beeline for his mom’s busted up car and instantly started circling around the city, keeping his eyes peeled for the guy he was described.

He kept at it for several hours but no luck. Guess he’ll try again tomorrow.

—————————————-

Quietly sneaking out of the house early in the morning while everyone was still asleep, Richard slipped out to continue his search. Only two hours in, his phone started ringing continuously, glancing at it he saw that the id tag revealed his sister’s name. Ah right the wedding

Well no chance he was quitting yet.

He continued his search while ignoring the ringing of his phone, various family members were calling him over and over again, it was annoying.

And then he was granted good fortune.

Because walking along the sidewalk he saw someone that fit the description he’d gotten. Yes!

He immediately stepped on the gas and the kid whipped around, a look of fear etched on his face and yep now he was 100% that that was his target. But of course things never went his way because one of the people with the kid just had to play hero and take the hit instead. Stepping out of the car for a moment he saw the guy bounce across the road a pretty impressive distance.

He winced, wow that wasn’t a pretty sight before fear gripped him and he rushed back into the car.

“Oh no the leader is going to kill me for getting the wrong guy,” He muttered to himself as he drove away quickly. He unstuck a wad from the dashboard and hurriedly began chewing on it, it was a nice form of stress relief.

The sound of his phone ringing cut through the silence and he finally picked it up.

“WHERE WERE YOU?! WHAT WAS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU SKIPPED MY WEDDING?! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?!” His sisters screaming sobs tore through the phone and he gulped.

Yep, he was a dead man for sure.

[dylanxmin]

painkiller ∣ 3 ∣ J.HS

breakups are habitual, ordinary maybe even easy for some other people, and maybe it could be easy for you, too, if you haven’t been dumped by your boyfriend after finding out that you were pregnant. no, it wasn’t easy even a bit. and a stranger who wants to be your side doesn’t make this all easy for you, at all.

pairing; jung hoseok x reader

genre; angst, fluff, humor, pregnancy au, strangers to lovers au, single!mom au, slice of life au,,

warnings; angst, swearings, mention of sexual intercourse, bratty taetae, bratty jimin bc why not:), y/n doesn’t like kids?, sorry but unedited:( 

word count; 11k+

rating; nc17

a/n; e-yooo? yeah, i take a long, loong break even without wanting it. but can I blame my life and all the thing I tried to handle? (and clearly failing lol),, well, i wasn’t suppose to post this episode now, but I pushed myself and tried to give it a chance and luckily, I finished this episode!! yey!! sorry for being the worst writer ever on this site, but pls don’t hate me, lol. sooo maybe feedbacks?,, love y’all, thanks for reading it!! ♡

previous➭ ˚masterlist˚ ➭ next

taglist; @xxluckydreamsxx​ ,, @parkminhee​

∣ send me an ask if you want to be on the tag list ∣

Jung Hoseok is the man of hope. He and everybody knows it. But are they okay with this? Maybe most of his friends and family members were okay with this but among them, Kim Seokjin didn't like how he always tried to be helpful and all. He wouldn't have any problems with Hoseok being like that unless he wasn't all over you. Hoseok never admits it, but he knows it. Unfortunately, he knew him well enough to understand how he feels from scanning his acts and looks around you. And Seokjin will do the best thing by opening the topic of you in front of his other friends because then, he would have nowhere to hide. 

''Well, I don't know that but I'm saying this. That woman hates me.'' Jungkook let out a big sigh, the sight of the red-haired middle-aged teacher scaring the hell out of him, sending shivers to his neck. He wasn't the smartest one to figure out things easily, but he knew it. Maybe the way she sizes him up bleakly, or the way her mouth crinkles in disgust. Or maybe even the way she calls his name like she was spitting. Jungkook was sure, his teacher was hating him. ''I'll never graduate because of her...'' 

''Okay, first of all, stop being all gloomy about this and think.'' Jimin snaps his fingers before continuing to talk, ''maybe there is one other way to get on well with her,'' 

''Oh my god. Shut that filthy mouth of yours!'' Jungkook covers his ear, physically abhors from what his friend just implied. ''I would never do... that,'' 

''Jungkook you know who is not going to work as a nurse in a hospital?'' Jin tilts his brows, secretly pitying the boy who has red cheeks in front of him. ''perverts like him,'' 

''Oh, c'mon,'' Jimin whined, staring at the pointed finger with a knot between his brows. ''I said what everybody was thinking. Blame me all you want but you were thinking like me!'' 

Hoseok giggles while watching the way his friends tearing each other apart with their stares, enjoying the chaos more than he should. Probably the drinks he had just hit his head. He poured himself another one while Jin got red because of all the yell he did to Jimin, and the poor youngest watching them with rounded doe eyes. 

''I see you are having a great time over there,'' the tone of his friend alarmed Hoseok, he acknowledged that he is the next target of his. So he holds his arms up, his pupils dilated from the fear he feels. ''Hey... what did I do to earn that look?'' 

Jimin's little 'o's filling the room while darting his eyes over Jin and Hoseok, happy to see how tables have turned. The youngest staring his hyungs curiously. 

''So you say that you did nothing wrong?'' Jin crosses arms above his chest, cock his head aside. ''Nothing?'' he asks once again to prevent his friends from attempting to deny him. Light tension fills the room while they stare at each other in silence. 

''He is talking about the patient of his, dummy,'' Jimin can't wait a little longer and talks before Hoseok says something. He lifts an eyebrow, trying to understand what his friend was talking about. His 'o' shaped mouth leaves its place to a pout. ''What patient?'' 

Hoseok asks but deeply knows who Jin was referring to, but he wants to deny all he can. Wouldn't want to believe that he was being that obvious in front of his friend and also his co-worker. His heart race goes high, can't believe how unprofessional he looked. If Hoseok ever wanted to disappear from somewhere, it wasn't the time where his pants decided to leave his body and him staring his first crush in his pink underwear. After memories of the first grade fill his mind, Hoseok's face goes even redder than ever. 

''You know 'what' patient I'm talking about Hoseok,'' the oldest rolls his eyes, his nose crinkles in shame after seeing the useless attempts of his friend. He is the second oldest in this group after Jin, yet he looked like a three years old boy. ''I'm talking about Y/N, saying it in case you try not to understand once again, for god sakes Hoseok...'' Jin lets a big sigh, shaking his head earnestly. 

When a pair of sweat drips occurs in his forehead, Hoseok uses the back of his hand to wipe. Even though he tries hard not to be obvious while dripping anxiety sweats, everyone in the room can regardable as a smart man, plus they were knowing him for a long time so it was useless for Hoseok to try to act cool. He lets a little gasp, pouting, ''Yeah, Y/N. She... she looks like a good person. Yeah..'' 

''Good enough to makes you want to slide in her pants?'' Hoseok gasps dramatically, facing Jimin's big grin with a hand on his chest. He could die from embarrassment. 

''Jimin-ah! Stop talking nonsense.'' Jimin's hand wraps around his shoulder, rubbing the spot where his hyung just put a punch, it hurts enough to make him regret what he said but he can't control his tongue when he is with them and the alcohol in his veins. ''Don't make me yell again. I'm working tomorrow,'' 

Jimin's knitted brows start to ease, while his grin finds its place on his lips. But he shifts from where he sits, abstaining from hyung's punch before saying what he has in his mind. ''Does Y/N have an appointment tomorrow?'' he sizes the man in dark hair, flushed pink cheeks in joy. Hoseok doesn't want to look curious and tries to hold his body stable, not moving a muscle or landing an eye on Jin. But he is burning in curiosity, his fingertips numb with the memory of him touching, patting your arm fills in his mind. 

The heated body, radiating too much agony. And for some reason, he can't quite understand, but he knows that he hates to see you like that. How many times did he see you before, three? In every one of them, you looked burned out, terrified. He doesn't know what he hates the most. The sorrow in your eyes or the way you startled in every situation. He doesn't know, nor he understands, put logic in it. But he wants to make sure of your well being. Not knowing you or you being his friend's patient won't stop him, he knows it for sure. Unless you want him to stop. 

''It's not that scary, right hyung?'' with the poke on his shoulder, Hoseok tears from his thoughts, and you. But little did you know, the image of your bright stare in the hospital exit never leaves Hoseok's mind. Haunts him every minute. 

''R-right, not that scary,'' Hoseok nods while the thought of you being a witch wanders on his mind. He is sure that he got caught up in your spell. 

How many times can a person make mistakes? Does it have any statistics, or it's up to that person's imbecility? If you try to count the mistakes you made, you probably would drown under them like a used chocolate packet. But thinking about past mistakes could not give anything in return. Therefore, you focused on today and the days that were waiting for you. 

Searching on the internet about pregnancy, reading all the comments about it didn't help you the way you want. Moreover, it just turned you into a confused wreck. To be more clear, you were looking at how a pregnant woman feels about it, and if you were making a mistake for not choosing abortion. It didn't help because they all wrote how good to be pregnant and being a mother. How they felt amazing and the special bond between them and their babies.

The one bond you couldn't feel for a particular reason. 

They all wanted to be a mother, thinking about this a lot and then deciding the time they want. And the ones who got pregnant by accident or without wanting at first, get used to all the hardship with their partner unlike you. 

It was useless, and just remembered how lonely you are. So you had to close the laptop before you broke it. Thanks to your pregnancy brain, you never felt this unstable in your life. It was being on a roller coaster with never-ending ups and downs. One second, you were feeling above the clouds, happiest woman ever, and then bam, something just snaps and you can't ease the need to break something. Preferably someone's neck. 

''Yah! From earth to the woman who is drooling,'' when Taehyung snaps his finger on your face, you flinch with the sudden move. Tearing yourself from your thoughts, you size the lovely boys who are staring at your face. ''What were you thinking that deeply?'' 

''And use this. Geez,'' taking the white napkin from Namjoon's hand, you push it to your drooling chin. It was surprising how much saliva your body produces. Almost equal to a Lama. ''It was nothing. Just... just thinking about work and stuff, you know,'' 

Namjoon tsks, lifting his brows in disbelief. ''And I should believe this?'' you shrug one shoulder, throwing the napkin on the table after folding in your palm. You also read about pregnancy drooling. At first, you did not believe it, but as you can see how much you do it was impossible not to believe. ''Believe it or not, it's the truth I'm telling you.'' 

''Aish... stubborn as always,'' Taehyung rolls his eyes at you, pulling his eyes from you to land on Yoongi who sits right beside you. ''Are we watching the movie as we are all together and no work tomorrow?'' he sizes you all, eyes gleaming with expectations. 

''The one you never shut your mouth about?'' Yoongi asks, showing how he got sick of his countless insists to watch a certain movie with them because he was the chicken in the group. ''It's fine by me but is it okay to watch scary movies during pregnancy?'' he continues after Taehyung nods in excitement, but once Yoongi points at the elephant in the room, his mood visibly fades. 

''I don't think so,'' guessed as the elephant in the room, ''They never said anything about it. Both Seokjin and the internet so yeah, why not. Let's get over with it,'' you waved your hand, trying not to turn this into something big. 

When Taehyung wiggles his body in weal, Yoongi scoots over, landing his arm over your shoulders and pulling you close. ''You can always hug me if you feel too scared, you know?'' he grins, patting you on the shoulder. The daringness of the boy always manages to shock you, leave you speechless. But Namjoon acts before you can say anything, ''If she can't find you, there is always another man who waits for her. Right, Y/N?'' he made the effort to sound sneering. You give the finger as a response, but he finds it amusing. 

''Wait-Who are you talking about? Yourself?'' the ash-blonde haired man's eyes go wide, brows tilted. Pout on the lips looks adoring on him, as cheeks get even more fluffy. You want to laugh but you cover your mouth with your hand before sending menacing eyes at Namjoon. 

''Huh. No, aish... no way. I'm telling this one last time, she is not my type. Sorry, honey but I'm talking about Damian. The man who always tries to get in your pants, remember?'' You shush him off immediately. The level of restraining you had against your anger getting lower by the unabashed smile he sends at you. 

''He is not trying...'' as everyone knew how Damian treated you, always tried to do something for you, you did not feel the need to talk back. Teahyung laughs while Namjoon fills his mouth with the cupcake he bought for you. There is no need to say he ate half of them. 

''That man waits on a leash for you, and don’t even fight me on this. You know that.'' Namjoon said, his voice sounded hoarse because of the cupcake he was rolling in his mouth. 

''I agree with Namjoon-ah on this. I saw it with my bare eyes, he is so whipped for you.'' Taehyung backs up, leaning to steal a cupcake from the plate. Even though you know they were right, you didn't want to talk about him anymore. He had a thing for you or not, either way, you didn't want to think about a man in this circumstance. 

''He can wait all he wants, but we all know this pretty lady only has one man in his heart,'' when he gets sick of the topic and hearing the name of a man his friend's talking about, he decides to step in. Yoongi suppresses you on his chest tighter, wrapping you with his warm arms. ''And that man is me, right?'' 

Humming at his question, you wrap your arms around him and let yourself find comfort in his soothing affection. 

The four of you grow together, got more and more close in time, but contrary to Namjoon and Taehyung friendship it was different with Yoongi. You two met when you both had a bad breakup, and were suffering yourself every day. So, your relationship took a different path after a while, it turned into something more platonic. Neither of you had feelings towards each other but finding comfort and serenity in one another company. It wasn't anything physical if you don't count the comfy hugs, tiny kisses, and holding hands when one of you needed it. 

It happened only when you two felt lonely at the same time, and never crossed the line of friendship. It was a harmless, tiny platonic relationship, and you both loved the way it's going. 

You squish yourself deeper in Yoongi's hold when Taehyung started the scary movie. Between Taehyung's screams and Namjoon's criticisms, you giggled when they started to bicker with each other. And in moments like this, you felt extremely happy. Thankful for having them, the chosen family of yours. It was a great way to have a break from feeling miserable and lifeless. 

‘‘Not right for god sake! I said left, yes, a fucking left!’’ you scream at the man who drives, knowing your words sound harsh, you couldn’t help but not caring a bit as the pain in your inguinal area disturbs you. Yet, your screams and constant curses won’t help the redhead to drive decently, or not miss a turn. Trembling hands help him as much as you while he drips red sweat from his forehead. ‘‘Okay, okay… Can you not shout and leave my eardrum alone. Chill a little woman, geez…’’ 

‘‘Have this burning feeling between your legs, and then try to tell me to shut my mouth. Dickhead!’’ You didn’t know why but you were sure of having a urinal affection that tries to kill you for sure. It started two days ago but it only annoyed you while peeing, but after a while it started ache without even landing your back on the toilet. You could only crawl your legs and press them together to abstain from the pain, yet it was useless. 

Taehyung, the lucky man who is driving you to your appointment, wipes the sweat on his forehead, breathing out from his nostrils in annoyance. ‘‘Sure. I won’t forget that,’’ he snaps back, rolls his eyes at you. His grip on the wheel loose after a while, as he doesn’t want to turn this situation even harder for you. Peeking an eye on you, he decides to melt the ice between you and himself. One hand on the wheel, other reaches out and holds yours tightly, and puts a boxy smile on his face. ‘‘Just hang a little okay? We are almost there.’’ Even though you want to spit on his face one second ago, with the sudden affection your heart decides to melt under his caring gaze. 

You will never get used to these abrupt ups and downs. Not in a million years. 

‘‘Well, I’m not giving birth, don’t I? At least, yet,’’ he giggles, shoulders move a bit with the vibration of his laugh. Thankfully, Taehyung didn’t decline your call when you desperately called him after Yoongi, as you knew you couldn’t handle driving a car in these situations, and taxi drivers always get on your nerves so using them with these hormones wouldn’t end well. Taehyung took the savior role and didn’t lose himself even though he had enough of your filthy mouth, at least he was still driving you to hospital. Not dumping you on the road even though he considered this for a minute. 

‘‘Want to wait for me to park the car or meet you there?’’ he cuts your thoughts while pulling the car in front of the entry. Moving swiftly, you open the door and almost run to the elevators after telling him a simple ‘there’, leaving him behind. Heading to the elevator, you act like you are not having the thought of the man who has a heart-shaped smile. You didn’t even know his name, as you trick yourself into this idea. You press the button after entering the grey elevator with a couple of people, two of them step out with you on the third floor, heading to a different direction. 

While you were walking to your doctor office, for the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel heavy on the heart. Not that you were not anxious, but it was different now. The ball of sweats didn’t crept towards your forehead, heart wasn’t beating like it was going to explode, or the way your eyelids stayed dry. Normally they would go puffy from wetness by now. But here you are, standing inches away from Doctor Kim’s door, and not having a slight terror beating on your throat. 

This is a first for you. And probably for your doctor too as he always witnessed your breakdowns. What a pathetic loser, he must think about you, as you did think just like that. 

‘‘Welcome, Y/N,’’ Doctor Kim reacts by standing up after seeing you, holding his hand up to greet you. You couldn’t help not to mirror his smile, squeezing his hand with a pleased smile, happy to see him. ‘‘You look good. Things have been going good, I guess?’’ he asks, pulling his hand to gesture you to sit in your usual place. For a second, you stay silent, not knowing what to say as you didn’t want to lie for some reason. Knowing he is always caring and sweet towards his patients, he still manages to make you feel special in a way. Probably thinking dumbly, but you feel close to this man, and wanted to share the truths. Even though you were not sure if things have been going good, or the total opposite. Well, you were still dealing with pregnancy hormones, morning sickness, and constant urinal issues - ignoring the unwanted pregnancy -, but you can say you were more optimistic these days? You didn’t know, had no idea… 

Sitting on the black couch where he gestured, you bob your head, gathering your thoughts. ‘‘To be honest, I don’t know how I feel. You know about the pregnancy mind and emotions. I think I’m trying to be better,’’ he gives a polite smile, white pearls appear behind his lips. ‘‘Oh, that’s good news. At least we are trying to overcome the negativities, huh?’’ you giggle, nodding while your heart warmed with the way he mentions ‘we’. Not throwing you under the bus, but also counting himself in, easing your anxiety day by day. You found yourself lucky. 

‘‘So, painful urinates.’’ his expression changes in a minute to a professional doctor he is from a friendly one. Eying the papers for a couple of minutes, he holds out a tiny paper to you before adding, ‘‘Let’s have a urine test, first.’’ he smiles again, and informs you about the floor you should go to. 

You already hate taking these tests, have to pee in a cup and all the humiliation you felt after holding it in your hand in the corridor, in front of all those people. Like it wasn’t enough, you couldn’t drop a little drip in a damn cup. Exhaling the air in your lungs, you wipe the sweats from your forehead. Of course, nothing will work in the way you wanted, have to drive you crazy before. ‘‘Why, why, why exactly I can’t pee?’’ you groaned, lifting your pants and pulling the zip before washing your hands two times - because who would wash one time -, and you exit from the toilet to meet with your friend. ‘‘I can’t pee,’’ you sat in defeat, shoulders dropped dead on your body, and you watched your friend’s laughs and snorts that filled the corridor. At least one of you had fun today… 

‘‘You look all pouty and teary just because you can’t pee?’’ he hits his knee with one hand, lips reaching from ear to ear, while you eye him with a crabby gaze. This man wants a punch. ‘‘Ohh… God, you are so cute,’’ he continues to giggle while arms pull you into a hug, one kiss lands on your hair. Then, he informs you to wait for him, and leaves you there to overthink. It’s funny how life treats you sometimes, when you think. You literally wake up every hour to pee from your comfy bed, but when it’s come to an important task, your urinal system decides not to do the thing that it does for a thousand times a day. Hah, funny! Not that you are surprised, though. Looking at your past, nothing came easy, hence, never left without making a big fuss. You did get used to all the trembling mess in your life, but all you wanted was to pee without having a meltdown. Is it too much to ask? Aish… just when you thought everything going alright, not suffocating you with handicaps on your way and such things like-

‘‘For a person who holds a plastic cup, you look very sad.’’ a honeyed giggle interrupts your overthinking, forcing your attention on itself. And with a slight surprised gaze, you had nothing to do other than facing the oh so familiar sound. ‘‘Do you need help?’’ 

‘‘With this?’’ you hold the cup high, now surprised more than before. Watching the man giggle visibly, after seeing your wide open eyes. 

‘‘What! Of course not.’’ he almost shrieks with a mocking attitude. ‘‘It was a way more general question than it’s heard.’’ finally he stops laughing, giggling after sitting right beside you. Brown gaze locked on you after silence takes over your small conversations, but you don’t feel uncomfortable the way you should. The way you thought you should act if you run into him again, but the annoying fondness toys with your heart. After the day you last saw him, you regretted shortly after the way you acted all needy, as a fragile little girl. You still can’t believe how you felt heartbroken when he didn’t find a way to drive you home. What were you? Some girl who can’t control her emotions or hormones? And no, using pregnancy as an excuse won’t work this time. You had strict rules to obey. No man must go near to your heart. 

‘‘Doctor Kim wanted a urine test?’’ Hoseok tried to look cool, asking nonchalantly and tried to trick himself as he only wondered about this as a nurse. Not out of curiosity about your situation or health. Badly wishing you would fool around and not hit him on the head. 

‘‘Hmm. Probably an infection. He wanted a test.’’ you nod, chewing your bottom lip while his chocolate orbs never leaves your face. While your fingers play with the cup, eyes locked on them as you are afraid to look him in the eye, not trusting yourself enough on not blushing all over while eying him. He had some kind of an effect on you, and you hated that. You really did. He leans closer when you scream internally, ‘‘There is something,’’ he murmurs before the touch of his fingertips lick your cheek a bit, feeling the tremble on his hand while he takes a tiny leaf from your hair. It was stupid to feel, but the scene had resemblance with the tv dramas. Both of you stayed dumbfounded as he dared to touch you, of course, you were too close and air left the tiny space. Under the spotlight you two were frozen, waiting for a miracle to move. Something happened soon after, but you may not call it a ‘miracle’ as it was your dumb friend, who yelling at you from across the corridor. 

‘‘Y/N-ahhh!’’ A couple of eyes landed on Taehyung in disbelief, a couple of ‘tsc’s murmured by the older ones, and immediately the young man shut his mouth. Holding his hand above his parted lips, embarrassment turns his cheeks scarlet, heart beating inside of his throat. But all the embarrassment dies after Taehyung spots you and the man right beside you, hand on your hair, the same scarlet on his face. Then Taehyung visibly changes, and you know what is about to happen that you hated so much. Before you could open your mouth to say something, or Hoseok lands his hand, your friend was there. Taking deep breaths, nostrils getting big with every breath. ‘‘I’m Taehyung, and you?’’ wanting to slap your forehead, or his face, you stood up and Hoseok followed your act. 

‘‘H-hey. Hoseok,’’ Hoseok holds his whimper when the red haired man tries to break his hand in the handshake. He doesn’t understand the situation, or why this man looks like he was about to rip his head off, but Hoseok couldn’t help to push his chest up a little bit to show he is not intimidated by the man in front of him. ‘‘Hahaha, how you meet with each other kindly, huh? Hoseok is the best nurse in this hospital as Doctor Kim said,’’ you try to ease the moment, but the words all sound shrill, ‘‘And Taehyung is-’’

‘‘Taehyung,’’ your best friend for life, wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body. With dreadful eyes you scan his face, then landing on Hoseok, watching the strain on his jaw. ‘‘Nice to meet you,’’ Taehyung adds, and you want to punch him. Oh gosh, you want to punch him so bad on the balls. Until his know-it-all, stupid face reddened. He was forcing your restraining level, pushing you too much with the protective acts of him. Between your internally crisis, you land an apologetic gaze on Hoseok’s, wishing him not to care of your stupid friend’s attitudes. 

‘‘Yes. Yes, of course, nice to meet you, too,’’ Hoseok bids his goodbye after taking his hand from Taehyung’s grip, as kind as he can manage. Trembling left hand finds a way to ease the act by wandering on his hair, ruining it. He doesn’t know why the burning ball dropped at his chest out of nowhere, or why his breaths become so fast. Wanting to punch himself in the face, he can’t get rid of the image of the arm over your shoulders. Blood almost meets with air when he bites down his lip, a feeling clawing his chest, but he doesn’t know what it is. He doesn’t want to learn, either. 

‘‘Ouch!’’ Taehyung voices a hoarse whine, rubbing the skin under his rib cage. An instant ache raised after the touch of your elbow, landing on him with a great aspect. ‘‘Did I play good?’’ he tries to laugh but with the pain he wheezes, playfulness wiped from his face. 

‘‘What was that?’’ slapping him one more time, you raged. Hoseok’s back already lost in the corridor, but remembering how his face dropped down, and a terrible anguish struck your heart. Of course it was only because Taehyung mocked him, that was why you felt this stinging guilt. Yeah, that’s why. ‘‘What was what? I think I played well. Shouldn’t we protect you from the danger going around?’’ he asked like it was the obvious thing. Surprise on the face. 

‘‘Who are ‘we’, exactly?’’ 

‘‘Well, you know. Me, as your best friend, also Namjoon. And Yoongi, not that I can count him as your friend, but yeah… You see, that is we,’’ he points, dropping a quotation mark on the air. Breath, yes just breath and ignore the boiling anger inside of you. It would be the best thing to do. ‘‘And here, drink this bottle. Sure you’ll pee like an elephant in a minute.’’ Before taking the bottle from his grip, you tried to say something, abortively parting your mouth only to close it in a minute as you don’t know what to say. The redhead eyes you as if nothing happened, like he didn’t do anything wrong a minute ago, and you didn’t know which word would shake his mind. Maybe a slap, or even a kick would work but with a living creature inside of your belly, you won’t kick anybody. Even if that anybody boils your blood, inflames your migraine. 

Audibly gulping you drink the water swiftly. Hitting the bottle on his chest, you turn to sit where Hoseok just left. An itchy feeling appeared on your chest, leaning to your fingertips by your arms, and you wanted to do something. Probably it was a dumb idea, but for some reason you had an urge to explain who was Taehyung actually, why he was here and all the question in his mind. Even though some part of you screams at you, writing the sane thing with red color. Why would he have any questions in his mind? Or, why would he want an explanation from you? 

Not knowing exactly if it’s okay to eat diet biscuits, you send another crumb to your mouth, crushing it slowly between your molar teeth. A kid looks at you with wide eyes beside you, she points you to show how scary you look while looking at the floor in a trance to her mother. Which you don’t know what was going on in the world as thinking about nothing was way more entertaining than watching the others. Plain biscuit didn’t put a joy in your mouth, rather it tasted like grass. Not that you knew how grass tasted like, or not that you waited for an explosion in your mouth out of joy. All these useless thoughts wander on your mind, keeping you busy while you wait for your test results. Surprisingly, your dummy friend advised you the reasonable thing, like a broken clock showing the right time twice a day, he used his dusty brain for once. After gulping down a bottle of water, a wave of need had hit you on the inguinal area. All you needed to do was wait for the moment, but you were too impatient to do so. Hitting the table with your fingertips, keeping a broken rhythm, humming to yourself got boring after you started. A ball was going right to the left in your blank head, you were able to hear the sound of emptiness. 

‘‘I don’t want to eat this!’’ in the crowded hospital canteen a voice comes out, beating all the other sounds and tickling your ears. ‘‘No. I said no!’’ when the woman tried to feed the little satan again, he jerked his hand and hit the spoon on the woman's hand. Geez. A cold drop takes a track all the way down your spine, causing you to shiver in shock. The satan in the shape of a little boy started to cry soon after the spoon met with the floor, kicking the table and smacking the food on the ground. You were stunned, speechless for a moment as the scene continued by the little boy having a tantrum right beside you. Calling him with such a bad name didn’t bring you any guilt, moreover, you think it suited him well. Red on the face, constant punch on the air and wobbly screams coming out of the boy made some resemblance with the evil force in him. Not that you knew much about babies or little kids, but this boy looked at least four or five years old, yet he managed to put fear in your gut. 

A bucket of cold water dropped by your head, waking you from the trance you dive into. You had no idea about raising a baby, or taking care. It was hitting you with a wave of truth that you had no ability to look out for a baby, while you can’t even survive from the winter on your own. Never thinking of raising the baby in your belly, you never applied to an adoption foundation, though. What were you thinking? You would get used to this, being pregnant, being a mother? Suddenly you would expect the baby, out of nowhere? 

You were acting foolish, reckless and immature. Always having hard times without a father, how could you think you can raise a baby on your own. And until now, you didn’t know that you had such a dump idea. Did you really want to raise a baby on your own, you weren’t quite sure about it, but you never researched the many ways of adoption. Bitterness floats around your tongue, your grip on the biscuit hardened, until there is nothing but a bunch of crumbs. Cold wet stick on your back, black shirt becoming the second skin while your eyes wander around everywhere. Having multiple panic moments these last weeks, you read much about pregnancy depression, which they mostly said it was okay to feel depressed or down because of the uncertainties of your emotions. They were up and down in a blink, filling your stomach until you threw them out with a retch, waking you up with heavy breaths in the middle of the night. That’s why, you always found yourself thinking if this would be much easier with somebody, with… him. Sticking your tongue between your teeth, you hate yourself for thinking about him, the man who ran away from you with toes hitting his butt. And all these pregnancy hormones were confusing your mind, causing you to barking up the wrong tree. 

While you were feeling under the water, fighting with your thoughts to see clearly, a sweet melody of a laugh interrupted the stinging flood of negativities on your mind. Something snapped, and all the scars started to heal after hearing a simple giggle. 

Holding your head up, letting the soothing tone sail into your skin, kissing all the stitches to heal by soft touches, you eyed him. Growing pains chucked away against the pressure of the thrilling balm, honeyed warmness bloomed in your chest after witnessing the mouth curling a heart-shape. He was close enough for you to see the glowing wriggle in his eyes, and you wanted to curl, cover your body with the thought of its beauty. For a second, you wanted to let yourself find the momentary tranquility under his magic, even though it was black. Even though it was harmful for you, too soothing, too good to be true. 

‘‘H-hi,’’ with a croaky voice popping on your mind, you shake your head to come back to reality. The reality where Hoseok was standing behind the table, a timid smile on his face, feeling uneasy. 

Hands crossing each other's way, you stare him blankly, mouth barely spills the greeting. ‘‘Still waiting for the reports?’’ he asks after coughing to get rid of the hoarse voice, billion reasons wandering inside his mind, telling him not to talk with you after what happened on the second floor, but the unknown reason holds his legs tight. Conversely, the part of him, where the logic was long lost can’t ignore the doleful lines on your face. Hundred promises lost its effect with one glimpse towards your direction. Promising, taking oaths for not talking to you was useless over the way his heart reacted after seeing the way you sit all alone. His guts, senses, brilliant mind were nothing but a bunch of trash when it comes to you, and the more he hated the way he walked over his own promises, the more he found himself in a deep hole, where he can’t think of anything but you. As his friend said before, he was stupid. Hoseok knew this very well. 

‘‘Yeah, still waiting. But, it’ll be over soon,’’ you cracked a tiny smile, scanning his face until a voice cut the moment, but Hoseok’s lips never moved. 

‘‘Hey, it’s Jimin,’’ hand hanging in the air, you stared at the man for a second before reacting. Slightly long dark hair falls on the side of his forehead, a tender smile turns his pupils into half-moons, self-assuredness can easily read. ‘‘The best nurse you can run into,’’ he nods to emphasize his words. But his cockyness fades after Hoseok adds ‘pre’ to his caption, holding your laugh back you cover your palm over your mouth. Hiding your grin back as you don’t want to offend the boy you just met. ‘‘Hi, it’s nice to meet. You can call me Y/N,’’ hearing your name, a light ignites in his half-moons, passing by in satisfaction. 

‘‘You don’t mind if we sit together, right?’’ mischievous glares stare deep in you, like he tries to prevent you from saying no, yet you had no intentions to say that. ‘‘We don-’’

Hoseok eyes you in surprise after you cut his words half, not expecting you to agree on what Jimin just said. The smile on your lips shocks him as well, getting cramps on the heart when you land your eyes on him that softly. ‘‘Of course, that would be good. Having a company sounds good,’’ 

‘‘Where is your…-red haired man?’’ a bizarre tone rises from Hoseok when he takes his place on the chair beside you. Before answering him, the embarrassing scene plays on your mind, sending a bunch of curses to the man who drives himself away from the hospital. You curl an apologetic smile. ‘‘He needed to leave. You know, work calls,’’ allowing yourself to feel stupid, blaring giggle popped out of you. It sounded fake, as you were still ashamed of Taehyung’s behaviours. He only nodded, not adding anything until the black haired one leaves to get something to drink. It was silent between you, but nervousness could cut a wire. Both the way his jaw tenses every other minute, and the way your eyes never land on him more than three seconds, you can sense the awkwardness. Never seeing him like this also disturbed you even though you only run into him for like three times. But as soon as the younger one moved away, chary words spilled by his lips. 

‘‘W-was he the father of the baby?’’ Hoseok asked, knowing he is crossing the line big time, but the vexed part of him clouds his logic. Even though he curses himself being this immature, he can’t help the vain need that grows inside of him to learn the truth. Even before seeing your face getting white, lips parting abruptly with an unexpected question, Hoseok knew he shouldn’t ask the question, but witnessing the way you react, he curses himself one more time. ‘‘Who? Taehyung?’’ As you weren’t waiting for him to ask such a question, he wasn’t expecting you to laugh until your body became involved in your laughter. Stuttering, being unable to complete your word, you hold your finger on the air to ask for a minute to gather yourself. For a moment of thinking Taehyung as the father of the baby in your belly made you giggly mess because of the abruptness of it. You not only want to retch with the thought of it, but also want to laugh until your muscles stop working. ‘‘No! Oh, o-of course, no.’’ forgetting where you were, you burst out. 

‘‘Oh, okay?’’ ignoring the dense relief, Hoseok hesitated. Not knowing what to say in return as you were trying to hold your laugh back. 

‘‘S-sorry but thinking of him as that just wrecked my nerves for a moment.’’ wiping the tears from your eyelids, you continued. ‘‘He is my friend. Best friend to be exact. He did act silly before, sorry for that either. He think he needs to protect me.’’ as you gave too much information at one, Hoseok’s pupils grew bigger, and weren't expecting to receive such a reply. He doesn’t even try to hide his amused smile back, shamelessly showing it out. ‘‘Good,’’ he commented before causing a big, heavy silence between you two. As you eyed him in a moment of confusion glowing in your eyes, weighing the meaning behind the word, you were utterly surprised. Was it just to fill the space, or he meant something else, you never truly understand, but decided to lure yourself into thinking it meant nothing. Otherwise, you were in a state of having no control over your emotions, and god knows what that simple world would do to your mind, playing games until you found yourself curled in your sheets, losing the pitiless game. You had lived that more than once, but in this situation, it would tousle you and throw your parts messily. 

Dropping himself on the chair, Jimin spread the husky mood. ‘‘Here hyung, your latte.’’ He pushed the glass to Hoseok’s direction, smiling sweetly, he didn’t forget you. Putting the scarlet cup in front of you, knowing the pleasant scent devours your nostrils in no time. ‘‘And this is for you. It’s my favorite so I hope you’ll like this,’’ he adds, gaze glowing happily. 

‘‘Ah. Thank you,’’ before taking a sip, you murmur, bowing your head little to show your gratitudes. Risky mood runs away after the hot liquor lingers around your mouth, playing, tickling your tongue over and over until it has lost its ruins. Well, you can say that you liked Jimin without having any lack of sympathy before he even treated you with the oh so familiar taste. It was soothing, alarming your senses to ease kind of a taste, and you remembered how your mother always made a cup of this tea whenever you gave her a tantrum. It never mattered if the tantrum was caused because you wanted a shoe, or rejected by those companies over and over again. And for a split moment your heart jammed between the agonizing longing over seeing her crow's foot while your mother smiles endearingly. ‘‘What is this?’’ 

Seeing how your face lightens with the flush crepting up your face, Jimin waits a second to answer. ‘‘It-it’s my mother's recipe. Why?’’  

‘‘You serious?’’ mouth falling open, having no control over the tone of your voice, you yowled. Without wasting another minute, you gulp down the second sip. Licking the taste out of your lips, a smile beamed to your face.

‘‘W-why?’’ stuttering his words, Hoseok leaned closer. Dramatic dread banged his face in a flash of light, but before he could gather his senses, Jimin’s mischievous eyes caught him. 

‘‘My mother always made this when I felt angry or emotionally sick. Even now,’’ giggling away your embarrassment as you shared much again. Seeing the way Hoseok’s dimple color the side of his upper lips as it gets smaller with the curling smile. His eyes glistened with the dim joy covering over his chest. And it affected you. ‘‘So who made them?’’ you look back as you were able to see the creator of your childish happiness, and attempt stealed a tiny laugh from Jimin’s lips. 

‘‘It’s a secret for now,’’ with a twisted smile curling his face, he swallowed a big sip from his coffee. ‘‘As we need to leave now. Right hyung?’’ Two pairs of eyes land on Hoseok, who was locking his gaze on you with an adoring smile on the corner of his lips. Not wanting to show it on your face, you were heartbroken a little as he just got here. They. They just got here. And you can’t deny that you had fun talking with Jimin, sharing the same recipe from your mother’s was exciting. But you had to gulp down your disappointment after seeing the mealy eyes, you faked a giggle. ‘‘I will be okay if you’re looking at me like that because you think I’m too powerless to be left alone.’’ To be honest, you lied to avoid revealing any kind of negative expression. Including yourself, as you repeat that you don’t need someone to hold your hand and wait by your side. Liar. 

‘‘Did you came here with your car?’’ he was about to turn his back when the idea hit him, and he gestured his body towards you once again. Reminding you of the absence of any vehicles to take you back to your not so lovely, cold home. Whether you were exaggerating the situation of your home, you blamed the loneliness. It made you feel cold in there, like a lost puppy, who can’t find the way back home. ‘‘Uber gonna work for me today,’’ you hinder the unnecessary thoughts of you, smiled naively. Then, ecstasy glowed in his browns. Like he detected something way good to celebrate it with a genuine grin. ‘‘If it’s okay, I’d like to drive you back. I had a semi-promise as I remember?’’ 

This was unexpected. As you stare at him back, lips parted slightly due to the maze you found yourself in, feeling a bit funny. Hoseok felt the urge to continue as you stayed staring as you just swallowed a stick. ‘‘My shift is almost over, so you don’t have to wait too long. But only if you’re comfortable,’’ 

‘‘O-okay.’’ Comfortable? Was he joking or he was that oblivious to the way you move, act like a fool around him. ‘‘It would be fine, I guess..’’ your voice trailed off in the end. Afraid to be a burden on him, you were about to turn down his offer. But a blooming, heart-shaped smile put you back on the place. He wasn’t doing these to look kind, he was kind and really wanted to help you out. Even though you weren’t aware of that. 

Wetting his lips ecstatically, his fingers met with his hair as he didn’t know where to put them. ‘‘Then I’ll be at the front gate in half an hour later?’’ he noted. Waving his goodbye, as you mimicked him back without forgetting Jimin, telling him how glad you are that you met him. His half-moons appeared as he bid his goodbye back, wrapping his arms around you tightly. It surprised you how sincere he was, but you put aside your cold-hearted acts for a second to hug him the same way. Which, it felt nice. Now, you were going to wait for him after seeing Doctor Kim, and get your medicine. You knew he would give you an antibiotica as you were aware of the current situation. Yes, it is good. Think about antibiotics to press down your horror, your anxiety over being driven to your home by Hoseok. That would hold back your mind from whirling around. 

Life was funny. The way it worked amazed everyone in this world as well as you. It was funny because you were a mess not long ago. Agonizing, trembling waves of pain never left your chest for a moment, and you found yourself crying in every possible corner. Opposite to the current emotions howling inside of you. Heart stepped closer to the edge of a skyscraper, almost ready to jump with the non stop thrill pumping out of it. After feeling like ages now, you feel the blooming tiny happiness inside your chest. Besides being a good thing, it was also terrifying as you were broken like a glass, torn into million pieces by the love of your life. At least you thought he was the one. Luckily or not, it came out as a false alarm. He wasn’t the one, and never intent to be. Stop thinking about that imposter you wrecked idiot. There was no way that he could make you sad anymore. Not that you had someone, or thinking about filling his old place. Speaking of the devil’s name, you were not thinking about Hoseok to fill his place, but he helped you in the way he wasn’t aware. You come to your senses, remembering you were still a living, breathing human being. Pregnant or not. It wasn’t the end of the world, and you will figure out what to do. Sooner or later. You always did. 

Maybe this, being all sunshine, a ball of optimism was an effect of Hoseok. Still, you were happy at the moment. Weren’t you?

‘‘Oh. You are here,’’ breathy voice came right beside you, tearing you apart from overthinking. And you made the first mistake by sizing him from head to toe. Seeing him in loose black sweatpants, green sporty jacket and darker shade of green t-shirt keeping a necklace above his chest, cost you. The damn glasses didn’t help you, as well. It tied your tongue how his façade changed with a simple outfit. He looked breathtaking indeed. Landing his beg from his shoulders, he pushed back his glasses on his nose. ‘‘I was anxious a bit that you’d left as it took more than I expected to come here,’’ 

A heavy breath turns into a silent hiccup, hitting you on the chest when his eyelids crinkles with an apologetic smile. This was going to be the biggest mistake you ever made - without counting your pregnancy, of course - and you didn’t pay much attention at the exact moment. It felt warm on the chest, if you had to find an excuse. ‘‘Were you? I just came here, too, so it's okay.’’ Forty minutes wasn’t that long and yes, one can say you just come here. 

‘‘Great then. Shall we?’’ Hoseok gestured to the exit, waiting for you to stand beside him. Both of you ignored the growing awkwardness for as long as you can. He was going to drive you home. It was a long road, and you couldn’t just ditch him without offering him something in return. 

Imitating him, you arrived in his car in the park. Shiny red car awakened your admiration. Not that you get paid poorly, or you knew much about cars, but you were smart enough to understand how expensive this car is. ‘‘Do you want me to open the heater?’’ 

‘‘Huh?’’ staring him like a deer in the headlight, you stopped brushing your hands to your pants. He caught you out of blue. ‘‘No, no. It’s not that cold. Just… just my cold hands, that’s all.’’ sinking deeper in the black leather seat, you gulped. Blinking unaware of how pale your face is, you blurt out a plane smile. Never thought of being a woman who likes his partners in such a power, or in great wealth, butterflies raised inside of you. As witnessing the way he grabbed the wheel like ruling a whole country caught your attraction. Was watching someone while driving count as a kink? You didn’t hope so. Fucking pregnancy hormones. 

‘‘Can you write the address on the navigation?’’ he pleaded, locking his seat belt. As you mirrored him before typing your address with a shaky hand. Since when giving your address stopped becoming a threat, you didn’t care. Finishing the task he gave, you leaned back happily. Anxiety still tried to get away where you pressed it down, wanted to eat your happiness alive and offer you the biggest panic attack you ever had. Fortunately, Hoseok managed to hold you at ease, even without working for it. After ten minutes of silence - and it was long enough for you to have a drip of sweats on your forehead - he broke it with an apology. ‘‘You can take back your apology that you bid for you friend’s behavior, as mine didn’t act very differently,’’ 

Releasing the bottom lip free from your teeth’s torture, you turned your head. ‘‘You don’t have to apologize for Jimin. He was sweet,’’ mentioning of his name, mischievous half-moons came alive in your mind. You smiled with the memory. Which Hoseok catched it with the corner of his eye. ‘‘I almost forgot the taste of that tea my mother made for me. So he did something very good for me,’’ you bobbed your head, continuing to smile. 

With the word ‘mother’, Hoseok’s memory of seeing you on the bench while crying, having a heart-to-heart talk with your mother rouse itself. Rusty weariness still visible in your façade, his heart sank into a familiar ache, remembering how desperate you looked before. Unintentionally he grabbed the wheel tighter, brows snapped together as he had no power to hold back the pain you were feeling. First time in his life, he felt useless and it bothered him so much. ‘‘Is she living far from you?’’ 

‘‘If you call two hours of car ride far, then yes?’’ lifting your brow up, you eyed his genuine smile. Eyes getting thinner with the weight of his cheek, milky teeth appeared. 

‘‘I never thought that you’ll turn out as a lazy person,’’ as your mouth takes the shape of an ‘o’, his giggles suffuse the car. ‘‘C’mon. Beat me if I’m wrong but you are not really thinking its long, right?’’ 

‘‘Well, can’t a woman be lazy in peace?’’ 

‘‘Yep, of course.’ holding his giggle behind, he struggled as you rolled your eyes. ‘‘You are totally. Totally had every right to be lazy. Over a two hours car ride,’’ covering his palm under his lips, honeyed cackles slipped away. He was lucky you found him cute. No. No you didn’t. 

‘‘Rude.’’ you crossed your arms above your chest, shifting your direction out of the car, watching the nearest things disappear in a moment. Cars, trees and buildings fading away until the vehicle slowed down a bit, and then stopped going as the red light blurted out. Knowing it will look childish to put an attitude over something this stupid, but for some reason, you also knew he wouldn’t find this abrupt. You would hold your mind busy with keeping an attitude towards Hoseok if your eyes hadn't caught two girls passing by in front of the car, eating the donut ice cream sandwiches in such a piquant way. You knew it was grilled donut, and you would sell your soul just to have one of them right now. Mouth watered with the sight, and tickling craving increased little by little. Covering every piece. If your lips have been locked together a tiny bit loosely, a drop of saliva would drip to the corner of your chin. You read a lot about pregnancy cravings, but you never had this strongly. Fingertips never itched to grab those sandwiches, tear them apart from the girl’s hand this much. Teeth nibbing the bottom lip, you clawed your palms to hold yourself back. At the verge of crying from the need you feel, shaky breath step in the nostrils. It wasn’t the place for this. Not now. Not in front of him. 

Eventually, the light turned green, car moved far away from the girls. From the ice cream sandwiches. Far away from the sweet, mesmerizing taste. Fuck this shit. You were about to lose your mind, and nothing took your mind from those sinful sweets you craved so much. Bottom lip starts to tremble with the amount of sadness you gather inside, head almost whirl around and you almost give away a big whine. It was so stupid to feel, but nothing was going to change the way you feel as you know about this--

‘‘Here we are!’’ the man on the wheel turned his head to give an eye curling smile. But your reaction confused him. Trembling lip, the tip of the nose got pink. Teary eyes wide open, looking upset. He had no doubt. You were looking like a little girl, and his heart grew soft. ‘‘Is everything ok-’’ 

‘‘Thank you for driving me,’’ the brittle voice came out shaky. First, you think about leaving the car as fast as you can and curl in your sheets and cry as you hold tears back, hardly. But the logical side of you found this cruel. Rude also. So you add before grabbing the door handle, ‘‘Can I offer you a cup of coffee? Or whatever you want?’’ 

Afraid of avowing his thrill, Hoseok bobbed his head. ‘‘I don’t want to tire you-’’

‘‘Hoseok, you drive me back all the way down. This is much I can do for you, so please?’’ If his heart didn’t explode before witnessing the warming scene, it was about to. As you said his name in such a tone, adding the cutting please at the end. He was about to lose his mind. That’s all. 

‘‘Okay but I have to get something. You go first, okay?’’ eyes flickered with bliss, your nod was enough for him as a response. 

Choosing stairs over the elevator, you breathe out. It was tiring but counting this as an exercise wasn’t the worst thing you had done. Still too burned out from the severe need of the particular dessert, you barely hold yourself on your feet. It was a tiring day. Very, indeed. Throwing your shoes aside, panic bloomed out of sudden. The living room looked like a war scene, and the man you just invited forcefully were about to witness this mess. Standing mortifiedly, you moved swiftly. Gathering the used napkins, dirty t-shirts and socks between your arms, immediately you throw them into your bedroom. He wouldn’t enter here, would he? 

Of course he wouldn’t you horny bastard!

Shaking your head, you turn back to collect the dirty bowls and cups from the table. You only be able to throw them into the sink but at least they belong to the kitchen. ‘‘The thing I get hype for,’’ you mumbled while adding coffee to the filtre on your machine. Pregnancy made your life boring. With these simple events, your heartbeats bobbed over your throat. But boring meant a simple life, and simple didn’t bother you that much. Well, you were going to give birth last than eight months later. Simple days didn’t sound that bad now. Thinking about the pain you will feel… Gosh, it was enough to send shivers to your spine. Opening the oven to boil water, you closed your eyes for a second. 

Knock. Knock. 

Your heart-shaped positivity wasn’t late. It was a bit weird for him to find your apartment right away, as it was his first time. But you didn’t want to bother yourself with such a lame topic, as you opened the door, greeting him with a big grin. He was a guest now. You better act responsible for once. ‘‘Welcome-’’ mouth hanging open, you falter. 

‘‘To be honest, I also love ice cream donuts.’’ your real life angel takes a step inside with a box in his hand. ‘‘But I also know how intense and painful can be the pregnancy cravings.’’ exploring his dimpled smile, you stand still in awe. Knees almost gave away with the piercing glee. 

‘‘How-.. how exactly you understand?’’ stuttering the words, his smile beamed bigger. 

‘‘You were looking at the donuts the same way Mickey stared at my steak. Not to be rude, but it was kinda scary seeing you like that.’’ fingers covering his mouth, lovely giggle slipped once more. And, for the thousand times today, you wanted to cry, but this time it was because of the weight of an armful of happiness. Gratitude. Seeing him all giggly, standing in front of you with a box full of donuts, his thoughtfulness warmed your heart. ‘‘Oh. Did I say do something bad? You look like you were about to cry-’’

‘‘Thank you,’’ words come out in a whisper, husky by the shoulder of him covering your mouth. As you hugged him. Without thinking further. Tightly. Well, when it comes to you, acting unresponsible wasn’t new, but with the new situation made everything even worse. Now, emotions were higher, heavier, wider inside. Plus, he was literally working on breaking your senses, you thought. Even though you sensed he wasn’t a person like that. All calculated and acting sneaky to trick you into something. He was doing all these out of sympathy, and how you didn’t know particularly, but it made everything even more irresistible. Him, to be more specific. 

‘‘S-sorry for…’’ after his hesitant arms letting you off, you gestured to the space between you two. The regret now shaped after your temerity, daring to do something like that whirled your stomach. It felt empty, or about to be empty.

His voice mirrored the caringness he puts out, ‘‘Hugging is not something you should be sorry for Y/N,’’ the taller’s heart fluttered inside his chest, like it had wings to do that. Childish joy filled his guts, seeing you can’t press your smile behind. It gave him a weird satisfaction. ‘‘And don’t want to pressure you or anything but are you going to let me in?’’ he tilted a brow, taunting you with the softest way possible. 

‘‘Oh, shit-..I mean ‘m sorry,’’

‘‘I thought we agreed not to say sorry anymore,’’ finding you while standing, open mouthed, and not knowing what to do, he decided not to push you anymore. It was fun to him, seeing you all going wide-eyes, lips parted in confusing, and the blush covering the fair cheeks. For the sake of your nerves, he pushed back the laughter when you gestured him inside in defeat. Though, you looked so cute, for his eyes. Shyness of you, the way you tried to pick the right words to spill them, or the way you get all high color of red when you revealed your true self, unintentionally, caused his desire to know you get deeper. It was too early to feel, but seeing you sitting in front of him with a cup of tea between your palms, eying the floor amusingly anxious, bloomed something in his upper body. 

‘‘Thanks for the coffee. It's delicious.’’ he gently commanded, pointing the cup in your direction to emphasize. Eyes of him fixed on your face, around your lips. A loud gulp trembling inside of your ears, you blinked. Too much. 

‘‘Do I… something on my face?’’ chewing the bottom lip, tap of your nails filled background with tensed noises. When he nodded and pointed to your face, you were surprised. As you weren’t expecting the blurted question would be real. 

‘‘Yep.’’ he touched his own face, ‘‘Little upper side of the lips,’’ 

Wiping the remains of the ice cream off of your face, you wanted to dive into between the floor and never come back. ‘‘Ahh,’’ you murmured a weak thanks, blank space between you and him getting bigger and bigger as the embarrassment filled your cup. Silence fell down on the space, the pressed worry now peeking its head out of you, while you brushed your palm over the leg. You didn’t know what you were expecting when you invited him over, as you nearly know each other, and maybe nothing in common to talk about. But the stargazer side of you hoped you would find something to talk about, and spontaneously you would come out as the funnest, lively person he met. Bet, you were someone he never met before but you did not think it was something to be happy over. 

‘‘So, you have a dog,’’ What again? This is your best shot to find something to talk with him? What a brilliant mind you had over there. Well, how could you blame him if he decides to leave you right now, right here. 

‘‘Ah, yeah. He is living with my family but yes, I can say that I have,’’ he points out kindly. Probably thinking what was wrong with you as you both looked and sounded dumb and the most boring- ‘‘I see you are living alone? No pet or a roommate.’’ he distracts you from the stressing thoughts that wandered around your mind, tiny uncertainty hanging on his face as he was afraid to pass the line.

‘‘I never thought about having a roommate, or a pet. Even though I like them beyond measure.’’ you continued after a pale smile occurring over your face. ‘‘Maybe in the future? Though, my mother would try to convince me not to, as I’m barely holding myself together,’’ you laughed weirdly as you confessed. He joined you with a wide smile. Mouth taking a shape of a heart, something snapped inside. You licked your lips in need. Something was playing with your air, as you hardly inhaled some. ‘‘Would you do everything your mother said?’’ 

‘‘Uhm… Probably, yes?’’ crinkling your brows, you gave a thought on it. 

‘‘But two hours of car ride still too much?’’ 

‘‘Hey!’’ wide smile turned into laughter when you protested, and soon after, you joined him. It was impossible to do anything else. The tone of the laugh sounded familiar, comfortable, euphoric, and joyful. And wrongly, it made you spill, blurt out the things you kept to yourself, without even thinking much. The mood turned into a gloomy one right after you started to talk. But it didn’t disturbed you the way you thought it would. 

‘‘I know… I know it’s not that long, but, as you know, this pregnancy thing is very new for me, and… and probably you guessed that, but I wasn’t expecting this. And clearly not handling it well. I just can’t confront her before I get used to this, and maybe figure it out what to do?’’ exhaling, heaviness of your chest lessened. ‘‘Unexpectedness of this is already hard and trying to handle this alone is even harder-’’

‘‘Alone?’’ Hoseok couldn’t stop himself before letting the word slip, he regrets it right after. When he cut you off, you realized you shared too much. Eying the cup of tea between your palms, as it had something inside and made you spill all of this. But, without having regrets you continued, worried chuckles jerked out by the lips. ‘‘Well, as it shows, when you aren’t the one who had a growing baby inside, it’s easier to run away.’’ 

‘‘Oh… I’m sorry,’’ Hoseok doesn’t know what to say in return. He is sorry indeed, but mostly angry. Unreasonable rage burning his chest, his eyes, his palms, he stays silent. His logic just can’t put two in two when it's come to think how someone can be this… this relentless. Memories of your broken face, voice, comes alive once again in his mind, now, everything makes sense. The hurt on your face, loneliness of your eyes. Now he understands why your voice always sounded so weak, so crushed. The blue never leaves your façade. It breaks Hoseok’s heart, but he is thankful as you opened your heart. He feels important. Someone you can talk to. And the elder promises not to hurt this trust you showed, innerly. He puts his anger aside, and focuses to make your face wrinkle with laughter. 

And, he does it. 

[alderations]

you never changed, but i sure did

Nastya doesn’t know this, but she’s been floating in empty space for three years. (written for the @mechanismszine !)

Rating: T (for some swearing)

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Temporary Character Death, Post-Out, Memory Loss, Dissociation, Depersonalization, Angst with a Happy Ending

Nastya doesn’t know this, but she’s been floating in empty space for three years.

Nastya doesn’t know much of anything out here. Stars pierce the blankness, pricking her eyes like the tears that would form when it was too cold back home. It’s far too cold here, but her circuits, both metal and flesh, stopped processing that years ago.

She doesn’t have much to take in, between cycles of fading away and shivering back to life every so often when her mechanism can’t keep up with the crushing vacuum. There’s no logic to the moments of clarity in between her deaths, and maybe if she were aware of the anniversary of her self-imposed exile, she would resent it. Instead, her limited consciousness brings her back around to the same thought that’s haunted her since she stepped through the airlock doors: if the Aurora is no longer the Aurora, then who is she?

She’s had plenty of time to form an argument. At first, she would stare at the last remaining piece of her Aurora, mouthing her meaningless silence into the void, as if the tiny scrap of metal would answer her in saccharine Cyberian like the paradox her love always was. Now that Aurora is gone, she has no one to talk to, but she’s so frozen and so lonely that she can only cling to the same series of points.

So one more time, she asks: who is Nastya Rasputina?

A princess. Not remotely. She hasn’t been a princess since she took Carmilla’s hand, regardless of what her creator would say to her when soothing her girlish fears. A princess would have stood with her people when they needed her, rather than dying abhorred and forgotten. A princess was Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova, and Nastya shed that name the moment she had the chance. A princess probably should’ve been a good person. She never was.

Cyberian. Nastya’s heart shattered when she realized that her love could no longer answer her in their native language, but it’s not as if those same words stuck with eternal precision in Nastya’s mind. No matter how stubbornly she clings to the accent, she couldn’t remember all the parts of speech and verb tenses that her tutors made her memorize in her frigid interludes of reality. Had she and Aurora ever spoken real Cyberian to one another? She can’t remember, and the fuzzy emptiness where that knowledge should be scares her more than any of the possible answers.

A Mechanism. She played their music, she told their stories, she jumped headfirst into their pointless violence before her cold hands could stop their trembling. She said I don’t want to die and she suffered on an operating table just like the rest of them. And she knows that all of these things make her who she is, that all of these moments in her immeasurable life were the ones that defined it, but if she tries to put herself in her own shoes at any given point, she can’t remember what it was like to be that Nastya. It feels like she’s read her own biography cover-to-cover hundreds of times, but nowhere has the Nastya of the past reached out to remind her how it felt to live through it. Besides, she’s not like the rest of them—her mechanism has never been something discrete, something to separate from herself and love or revere or despise. For Nastya, Every capillary, every cell, aches with the knowledge that she’s not what she’s supposed to be, and no one understands this but her.

Dead. That one’s easy. Nastya Rasputina is dead, but not for long; she shudders back to life with a scream clawing at her teeth before she can ever really end.

Beloved.

She has been loved. Lots of things about her are fuzzy, some forgotten and some uncertain to begin with, but she knows that she’s been loved. Aurora lived in her veins, and Nastya in hers, and she remembers a Nastya who knew what it felt like to be loved so wholly that it was written into the fabric of her flesh. The rest of the crew loved her in their own ways—Ashes steadying her with an arm around her shoulders in crowded cities; Ivy listening and cataloguing every detail as she rambled about Cyberian machinery lost to the rest of the universe; Marius failing to school the awe out of his expression when she outplayed him on his own violin. And, always, Jonny hiding his affection behind a veneer of murder. Jonny, throwing Carmilla out of the airlock so she couldn’t hurt Nastya again. Jonny, crawling through miles of ducts and vents to find her when she went days without eating, even as he scowled at her and Aurora for being too sappy.  Jonny, bringing her trinkets and mementos every time she was too overwhelmed to stay planetside after a show. But Jonny watched her leave and did nothing to stop her. Now, who’s here to love her in the endless dark between stars? More importantly, who is she if not beloved?

Given all the evidence, there’s only one conclusion to make: she is no longer Nastya Rasputina. She has not been Nastya for a long time, probably even longer than she’s been floating in space. So even if her Aurora was still out there, still launching the Mechanisms from one tragedy to the next, she doesn’t deserve to be a part of that cycle.

The thought fades away, as always, moments before her lungs stop trying to breathe in the nothingness and she dies once again.

---

Needles prick every inch of her skin, inside and out, icy and blazing and unrelenting until she can’t draw in enough air to scream. Then there’s pressure, something cold-hot weighing down on her back, and light so harsh that she sees the afterimage of the stars that she’s stared at for decades, and sound. She can’t remember if she’s supposed to understand what’s happening. There’s no sound in the vacuum, but now she can hear every chirp and whisper and hum of the metal around her, and above all of it, a voice.

It’s been so long since she even remembered a voice.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” the voice barks, and Nastya only understands it because she’s been thinking in the same language this whole time, after all. There’s no resistance left in her, so she tries to move, only to slump to the ground. Was she standing? Strange. “Ashes, move. I said get out!”

The warm pressure on her back shifts, but doesn’t leave, and then something softer touches her face. Her body is faster to remember these things than her, but when she opens her mouth to reply, running on instinct and loneliness so deep it defines her, she can’t make a sound.

Another voice comes from somewhere farther away. “Be gentle, Jonny.”

“I am!” The blur in front of her moves in synchrony with the words. Jonny. Jonny. She’s supposed to feel something about that name. It’s not the name that aches inside her, deeper than her every conscious thought, but she should feel something about it. That feeling swirls under her surface, pushing at the edge of the emptiness that she’s made herself into, but she fades back out of reality before it can give itself a name.

---

“I rewinded to a few minutes before we pulled you in,” says Brian, prodding the screen with a gentle frown. “Are you sure about this?”

Nastya nods. “I—hm. Sorry.” She clears her throat, which she’s been doing every few minutes since she woke up, because even immortality isn’t enough to keep vocal cords working well after nearly a hundred years in space. “It’ll be… closure. At least.”

“Can I stay here with you?”

“Please,” she murmurs. He probably wouldn’t have left regardless, because they’re all afraid to leave her alone right now, but it matters that he asks. It matters that he takes her hand and runs a smooth brass thumb across her palm when she reaches out for comfort. Brian presses play, and the camera feed outside the airlock begins again.

Two minutes of silence, and then a cacophony of boots on metal and shouting and doors hissing open and closed as the crew realizes what’s about to happen. She still doesn’t know who actually tracked her down, who opened the airlock for her in the first place. By the time Ashes pounds on the keypad to open the inner door, Nastya is crumpled on the ground inside the airlock, skin waxy-pale and clothes filigreed with frost, and in the present her breath catches in her throat because she could swear she’s never seen that face before.

On the screen, Ashes drops to their knees and whips the coat off their back to wrap around Nastya, pulling her into their lap and squeezing her tight to their chest. There’s sound on the feed—muffled, but not enough to lose Jonny’s voice as he storms around the corner and shouts at Brian and Ivy to “get the fuck out of my way.” The body in Ashes’ arms flails hard enough that they nearly drop her, and Nastya catches a glimpse of her own face, etched into a frozen frown that makes her stomach go tight and uneasy. “Ashes, move. I said get out!”

Ashes lowers her to the floor, leaving their coat wrapped around her, and the Nastya on screen goes limp moments before Jonny throws himself down next to her and starts slapping her face. After a few seconds without a response, he lets out a scream of frustration as the other crew members back up to give him space. But for once his rage is contained, and he picks Nastya up instead, leaning his cheek against her forehead. She’s so much taller than him. Especially after a hundred years of space-vacuum spine decompression. Still, he’s practically jogging by the time he gets out of the airlock, the others following, and the door closes behind him on its own. The last thing Nastya fixates on is her own hand, limp and gray, dangling down from her body. It can’t be hers. She stares down at her hand in real life, but this one doesn’t look any more familiar.

“I s-still don’t know,” she starts, then pauses to close her eyes and take a deep breath when Brian turns to her. He’s so earnest sometimes, it’s hard to look at him head-on. “Who found me? Who got me out of space?”

Brian fidgets with the recording again. “I’m honestly not sure. Here, I can rewind farther—there was this… noise…”

Twenty minutes before the airlock opened. They watch a blank feed for a bit, Nastya’s hand trembling in Brian’s, and after a few minutes he sits down on the arm of the pilot’s chair and starts to stroke her hair. Every touch feels like a tiny shock, but she can’t stand the thought of him stopping. Then the sound comes from the camera feed—not an alarm, at least not one she’s heard before, and she is intimately familiar with Aurora’s standard operating signals. This is a wail, echoing from deep within the ship until the walls reverberate and everything pitches slightly to the left. A sharp turn, maybe? It probably shouldn’t show up on an internal camera like that, but that’s the least of Nastya’s concerns. “Was anyone on the bridge?”

“We can check,” Brian answers, hesitant. He pauses the feed and flips through the cameras—seven pods, kitchen, common room, bridge. Everyone is standing, apparently staring around in bewilderment, but no one is actively steering the ship. When Brian switches the feed again, it’s black.

They both stare at it for a second. “Engine room,” he reads off the top of the screen. “There… should be lights in there, yes?”

Nastya’s throat is too tight to speak. She hasn’t been down there—she’s barely been awake for half an hour, she’s not ready to come face-to-face with Aurora again. But she nods, and Brian presses play, and the wailing starts again, earsplitting even through the cameras. The video is still dark, but it’s clear that this is the closest they can get to the sound.

Of course it was Aurora. She didn’t need to see this to know, but she deserves this shattering ache in her chest, so she keeps watching. Brian apparently has other ideas, because he flips back to the airlock door again, and then switches the cameras to follow Nastya—in Jonny’s arms, and then Marius’s, and then lying on the sofa in the common room while Raphaella feels her forehead and the Toy Soldier bounces on its heels behind her—until she coughs half a dozen times and starts to wake up.

Through every moment, Nastya studies the face on the screen, recording every contour, every feature, every shadow. She can see the details, but when she tries to put them together, something isn’t right. “It’s not me,” she finally murmurs, leaning her head into Brian’s side. “I don’t—I can’t recognize… that person. That’s not me.”

“I can follow you all the way here on the cameras if you want—”

“No, I know,” she cuts him off, growing more insistent. “I know I’m wrong. I know, logically, that Aurora found me and plucked me out of space and you all dragged me inside and I’m here now and I’m fine now, but I don’t know that face, I can’t even recognize my hands in front of myself right now! I’m—I—I had almost a hundred years, according to Ivy, out there in space to think about it, and you know what I found out?”

Brian’s face is taut with concern when he looks down at her. “Nastya,” he pleads.

“I’m not Nastya. That’s what. I haven’t been—maybe I’ve never been Nastya, but I’m not now, and whatever the fuck I am is something that none of you know. Not Aurora, not even me. And they’re going to realize that, and what will they think then? How long will I have to watch you all mourn a Nastya who never existed every time you look at me?”

He stares down at her, mouth open but unable to form words, while she pulls her hand back to herself and curls up in the pilot’s chair, choking on a sob. There’s nothing to do but cry, when even Brian doesn’t know what to say and the camera feed keeps on going, inundating her with snapshots of a Nastya she never was. Shaky hands flicking the hair out of her face, shoulders brushing mindlessly against the walls of the ship, gaze fixed on Jonny’s ear so she doesn’t have to look him in the eyes. All of these things should add up to her, and instead she is empty.

There are thoughts building in the corners of her head, and she knows they’ll be dangerous if they can coalesce into words, but she can’t stop them. Jonny couldn’t, Ashes couldn’t, Brian can’t, Aurora—

As if she can hear Nastya thinking, a row of soft blue lights flickers on overhead. Nastya’s head snaps up, tears streaming down her temples, as every light in the room comes on in a wave, pulsing brilliant blue-white-golden over her and Brian, almost drowning out the stars ahead of them for a moment before they dim to something tolerable. When she knows she has Nastya’s attention, Aurora sings to her—sound traveling through the air, pulses of light, lines of code transmitted from the thrum of the metal underneath her and into her blood, carrying a thousand rehearsals of the same message.

I don’t care whether you’re the same Nastya, or whether I’m the same Aurora. I will get to know you again every time you wake up. I will love the person I meet more with every day. I am the one who loves you, and you are the one who loves me, and we belong here.

Nastya is crying too hard to form words, but Aurora’s song reassures her that she has nothing to defend. “Do you… want me to leave you two alone?” Brian interrupts, gesturing at the door.

It takes another minute for Nastya to calm down enough to answer him, but in that time, her hands find the control panel and, trembling, tap stream-of-consciousness binary into the metal until she knows that Aurora has once again heard her heart. “No,” she manages at last. “No, I want my family.”

Brian sweeps her into a hug, and the rest of the crew aren’t far behind.

[wolkoshka]

AN: Did I think that, for a even a moment, I would watch Vikings and not write a fic for one of my favorite characters ever? Like, did I really think--                          I keep finding old gems in my files and one of them is this fic that I was working on a year ago. Ubbe is so INTENSE I just couldnt sit there and watch him not get more love, ya know? Tags: Ubbe x OC; M for Magnificent but also Mature. Gore/Violence. Romance/Slow-Burn.

                                                      Viking Sage

CHAPTER I

             For a few hesitant moments, she sat in the perpetual chill of the Northern soil, doubts as brisk as the air she was inhaling clouding her mind.

           Perhaps she ought not follow rash impulses and heed the devil’s tune. Perhaps she ought to be reasonable and sane, for what she was to execute was no child’s play. Perhaps she even be merciful; her father always spoke grandly the trait of forgiveness for not many possessed it. Or perhaps she ought to damn it all and off with the murderer’s head, for a terrible vengeance crackled in her blood and caused fury to beat in her heart.

           Raiders, rapists, heathens, fell upon her home alike a plague and left nothing but death in their wake. Blood of her neighbours. Blood of her parents. Blood of women drawn without consent and their wombs ravaged and forced to swell. How many clots of flesh had she seen being expelled from bodies? How many limbs and cuts sewn back together to give the dead a more dignified burial? How many tears spilled over bodies of loved ones, terror-struck faces with eyes carrying wounds that not even time could heal?

          Yet, to her, nothing was more terrorizing than the absence of Tanaruz. Sweet, beautiful Tanaruz. Her blood; her heart. Her everything. She was not among the pile of bodies they left to rot; she was elsewhere, taken as a slave with the rest to serve in the land of killers.

           Dhayl craned her neck to examine one especially revered killer.

           They called him Ubbe Lothbrok, a Budlungr, son of a famous raider king Ragnar Lothbrok. His people came for her home and ripped her loved ones out of her arms. Now, blood was due upon the blade, and she had long sharpened it for the slaughter.

           At that, her anger flared, and she nodded. They would pay. Verdict made, she rose and grabbed a cup of icy water—and splashed it in the man’s face.

           The burly man came awake with a snarl, and eyes of the clearest blue, arresting her with their colour and intensity, snapped up at her. He heaved, angrily, furiously, and lurched at her—and failed. Chains bound him to a tree, and ropes hugged his legs together in his seated position on the ground.

            He was not getting a mat; he was not worthy of such comfort.

            When he realized he could not reach her, he, after a moment, to her utter surprise, settled comfortably into his chains and regarded her in silence. She at the very least expected the unchivalrous display of his discontent with a spit on the ground to her feet.

            ‘’Hm,’’ he voiced roughly, eyes quickly giving her an onceover. ‘’You do not look helpless.’’ Studying his many traits—a skilled hunter being one—she’d bated her time in the woods when he’d ventured into them to hunt for dinner. She’d cried out, pretending to be a wounded traveller, and he’d come to her, failing to understand that the then predator was truly a tricked prey.

            ‘’No,’’ Dhayl said, looking down at him. Then, she crouched; her head tilted, and she returned his examination with an examination of her own. ‘’I never was. Never will be.’’ Her fingers reached for the blood trickling down his temple—courtesy from her—and smeared it down his face. ‘’But you are. Helpless, that is. Oh, you look hopeless and at my mercy.’’

             False. He did not at all look the unable man she was making him out to be. Even chained and bleeding, he very much exuded an energy that could level an army in a heartbeat. She ought to be cautious; she had seen what this man could do first-hand. He had done it many times. Her, on the other hand? She’d never chained up a man before. Especially a lethal one, at that.

             It must be done, she reminded herself. And you must be strong. Her fingers slowly travelled up and dug in to the wound. The muscle below his eye ticked at that. ‘’Did I press a nerve? I might have had. Indeed, what king likes his wounds probed?’’

             A soft laugh escaped his throat, and then a deeper one, though that too was short-lived. They were laughs that humoured her. She did not like it. ‘’You know me.’’

            ‘’Yes. I watched you for a very long time.’’

            ‘’Have you now?’’

            ‘’Yes.’’

             ‘’And?’’

             ‘’And I thought you were perfect for questioning.’’

             ‘’Hm,’’ came the rough response again as he tilted his head forward. ‘’If you had watched me for a very long time, then you would know better than to question me.’’

             ‘’Better than most. But, no, you are exactly the right person for such an act. You are exactly what I am looking for.’’

             ‘’What makes you believe so?’’

             ‘’Call it intuition.’’

              Another rough sound. ‘’Mine says you are not walking out of these woods alive. I tend to harbour a strong adherence to mine.’’

             ‘’And I tend to wear mine around my heart. It goes off like church bells. Do you have a heart? I thought not. I win.’’

             He moved his head away from her bruising touch, and sniffed. ‘’You are not from around here.’’

            ‘’No.’’

            ‘’You are different.’’

            ‘’Hm,’’ she echoed him.

            ‘’That means you do not know my people, and you do not know this land, and you do not know what you have done.’’

            ‘’No one will find us here.’’

             ‘’Something will. The sky is getting dark. You do not see it; you do not know how the sun is in this part of the world, but I do. And I can see that you have no firewood to keep at bay things you do not want keeping you company at night. I see no shelter, no weapon but for the blade on your waist, and not enough food. But more than all, if you are not careful, an army will be upon you soon; pray to whatever god that they get to you first before I do.’’

          ‘’Get to me, then. I am right here.’’

           He arrested her with those icy-blues. ‘’Have those church bells gone off yet?’’

           She wiped the blood on her fingers on his attire before uncurling to her full height. I’m in charge here. She squared her shoulders. I have the advantage over this Viking. Despite her braving words, a danger she was not at all acquainted with glimmered behind those long, spiky lashes, and for the life of her, Dhayl could not shake off the shivers that abraded her skin.

           “It took me a long while before I could find your people, find you. Many a year I lost on my travels and searches to better myself so I could best face you. I have not come unprepared. I have come light. It only takes a slice from this knife that so feebly hangs from my waist to bleed you dry—and I will. You reign as a lawmaker, but disregard any law that befits your tastes not. It is alike cheap ale to your kind, the kind that abhors difference and demands beyond their proper share. You pillage and plunder, rape and defile, and steal what belongs to you not. Tell me one thing, Viking, and tell me this honestly if you value your life at all: a few years ago, your people fell upon my home in the Mediterranean alike a curse, and you took a girl by the name Tanaruz. Where is she?”

           It was quick as lightning, but the Viking’s brilliant eyes flashed with momentary sincerity before the expression fell away and confusion distorted his fine brows. He knew something. Dhayl was sure of it. Hope, though she fought it, as it was too early, bloomed in her chest. “We are a people of trade and travel, that is our way. To be great and established, that is our way. To be violent and bloody, that is also our way. I know not of the girl you speak; many slaves came and left our country. Many slaves we traded to other neighbouring kingdoms. We do not keep record of each ones’ names. Perhaps you mistake us, mistake me, for another.”

           “I do not!” Dhayl retaliated. “Do not take me for a fool; it is not the Vikings of Kieven Rus that came to us—they wouldn’t dare. Moreover, they are better civilized than your people, as they established proper contract of trade with our Emir before they even considered shedding blood. Ubbe Lothbrok, son of the famous raider Ragnar Lothbrok, it is your brother, Bjorn Ironside, that lead the attack on Andalusia. Your younger brother, Hvitzerk, accompanied your travels, too. You desecrated our place of worship, burned our homes, and stole our children from us. Or do I have my facts wrong? I don’t need you to answer that—I know the answer. Now, one of the girls you took happens to be my sister. I’m sure she is a grown woman now, but taking in my appearance, as we do strikingly look more alike than not, you must recall someone of such similarity.”

           “I commend your memory, but I do not.”

           She grit her teeth. “Try.”

           “Unbind me, and I will help you look for this sister of yours. Wherever it is that she may be. But you will not get anything out of me before that.”

           Dhayl inched closer to him, and the Viking merely sniffed, gazing up at her and nonchalantly shifting the weight of his legs against the binding ropes. “It appears you value your life not.” Unsheathing the blade, she inched even closer. “Trade, you say, but you could not even trade innocent information to save your own life. I do not think you were fashioned for such deals.”

           The Viking moved fast, striking his booted feet against her ankles and knocking her over. Before she could gather her bearings, a powerful kick to her temple sent her propelling to her side, and oblivion, with an overwhelming wave, washed over her as her lids fluttered shut.

 UBBE worked fast. With the tip of his boot, he kicked the blade that had fallen from her grasp closer to him. With much effort, he, with his feet and the slight bending of his knees, succeeded in planting it by his roped legs. A difficult feat, but not impossible. Striking fast and hard, he moved his ropes against its sharp side. When a few trusses fell apart, Ubbe, with a powerful flex from his legs, kicked outwards, the force of it breaking the rope completely from its sturdy bind.

           Wiggling his legs free, he instead threw them over the female’s body and dragged her to him. Inch by inch, her body slid closer to his, dirt caking her dark curls and attire. When he had her where he wanted her, he used his legs to turn her from side to side, looking for the keys to the chains she must have. He didn’t find them.

           Cursing under his breath, Ubbe worked against the iron locks and uncurled to his full height. By the time he did, his arms and back were burning from the chaffing they’d endured from both the chains and the tree. No matter, he’d known worse pains than these. These, being mere inconveniences. Gazing up, he noted the thinning of the tree’s trunk and deftly nodded.

           Until he saw the thick branches extending from it. She’d chosen a good tree.

           Gnashing his teeth, he fought against his likely fate, his exertions marring his body. He would uproot this tree if that was what was needed. For a long moment, he kept at it—until he came upon the realization that not only did the female bind him to a tree with chains, but bound him to a tree with two thick chains, for no single chain could extend as long, and, thus, tutting a finger at even the slightest notion of escape entertaining his mind.

           Resting his head against the trunk, Ubbe glanced up at the sky and shut his eyes—and laughed.

           Give me patience, All Father.

[petri808]

The Demon in Sandals

Based on this post @writing-prompt-s  for  @lovelyluce

Quick silly Nalu Drabble

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'😇😈'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

It was such a mellow day as Lucy lounged atop a floating cloud just watching the humans in the park.  Everyone was having fun.  A group of teenagers playing frisbee, little ones playing tag as their parents sit nearby on blankets chatting.  Near the edges of the grassy area, a couple of barbecue grills were going strong with delicious looking meats and skewers on top.  She rolls onto her back with a sigh and closes her eyes.  It looks like this angel could take a nap in peace.

When all of a sudden, loud shouting reaches her ears.  They were cries for help!  Lucy peers over the cloud, searching for its source and sees a hooded form accosting a woman in the parking lot.  She stands with wings a flutter, diving down to help.  But before she can make it, a small explosion causes her to pull off and bank away from the rising cloud of ash.  What just happened?!

Lucy zips past the smoky air using her other senses and lands nearby.  She can see a third figure… ‘What is a demon doing here?!’  Knowing the trouble, they could cause, Lucy sprints towards them, but just as she reaches the scene, what she sees flies against everything she’s ever known.  The demon has the hooded figure by the neck and lifted off the ground!

“How dare you hurt this woman under my watch,” it growls at the person and tears the hood off to reveal an older male.

‘His… watch?!’  Lucy tips her head in confusion.  Who is this demon, with his weird pink hair and ratty clothes?  ‘Is he wearing sandals?’  She’s never seen a demon like this one before, but his horns and other features were indicative of one.

The demon grabs the woman’s purse from the bad man’s grip and hands it to her.  She thanks him and rushes away, probably frightened by everything that was happening.  What human wouldn’t be?  First, she’s robbed, then a creature with horns comes to the rescue.  It was like some bad or weird dream come to life!  Which is why angels were the guardians of this realm, not demons!

Lucy gathers her resolve and stomps over.  “Hey, demon boy, what do you think you’re doing scaring everyone by showing up in this realm and making a mess?!”  She waves her hands at the small crater and broken earth where he’d come out of.

“Oh, look,” he sneers back, “a high and mighty angel.  Well you’re too late, I already helped the woman and I’m about to kill this man.”  He raises his clawed hand ready to rip into the man’s throat.

“Whoa!  Stop!”  Lucy quickly grabs the demon’s hand.  “That’s not how things are done with humans!  We take him and drop him off to their authority figures to deal with.”

The demon narrows his eyes, “he deserves no mercy when hell is his next stop.”

Lucy rips the man away from the demon.  “We’re in charge in the realm, so I say he goes to the human authorities.”

“No!”  The demon yanks the man back.

“Yes!”  She grabs hold of the man’s arm.

“Oi!”  The demon pulls on the other, “I’m trying to help do the right thing here!”

“And I…”  Lucy pulls back, “am helping to do the right thing!”

The poor bad guy is the tug of war rope between the angel and demon.  They both want to help humans, but in their own way.  An angel never kills unless it is the only option, while a demon will strike down any it sees as hell bound.  Though, Lucy has to admit, this was the first time she’s ever seen a demon rescue a human.

“Look you demon!”

“I have a name, angel, it’s Natsu.”

“Well, Natsu, I understand you’re trying to help, okay?  But we can’t just go around killing humans!  That’s not how it works!”

“Why not?”  Natsu shrugs, “he’s hell bound, so might as well speed up the process.”

“I’m going to hell?!”  The man tries to fight their hold to no avail.  “I’m really going to hell?!!”

“Yeah,” Natsu yanks on his arm.

“No,” Lucy yanks the other.

“Yes, he is.”

“Not today he isn’t.”

“But, angel, why make this so hard!  He’s scum that doesn’t deserve to live!”

“Scum or not, it’s not his time yet.”

“Ugh!  Fine!”  Natsu whines and let’s go of the man.

“You wait here while I turn this man in, cause I ain’t done talking to you yet.”

“Oh, no, I’m coming with you.”  He didn’t know her enough, what if the man escaped?

Instead of arguing, Lucy just rolls her eyes and drags the man with her towards a nearby phone booth to call the authorities.  Meanwhile, Natsu stands to the side with his arms crossed keeping his eye on the bad man.  He stares the man down.

“M-Mister demon… A-Am I really going to hell?”

“You ain’t no saint, so yeah.”

“I only do petty crimes.  I’ve never hurt anyone for real.”

“Yes, you do.”  Natsu growls at the stupid response.  “What if the money you stole was all that woman had and she wouldn’t be able to eat or feed her children?  Maybe the cell phone in her purse was a lifeline to a sick relative she cares for, that dies because they can’t reach her.  Stupid human.  No matter the size or scope, it still hurts people.”

Lucy finally finishes her call just as Natsu says his peace.  “You can still change your fate.  Start living the right way, stop hurting, but helping people instead, and maybe you’ll cheat hell.”

The authorities eventually arrive and take the man away, leaving the angel and demon alone again.

“Tell me Natsu, why did you help that woman?  Demons don’t help, they hurt humans.  Why are you so different from the others?”

“I don’t know.”  He shrugs.  “I just don’t unless they deserve it.  Maybe I’m tired of only hurting people.”

Lucy taps her chin.  Now that she’s had a little time to process everything that had happened.  Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.  The reaction of that bad man of hearing about his fate, may have made him think twice about his second chance.  If he turns a new leaf, it makes her job easier and the humans around him will benefit from it.

“I must say, while I abhorred your methods…”  Lucy smiles, “you may have just changed that man’s life for the better.”

An ear-to-ear smile morph’s onto Natsu’s face. “So, I helped him?!”

“I think you did,” her eyes crinkle from a wider smile.

“Yes!”  He pumps his fists in the air.  “We made a good team!  Err, um what’s your name?”

She laughs, “it’s Lucy.”

Natsu grins.  “Well Lucy, expect to see more of me cause I think we should partner up.  I scare um, you set um straight!”

Lucy laughs again.  “Oh, boy, this sounds like it’s gonna be fun…”  What did she just get herself into?!

[thewickling]

I had this idea floating around my head and I don't really plan on writing it but I want to release this 3zun into the ether.

Possible Tags: Canon Compliant, Arranged Marriage, Post-First Siege of the Burial Mounds, Canon Divergence - Thirteen Years of Wei Wuxian's Death, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Political Drama, Eventual Polyamorous Relationships, MDZS Compliant

Premise: Madam Jin leverages her position to marry Jin Guangyao off to a sect-rate sect to wholly cut him off from Lanling Jin's sect leader position - LXC and NMJ interfer.

NMJ discovers that XY is only imprisoned and not executed. He prepares to march to Jinlingtai and force them to correct this. He runs into Lan Xichen who is very much did you hear?

Lan Xichen informs Nie Mingjue that Madam Jin plans to marry Jin Guangyao. Tradition and everything means they can't interfer directly without some complicated sect politics fall out. Nie Mingjue doesn't really care but Lan Xichen stops him from being rash.

Obviously, the option is if one of them marries JGY. Between LXC and NMJ, marrying a male spouse has a bigger impact on Lan Xichen's reputation than Nie Mingjue's.

Nie Mingjue does the "okay so if you're looking for someone to marry JGY off to, give him to me". JGS is greedy enough to accept the better proposal.

(Why Nieyao first? If I was treating 3zun like 3 sets of equations, Nielan and Xiyao are easier to solve starting off but opening either a semi-established relations to a JGY/NMJ later is harder. Basically solve the harder line of it first and then squishing LXC seemed seem better in the long run).

You know how LXC teaches JGY the Song of Clarity to get Nieyao to bond? Well, now LXC teaches it help faciliate their marriage :3 JGY actually plays it properly because now his life is tied to NMJ's. We get a bonus, less tempermental NMJ.

There's an uneasy peace in the Unclean Realm where NMJ mostly ignores JGY and JGY tries subtly manipulate NMJ while stablizing his position within the Nie Sect.

That peace breaks when NMJ catches wind of the Jin Sect trying to suppress the Chang Clan to avoid executing Xue Yang. JGY is very obviously attempting to balance his position as a Jin as a NMJ's spouse to stop NMJ from storming Lanling. The fakeness sets off NMJ.

"Stop flitting about, Meng Yao. Don't put on an act in front of me," Nie Mingjue says, swatting the air. "Your thing stopped fazing me ages ago."

"[sic JGY's commentary on class and privilige]. Jin Guangshan would rather bring another illegitimate child back than want me to succeed him! Madam Jin would rather marry me off than allow me to remain in her household."

"Why care about their opinions? They've casted you aside," he says, crossing his arms. His gaze is sharp and harsh but Jin Guangyao cannot recall when has it last been kind to him.

He hisses, "A well fed man believes not the man who starves! I admit my face is thin. How can it be thick? No one bothers to turn their head before they remark on my upbringing."

"Become great," Nie Mingjue states so plainly it pierces. "Make it so everyone who speaks Jin Guangshan's name instead thinks it's a shame that he never acknowledged you. That Madam Jin was shortsighted to marry you off. Why must you mind others? Silence them with your ability."

"What can I achieve? The little progress I made has been thrown into disorder. Who dares deals with me? It's clear I have no support in Lanling." Jin Guangyao spits, "It's obvious to everyone that my husband married me out of obligation. That you depise me. That you rather I vanish. May I ask, how can I achieve anything under these circumstances?"

"Lan Huan clearly favors you. And you're mistaken. I wasn't forced into this marriage," he says.

"I don't know how er-ge convinced you, but it's clear. You hate me." That word slides out more of a sob than an accusation. "Da-ge, I've always wanted to asked - why can't I be forgiven? Both our hands are stained so why do you bring up my desperate actions over and over?"

"I have never raised my saber for personal gain." His brusque manner relays how self-assured he is.

"If I understand correctly, then you say all of the people you killed deserved their deaths?" he laughs, "Then you must abhor me. I can never meet your standards. My hands can never be clean. If you find me so unpleasant, why did you marry me? If I am so unforgivable, why did you ever agree to be my sworn brother?"

"Do you believe anyone can force me into a decision? Whether it was brotherhood or marriage, do you believe anyone would?" he asks, turning his chin up. "No one can make me yield. I agreed for..."

He knows himself. Nie Mingjue accepted the rites to gain some influence over Jin Guangyao. If Lan Xichen were right, there was still room to correct Jin Guangyao's course. But why did he give Jin Guangyao that second chance? Why did he offer him a third? This isn't like him.

Why are you my exception? Nie Mingjue wonders, but says, "I didn't do this to spite you."

Jin Guangyao stills. This is the most ground he's seen Chifeng-zun give to anyone. His mind re-awakens and be pounces.

He questions, "So if I follow your path and risk my ties with the Jin Sect, can we agree to put our pasts behind us and try?"

"I haven't forgiven you."

Jin Guangyao's smile stiffens. "I know. I suspect you never will, but you won't ever convince me on the merits of justice and righteousness for its own sake..."

He slows at the firm set of Nie Mingjue's jaw. He redirects. No, he disarms himself. "Merit and justice won't move me when that seems as prone to temptation as my ambition."

"Meng Yao," Nie Mingjue hisses.

"You ask me to not lie," he grasps Nie Mingjue's hand. "Abstract concepts like that... They can't convince me of anything. If I said otherwise, I'd painting my words in the way you despise."

He inhales sharply. Somehow speaking plainly tastes strange on his tongue. He struggles to arrange his thoughts. He sighs, "I will never be the marriage partner you wished for. We've both done things the other can't accept... Don't forgive me but put it in our past... We understood each other once."

"Can try?" Jin Guangyao flattens his thoughts. "Can we try? I will do my part. Promise to try to understand me?"

And accept me, he thinks, but that never leaves his throat.

Nie Mingjue steps away and it's like he's been thrown down a thousand steps again.

Over his shoulder, he states, "I'll tell Zhonghui to put the conference organization in your hands."

This is their turning point. The first time they've both faced each other and listened in years. Nieyao obviously butt heads a lot but their communication gradually improves. JGY convinces NMJ not to storm Lanling and instead let him try to convince the other sects to pressure JGS.

NMJ gives JGY until the martial conference before he'll do something himself.

LXC visits throughout this period but his force is mainly on rebuilding parts of his sect. He does help JGY convince the other sects to pressure JGS into executing XY.

LXC watches JGY and NMJ get along and at first he's happy but he quickly feels left out. When he realizes that, he becomes ashamed of himself.

Before the trio can confront JGS, he announces at the conference that XY will be executed X time and anyone he doubts his word can witness it themselves.

XY is executed. People see his face. Something about how performative it, how XY moves plans a seed of doubt in JGY but he can't figure out what is off - other than JGS wants the Tiger seal too much to give XY up so easily.

JGY is side-tracked trying to get NMJ to support his watchtower plans. When NMJ finally agrees, JGY focuses on the logistics and getting other sects on board.

We get Nieyao's relationship improving and NMJ realizes his desires first. Unlike LXC, NMJ realizes his feelings, accepts them, and then acts on them nearly instantenously.

JGY does the logical thing when finding out the da-ge that once wanted you dead is like join me in bed - he runs and visits (hides) in the Cloud Recesses for a few days under the guise of watchtower discussions.

LXC notices JGY is distracted and they talk. Upon learning NMJ cares for JGY, LXC feels a pain in his chest. He encourages JGY to act on his heart and points out how NMJ and JGY balance each other out. He obviously wishes them happiness.

JGY decides to give the relationship a chance. As NMJ and JGY's relationship becomes more sincere, LXC pulls away from them.

When LXC realizes his feelings, he struggles. He obviously can't be so terrible as break up their marriage and he can't so shameless to impose on their time insincerely. He thinks of his mother and his father and just sort of falls into a bad spiral.

Okay so while running around trying to convince other sects, JGY notices that the number of missing people has gone up. He goes to the Cloud Recesses and notices something is up with LXC. When LXC doesn't share, he becomes worried and tags in NMJ. As they both invite LXC over more and try to provide help JGY figures out why LXC is like this.

He thinks about it and decides he hasn't fallen for NMJ yet (he's fond of NMJ of course but he wouldn't call it love) and he is no more opposed to LXC than he is to NMJ. He considers his way forward.

Baixue Temple Massacre happens. JGY understands why the execution seems strange to him. XY resisted too well. XY's cultivation is even poorer than JGY - he relies entirely on yin energy. It also clicks that the missing people are because of JGS.

Extremely obviously, everyone but LLJ do an impromptu conference. JGY leverages everything that occurred to get everyone to agree to his tower plans once this over.

JGS has been hermorraging support from the other sects for a while and since JGY has been negiogating with Jiang, Lan, Yu, and other sects for awhile they all support giving Jin Sect and ultimumun and then taking him down.

Before Jin Sect push forward a scapegoat and all publically chase off and kill XY [make it unclear whether XY lives or dies].

Political manuevours make it so that Sects joint ventures will be organized by commitee instead lead by a Chief Cultivator. Jin Sect is forced to pay up for the towers.

You know how there's a limited number of bachelors? All parents with daughters realize "hey so the only big shot sect leaders left are JC and LXC" and then throw their daughters and LXC.

LXC is very very very distressed. It would be insincere of himself to marry when his heart so clearly belongs to others but it is his responsibility to secure an heir for his sect. The sooner he marries, the quicker at ease Lan QIren and the other elders would be. Perhaps he should marry to restrain the shameless desires he has in his heart. Yet he does so, that would be justice to his future wife.

Okay this is where I got stuck (again) because honestly getting LXC to realize his feelings is straightforward, getting him to act on them is hard. He will just suffer silently.

You know what [inserts the author gets to make a forceful step forward]. NMJ is annoyed by all the women surrounding LXC. JGY sees this and after much thought and consideraton decides he wants both NMJ and LXC. He does his best to guide NMJ around to the same thoughts as him.

While all the romance plotty stuff is going on and the trying to get LXC married, like literally everyone - everyone finds JGS sus. Gusu Lan, Qinghe Nie, Yunmeng Jiang, and Meishan Yu under the guise of organizing the watch towers investigate Lanling Jin. They quickly realize that even if XY isn't there that LLJ obviously still has the tiger seal so they start planning a mission to steal the tiger seal.

Their plans work out. The tiger seal is in Qinghe Nie's hands. The Jin Sect is more or less dropping out of power. The four most powerful sects shift to be Gusu Lan, Qinghe Nie, Yunmeng Jiang, and Meishan Yu.

Extremely outraged, Jin Guangshan basically is an idiot and instead of waiting for time to pass so he can regain the LLJ's reputation, he very much targets JGY and tries kill him while he's traveling to supervise the watch tower construction.

JGY goes missing.

LXC feels guilty because he was supposed join JGY but shrugged it off because he was being an angsty bean about his feelings.

Because no one else can stop, LXC is grabbed to stop NMJ from straight up going into LLJ and beheading JGS immediately. NMJ very angry and pissed questions LXC and reveals that JGY likes him and that he thought he did too but LXC like this hurts his eyes.

Cue much higher levels of angst for LXC - but since JGY is gone LXC has to play Clarity for NMJ so they have to spend time together. NMJ refuses to let LXC act he doesn't know about everyone's feelings.

Because I'm terrible planning up to the ending skips. JGS is dead. JGY has been found (but like NMJ & LXC more or less believe JGY caused JGY to die). LLJ sect is in ruins but headed by Madam Jin as regent for Jin Ling.

JC, JGY, and Meishan Yu head basically make it clear that the only reason the Jin Sect still exists is because of their mercy. The only reason they are merciful is because JL. If she dares stirs the waters, they can change things.

LXC tells their elders he doesn't plan to marry any time soon. He's still young. He's young enough that they can't really force him to marry yet. He is very much in a relationship with Nieyao - a budding one and they're still ironing things out.

So this is very choppy and not ironed out because rough outline and thinking things up as I go. Maybe this fic does exist out there somewhere.

I think one of the other reasons I don't think I'd write this is I'd want to figure out a way to leave it open for Wangxian to still happen which unless MXY is driven to summon WWX doesn't work.

[fleetingfigures]

Layers upon Layers: Saerno

LAYER ONE: THE OUTSIDE

Name: “Saerno Glista”

Eye Color: “I’m looking right at you... How about you use your own eyes to see?”

Hair Style/Color: “Black.” The Keeper responds brusquely. “And usually not this long, though I do have to admit that the style’s been growing on me. Perhaps I’ll keep it akin to this when I get it chopped.”

Height: “6 fulms even, or was it 1 ilm extra? Ah, I can’t remember...” (1.82m)

Clothing Style: “Depends, really. When I’m by myself I enjoy just wearing whatever’s comfiest. While I’m out and about, though, I prefer a more tailored appearance. I won’t be caught dead in something that doesn’t fit.”

Best Physical Feature: “Usually I leave that up to whoever’s asking.~” Saerno teases. “But if I were to choose myself, I’m rather fond of my eyes.”

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

Your Fears: “Nothing too out there, I assure you. Ask any Eorzean what it is they fear and I’m certain their response will be a mirror of my own.”

Your Guilty Pleasure: “Romance Novels, the trashy kind. I used to abhor such literature but... Loneliness is one hell of a motivator.”

Your Biggest Pet Peeve: “Too many to sort through.”

Your Ambition for the Future: “Find someone to call my own.”

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

Your First Thoughts Waking Up: “What wonderful time did I awake at today?”

What You Think About the Most: “The negatives of a situation, mostly. It’s a way to prepare, to lower the chances of something actually terrible happening.”

What You Think About Before Bed: “How much sleep I’m going to get.”

You Think Your Best Quality Is: “Adaptability? Now I’m not saying to drop me off onto the other side of the world, but I like to think I’ve enough screws right in my head that I can adjust to most situations.”

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

Single or Group Dates: Saerno lets out a bark of laughter. “Single, hands down. Group dates are much too reminiscent of my teenage years.”

To be Loved or Respected: “Respect can’t be bought, and some would argue that love is the opposite, but the truth is that both are equally as hard to garner. That being said, the rational side of me wishes to be respected, yet almost everything else wishes for the other. I suppose that I’d rather be loved, in that case.”

Beauty or Brains: “Why not both?” The man flips his hair and offers a coy wink your way.

Dogs or Cats: “I feel that I have to answer cats.”

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?

Lie: “...Now why would I of all people do that. Absolutely preposterous.”

Believe in Yourself: “Clawed my way out of a lot of things, so I guess that requires some self-confidence.”

Believe in Love: “Life without love would be terribly boring.”

Want Someone: “Someone specific? No. The mere idea? Can’t deny that I’ve thought of it quite often.”

LAYER SIX: EVER?

Been on Stage: “A few times. Think I’d enjoy it more if I made a living off of it, but that’s not the path I chose. Maybe I’ll make a habit of it in the future, who knows...”

Done Drugs: “Yes. My first jobs were quite ahh... Interesting. Definitely a learning experience.”

Changed Who You Were to Fit In: “ In the past, more than I’d like to admit. Presently, I try to avoid falling into those pitfalls.”

LAYER SEVEN: FAVORITES

Favorite Color: “A dark blue. I believe the dyemongers call it Midnight Blue?”

Favorite Animal: “Seals! They’re delightfully plump.”

Favorite Food: “My years in Hingashi have taught me the wonder of Sushi. Though, I believe I prefer what they called ‘maki’ to ‘nigiri’.”

Favorite Game: “As common as it is, I’ve a soft spot for triple triad. Still even have a collection of cards from my younger days. And, well... A few gil here and there to buy a random pack isn’t breaking my bank, now is it?”

LAYER EIGHT: AGE

Day Your Next Birthday Will Be: “6th Sun of the 4th Astral Moon. I’ll be expecting a gift via postmoogle.”

How Old Will You Be: “25 summers.”

Age You Lost Your Virginity: “Let’s keep that bit of info for another day, yes?”

Does Age Matter: “In friendships, no, I don’t believe the summers of difference can discredit the bond two people can feel. But, in the case of relationships, I almost require my partner to be at least somewhere in my age group. Otherwise it’d feel quite weird...”

LAYER NINE: IN A BOY OR GIRL

Best Personality: “Independent, cunning, yet has a softer side, one that can indulge in their littlest of whims, uncaring of the questions it might cause.”

Best Eye Color: “As long as I remember it, it’s good.”

Best Hair Color: “...I’m rather fond of crimson locks.”

Best thing to do with a Partner: The arcanist closes his eyes as he leans his head back. “Just simple things, really. To laugh, to create, to be merry... It’s a blissful existence, one that makes you forget the world we live in.”

LAYER TEN: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I love: “how far I’ve come.”

I feel: “better than I did.”

I hide: “because it’s what I’m used to.”

I miss: “what could have been.”

I wish: “that things could be much simpler than they are.”

tagged by: @ffxiv-sunderedsouls​ (Finally got to it!) tagging: Laziness overtakes me... Go wild peeps.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: We fight way too much

“Are you going to ask him or chicken out again?” Manti sighed.“Will you shut up already. I’m asking him about it at lunch today.” Her friends giggled and said they’d join her. She wasn’t entirely sure why they would be joining her but she imagined they were tagging along just to get fresh gossip about their new human crew mate. Manti’s people, a humanoid alien species much like Humanity with the exception of ocean blue skin and pitch black eyes, had agreed on a cultural exchange program and had exchange volunteers so they could better understand one another. The human that was now on board Manti’s ship was named Jacob Flint, a friendly soft spoken person who had quickly become a close friend. Despite seeing him first hand her friends warned her to stay away from the human, saying things like they were all murderous bloodthirsty killers. She found that description somewhat hard to believe after seeing Jacob spend some twenty minutes attempting to kill a fly that had been flying around his cabin all the while swearing at the top of his lungs and knocking over his belongings in his frantic attempt to squish the buzzing fiend. That changed however when they shared with her some reading material they had gathered from the information web. They were documents recording horrific events of humans known as the “French Revolution” and “World War I”. She read the provided material and was shocked at the sheer brutality. Heads mounted on pikes, people murdered with poisonous gasses, millions dying all for what Manti saw as pointless reasons. Manti’s people abhorred violence and in their entire history as a species had never gone to war with members of her own species.  After knowing Jacob for so long, with his warm smile and caring nature, she couldn’t believe that these were real and had worked up the courage to ask him about them. Surely they were fake events made by her friends to scare her away from Jacob. --------------------------

She found Jacob in the mess hall sitting at a table alone reading from a data pad between fork filled bites of his food.  Her friends were already there and upon seeing her went over to join her.  “Go on then.” “We believe in you!” They said, giggling.  Manti sighed again and together all three of them went to Jacob’s table. As they approached Jacob looked up and saw Manti and waved to her.  “Hell- *cough*” Jacob tried to speak but choked on the food still in his mouth. He smacked his chest for a few seconds before catching his breath. “Death by potatoes, not how I pictured going out.” Manti smiled, “You should probably know then that those aren’t potatoes.” Jacbo stopped and looked down at his food. “Then what the hell are they?” Manti shrugged, “They can’t be pronounced in your tongue I’m afraid.” Jacob put his fork down and gently shoved his plate to the side as if it had suddenly become toxic. “If I can’t say it right then it has no place in my mouth.”  Manti started to laugh but her friend nudged her in the side. “Would you all like to join me then?” Jacob said motioning to the empty seats across from him. “Thanks, we’d be happy to.” The three of them sat down across from him. “There’s actually something we’d like to ask you.” Jacob sighed loudly. “For the last time, no, I do not know Justin Bieber or that guy from Twilight. They’re both very much dead and trying to get something of theirs for you is considered grave robbing on my planet.”  Manti was puzzled for a moment. “No, we wanted to ask you about something else.” “Oh thank bloody god. One care package from another human gets shared and suddenly they’re a cultural hit with your people.” Jacob said as he threw his hands up in the air, “They’re not even great at what they do.” One of Manti’s friends slammed her hand down on the table. “Justin Bieber is an icon, don’t you go talking smack about him.” she said with a dead serious stare. Jacob just stuck out his tongue and made a “Phbbbt” sound.  Trying to regain control of this runaway conversation, Manti continued with her question. “My friends seem to think your people are blood thirst murders after they read some documents online about events called the “French Revolution” and a “World War I”.” Jacob nodded his head and shifted in his seat. “Clearly these events are false but I wanted you to tell them that so the air could be cl-” “No those events are real Manti.”  Jacobs words stopped Manti’s train of thought. “This....this is some of your human humor yes? You’re just “messing” with us, right?” Manti asked, a sudden tingling sensation running down her spine. Jacob shook his head. “No, those events are real and did happen.” “I...” Manti couldn’t find the words to describe how shocked she was, but her friends didn’t seem to suffer such a setback. “So it’s true your people had a world war?” “Oh yeah. In fact, we like it so much that in roughly 21 years after the first one ended we had and even bigger second one which we called “World War II”.” Jacob was being slightly sarcastic with the statement but that was lost on the group of women. “Some would argue that we had a third world war as well, but since there weren’t any big battles on the scale of the previous two it got changed to the “Cold War”.” “So your people fought the weather this time?” Manti’s friend asked mockingly. Jacob cocked his head to the side and smirked. “Nah, it was more spy warfare. So instead of giant battles on beaches and in cities you had people being strangled with piano wire in their homes or being fed cyanide capsules in their food.” The mocking expression on Manti’s friend vanished replaced with one of utter disgust.  “And...and these were the only conflicts your people had?” Manti’s question a vain last hope to maintain the image she had painted of humanity with her friend Jacob as the starting point. To her surprise Jacob laughed. “Hell no. We’ve had countless wars beside the ones mentioned.” Before Manti could respond Jacob brought up his data pad and ran a quick search. “Let’s see here. The Football War, the 6 Day War, the War of Spanish Succession, the 100 Years War, the American Revolution, the Chinese Civil War, the Punic Wars,” Jacob continued reading off wars fought between humans while Manti looked on in horror, “the Russian Civil War, the Mongolian conquests, the Crusades, The Nika Riots, The War of the Stray Dog, the Trojan War, War of the Three Kingdoms, the Opium Wars, the-”  “Stop it, stop it, stop it!” Manti cried out.  The surrounding people all looked at from her sudden outburst for a moment before returning to their previous task. One of her friends tried to place a hand on her shoulder but Manti shrugged it off at once. “It’s all true, isn’t it?” Manti’s voice soft as she directed the question at Jacob, “You really are all murders...”  “Well,” Jacob began saying, “we’re not totally terrible people.” “Did you not just hear yourself as you listed off all those wars your people have had!?!?” Manti’s voice now slightly angered thinking Jacob was truly ignorant to his peoples horrific deeds. “And at times for such stupid reasons! A war fought over a stray dog??!!”  Jacob calmly looked at his data pad. “A Greek soldier was shot and killed by Bulgarian soldier after crossing the border between the countries while chasing after their dog. So probably more about a soldier being murdered then about the dog itself.” Manti was shocked and outraged with how easily Jacob could state the reason. “And the Football War?!?” He looked down at his pad again. “The football game was the tipping point for years of tension that had been building between two nations. One being heavily overpopulated and its people illegally immigrating over the border into the neighboring country that would then sometimes violently deport them back.” “The 100 Year War?!?” “A series of battles fought over a century to determine the rightful ruler of two nations.” “The Nika Riots!?!?” Jacob paused to read again and laughed slightly. “Well, this one is kinda stupid but it started after the Emperor Justinian refused to let two sports team members free because they were sentenced to death so the team’s fans banded together and started a massive riot while fighting the royal guard and attempting to crown a new Empe-” “ENOUGH!” Manti slammed her hands down to silence Jacob. “Your people will find any reason or excuse to fight with each other for the sake of your blood lust then afterwards had the audacity to laugh at the reasons you made up as foolish in the first place!” Manti’s hands were trembling, tears welling up in her eyes as she realized her friend wasn’t whom she thought he was. “Humans are all monsters...murdering monsters....”  For a long time the room went silent, not only at the table but with everyone around them as they had begun listening in on the conversation themselves. Many thought Jacob would have some outburst and attempt to attack Manti for her accusations and readied themselves to step in and stop the barbaric human.  Jacob said nothing as he gently put down his data pad and pulled his plate of food back over again. He took the fork and played with the seemingly potatoes, shoving it from one side of his plate to the other as if waiting for it to suddenly attack him.  “Yes.” He began, his voice calm and collected. “My people do tend to fight a lot.” He continued playing with his food. “We have countless years spilling each others blood on our planet that some say that our Africa’s soil is red because of how much blood has been soaked into the soil.” His fork scooping up a bit and bringing it to eye level for a moment before going into his mouth. “But,” he spoke while chewing, “sometimes fighting is all we can do to move forward as a species.”  Manti looked up at him. “That is a lie. Violence is not an answer, just look at my people! We have lived just as long as you and have never had reason for conflict.” “And there in lies your problem.” Jacob said while swallowing and pointing his fork at Manti. “Your people have lived on a single continent that has always been abundant with resources for easily a thousand times your current population.” He spun his data pad around to Manti to take a look at. “My people were spread out and divided with vastly different situations.Who are you to compare the two of us and still judge me?”  Manti looked at the data pad and saw the planet Earth. It’s landscapes alien to her and wildly different from what she had grown up surrounded by on her planet. She shook her head. “You could have come together.” She stated. “You could have banded together and resolved your differences.” Jacob nodded. “But what if some people didn’t want to resolve their differences?”  The very idea was as alien to Manti as Jacob was. He tapped the data pad. “The French Revolution you brought up, was the result of an ever increasing gap between the poorest and the richest in the nation of France. The poor were struggling for decades to make ends meet despite wars, famines, and ever increasing taxes; while the rich lived it up without a care in the world. Every time the poor and rich would come together to try and resolve the crisis poor found that the rich didn’t want anything changed because it would threaten their way of life, even though the rich were maybe 300,000 in population and the poor were some 27 million.” He opened a file for her showing depictions of the poor french tending to dead fields while the rich lived in luxurious manors. “Realizing that change would never happen peacefully, the poor rose up and revolted across the entire nation in the hope that through their actions their lives would be bettered.” “And the heads on pikes?” She retorted. “How did that make their lives better?” Jacob became solemn for a moment, his carefree expression gone. “Picture for me that your holding your starving child, their tiny bodies nothing but skin and bone as you’d been unable to buy or find any food. Imagine looking at them as they gazed up at you with pleading eyes, begging eyes, eyes that tell you that they don’t want to die, that they want to live and spend a life together with you. Then imagine those eyes suddenly glazing over and the warmth fading from their tiny frail bodies as they leave their mortal coil; and as you lay their cradling your dead child, picture that just down the road is your landlord so fat and plump from the feasts he’s held every night because he doesn’t have to pay taxes like you do and can buy all the food they need and them some.”  The picture was too vivid for Manti and even more so for her friends who began wrapping their arms around themselves, eyes on the verge of crying. She looked up at Jacob who was staring at her directly. “Would you not want to carve up that landlord and all his ilk for murdering your precious child?” His gaze shifted around the room at the onlookers. “Wouldn’t any of you want to see them dead?” he asked a bit louder. The listeners all shifted their eyes away, unable to meet his gaze.  He reached out for the data pad and Manti slowly returned it to him. “I’m not saying the wars my people have fought are sensible, nor am I saying that all of them began for legitimate reasons. Some were fought on the beliefs of madmen and monsters. War is not a subject that can always be labeled with black and white, good and evil. Everyone believes they are the good guys, everyone believes their cause is just.” He began to rise and walk over to Manti.  “What I take away from it all is that when humans are backed up against a wall and their only course left for them is to put their life on the line they will run head first into the fires of war to protect what matters most. A nation, a flag, a plot of land, a loved one, a religion, a belief, and even at times a friend.”  She looked up at him and saw his smile back on his face. He gently placed his hand on her head and ruffled her hair the way he knew she liked causing her to let out a soft giggle.   “So, you would go to war over me then?” she asked without even realizing it before blushing in embarrassment. He laughed and ruffled her hair some more. “Manti, if someone hurt you what I would do to them would have me hauled off to court for war crimes.” She felt the sentiment was sweet, but after what she had read she didn’t know how to respond so just smiled instead.  “Now if you ladies will excuse me, I need to have a word with your cook and see if I can get some real potatoes.” He waved goodbye and left the cafeteria, the on lookers parting as he past by. Manti watched him leave before turning back to her friends. “So did you get enough gossip then?” They just looked at each other and smiled. “Oh yeah, plenty of juicy bits.” The other nodded. “It started off way darker than I thought it would go, but near the end it almost got touching and honestly I think that was Jacob’s attempt of hitting on you.”  Manti looked on in surprise. “What?!?! How did you two get that????” Both of them just nodded. “He said he’d go to war over you.” “Sounds pretty up there for human romance if you ask me.” “So wait, was this actually about warning me about human war making, or were you just trying to hook us up together?”  Both smiled and stood to leave. “Little of both honestly.” “Wheels within wheels Manti. Wheels within wheels...”