#okay so i wear socks to bed please don’t come at me it’s because sensory issues

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 21 - Amazon Position]

Pairing: Good Boy!Seokjin x GFD!Reader

Kinks: protected vaginal sex, oral (f.receiving), multiple orgasms, praise, nippleplay & sucking, sensory deprivation, handjob, vaginal fingering, anal fingering (m.receiving), Jinnie being a whiney mess, giggly aftercare

Wordcount: 4.9k

a/n: i feel like irl!jinnie is actually into getting folded in half during sex, he gives me those vibes. and i am loving that he does fnadsf. also the domestic softness in this has me swooning omfg have fun besties 🖤

Seokjin lifts his head from between your legs, brown hair ruffled and puffy lips drenched in your sweetness. He is breathing heavily, fingers groping the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Fucking hell”, you get out and sigh, rolling your head to the side in exhaustion. Your head is pounding and your pussy is throbbing as a result of your orgasm dying down slowly.

“One more?” he asks, eyes glued to your puffy, wet lips and tongue aching for another taste of them.

“Just…” you spread your legs further, “...don't ask, do it.”

Seokjin goes down on you with a moan, eyes falling closed in bliss and fingers slipping back inside just to curl right against your g-spot. It is so swollen and sensitive already, courtesy of the five orgasms he has tickled out of you by now. Number six is very well on its way and knowing your terribly hot boyfriend, it won’t be the last of this morning.

“Mhhhm fucking hell”, you groan, chasing him just as much as you are fleeing him. You love and hate this. You are in heaven and hell. Your clit is so incredibly sensitive that even just the slightest touch of his tongue makes you flinch and yet you don’t want him to stop. Riding on overstimulation is so goddamn addicting with Seokjin.

Seokjin soothes you with soft kisses each time you flinch, slowing down his tempo until your thighs stop trembling and your tummy stops clenching. And only then he begins anew, dancing his warm tongue over your clit while his fingers move against your g-spot. 

Seokjin woke up horny today. He couldn’t even deny it with the huge morning wood he was sporting. Now bear in mind, Seokjin is sporting a proud boner on most mornings, but today it was of horny nature and not just a simple natural reaction. You decided to wear the socks he got for you for your anniversary last week and you looked so goddamn sexy in them that Seokjin couldn’t help but ask you in his sweetest voice if he could have you. You said yes of course because Seokjin is incredible in whatever he does in bed and you were horny yourself. No particular reason other than that you are dating the most handsome and sexiest man in history and his slightly raspy morning voice did way too many things to you. 

So one hour later, here you were. Short five orgasms, close to your sixth and with your naked body sticky in sweat. Seokjin climaxed too. Just once – for now – as a result of rutting against the mattress too much and rubbing himself sensitive. Not that this stopped him from continuing to grind, hips chasing the friction of the sheets as his mouth continued to please you. The sheets will never compare to your pussy, but he has soaked them so much already that they come pretty close. Wet, warm, soft. Just like your pussy if he fantasised hard enough. 

“Okay fuck, baby you’re making-”, a gasp, “cum.”

Seokjin swirls his tongue and gives you a throaty mewl, sending vibrations through you. It is enough to send you over the edge.

You moan and crumble under his tongue, covering his pretty face in a new layer of your juices. You can feel it everywhere. From the tips of your toes to the top of your head, trembling like crazy. Seriously, Seokjin gives the best goddamn orgasms. Without a doubt.

Seokjin slurps hungrily, moaning right with you as you shake in bliss. He loves making you cum. It’s so sexy to him.

You come down with a gentle tug at his hair, making him lift his head. There you are. Once again with a pounding head and a throbbing pussy. 

“One more?” he asks, eyes sparkly and glued to your soaked core.

“Give me a second”, you croak, seeing nothing but blurriness and hearing the blood rush in your ears, "jesus fuck."

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, just…phew”, you say and exhale loudly.

Seokjin chuckles, kissing a path up your body until he can nuzzle into your neck. Like this, his hard cock is rubbing right against your inner thigh. Wet and covered in his creamy cum, it leaves marks of his desperation on your skin. 

“Did I do good?” he asks. 

“Yes, you did amazing”, you say, running your finger through his soft hair even if moving any inch of your body is hard.

“You always taste so good. I'm so happy”, he says, kissing your jawline, “and horny”, he adds in a whisper, mewling softly as he grinds his cock against you.

“I can feel that, yeah”, you say in a chuckle.

"It hurts", he whimpers, circling his hips. His cock is so goddamn leaky, soaking your skin oh so well. It’s adorable, really.

"Aww poor boy", you coo, "should we do something about that, mhm?”

“Yes, please”, he whispers, “I already came once.”

“I know. You’re cleaning the sheets, I'm telling you.”

He snickers, “okay, okay. I will.”

Seokjin lifts his head from your neck, eyes locking with yours. You look droopy yet happy, giving him a fond smile.

He retorts it, cheeks puffing out cutely.

“Do you want to lie down for it?” you ask him, reaching up just to pinch his cheeks gently. They are so soft and squishy, deserving of one more gentle pinch.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it”, he says.

“Of course I am. Go on sweets, lie down for me.”

Seokjin follows happily, wiggling to get as comfortable as possible. His head is propped up on two soft pillows, his hands are resting on his tummy and his pretty eyes are glued to your face.

“Are you comfy?” you ask him.

Seokjin nods his head, “are you comfy too?”

“Yes, very”, you say, sitting next to his body. You place your hand on his tummy, making his hands slip to the side to make space for you, “you’re so handsome”, you praise, caressing his skin right above his belly button.

His ears are rosy in an instant, eyes lowering shyly.

“Thank you”, he mumbles, hiding his face behind his hands afterwards.

“You’re so cute, look at your ears turning red”, you tease lovingly, knowing very well that you can do that with your boyfriend.

Seokjin merely whines and wiggles from side to side, “don’t say that. You know they get red when attention’s on me.”

You chuckle, “I know, it’s cute. I like it a lot”, you say, giving his side a little pinch before trailing your touch up his torso.

Seokjin sighs, keeping his hands on his eyes for whatever reason. You don’t find it necessary to ask. You know your boyfriend well enough to know that it was mostly for pleasure reasons. Seokjin loves to deprive himself of his vision whenever you touch him, he says that it helps him really take in how good it feels. He also looks incredibly cute like that. Pink lips all parted in bliss and cheeks just slightly squished under his hands.

“Does that feel nice?” you ask him, tracing his pecs.

“Yes, it’s really nice”, he answers you, chasing you with a slight arch of his back. His skin is burning up, your touch feels electric.

You guide the touch to his nipples, eliciting a gasp from him even before you could touch him. He is so excited. He never told you, but his nipples are really sensitive. Not that he had to tell you, Seokjin is so obvious about how good it feels to him, always squirming and wiggling for you.

This morning is no different. With nothing but a mere brush of your fingers, you force a loud moan out of him and for his hips to squirm. His nipples harden instantly, looking oh so desperate for attention.

“Sensitive”, Seokjin whispers shakily, squeezing his hands against his eyes to stop himself from peeking. Only blinding himself to what you are doing, helps him fall into the intensity of the touch. And as much as he would love to lessen some of that unbearable burning of bliss by peeking, he can’t. He shouldn’t make it easier for himself, because Seokjin loves nothing more than being swallowed whole by the fire.

“I know. They’re really swollen”, you say, taking them between two of your fingers to massage them slowly, "and oh so hard. I love that, sweets. You’re such a good boy."

Seokjin arches his back and moans, “please.”

“Please what Jinnie?”

“I, I don’t know. Don’t stop, please or, or oh god, I don’t know”, he babbles, making you smile fondly.

He is so cute when you turn his brain all mushy from pleasure. You lower yourself to peck his lips just once.

“I’m not gonna stop, love” you promise in the softest voice, stealing another kiss because he is so addicting. The taste of you lingers on his lips, making the kiss all the more amazing. His lips are so soft and puffy from all the head he has been giving you, feeling even better than they normally do. His hands slip from his eyes just to hold you, resting on the back of your neck while his fingers dig into your skin gently.

And while you kiss him like it was your only purpose, your fingers continue tracing his nipples, sending a constant stream of warmth through his body. Seokjin feels so safe with you. So goddamn safe.

Soon your left hand abandons his chest, taking on the journey down his torso. He doesn’t mind your changing touch, falling into the sensations happily.

The kiss barely breaks, lips staying so close while shaky intakes of breath swirl against them.

“How's that?” you ask him, dancing your fingers down his happy trail to reach his cock.

Seokjin opens his legs before you can even as much as slip between them, sighing your name in a desperate attempt to get you to keep going. He really, really wants your touch. His cock is so hard and so sensitive and so needy for your warmth. The sheets weren’t enough, he needs you.

You wrap your fingers around the base of him and run them up his shaft slowly.

“Don't stop please”, Seokjin begs instantly, chasing you with needy rolls of his hips. 

“I haven’t even started. God, you’re so needy”, you say with fond amusement in your voice, lifting your head to study his face. 

His eyes are closed, lips parted and brows furrowed in bliss. 

You touch his tip.

His brows shoot up, a moan slips past his lips. 

You roll your thumb over his frenulum. 

Seokjin rolls his head to the side and throws his hand back over his eyes.

“Please don’t stop”, he begs quietly, gasping for air between his moans. 

“You're so cute”, you whisper, heart feeling like bursting in fondness, “and your cock’s so, so hard. Wow Jinnie, it’s like you never even had an orgasm”, you say, jerking off his entire length in a slow and steady rhythm. 

“I'm so sensitive”, he confesses and whimpers. 

“Gosh, you are? But Jinnie baby, can I even ride you like this?”

Seokjin peels his eyes open, gazing at you. He blinks droopily, licking his lips.

“R-ride?” he stutters.

“Mh-hm. Ride”, you nod your head, paying special attention to his leaking slit. Seokjin squeezes his hand back onto his eyes and mewls softly, hips squirming desperately. “I wanna ride you, make you mine like that.”

“Oh god, that’s so hot”, Seokjin whines, seeking your closeness. He buries his face in your tits, lips wrapping around your nipple just to suck it desperately. It was such a natural reaction to him. Overwhelmed by pleasure, he is seeking you to find comfort through you. Seokjin’s done this a million times before and yet it never becomes boring. 

Shivers run down your spine, thighs rubbing together in search for friction. His mouth feels so warm and wet, the sucking is so gentle yet intense. You are so horny, it is like he never even made you cum six times. Truly, your boyfriend is the best menace in your life.

You reward him by adding slight pressure to your movements, hand gliding up and down his cock smoothly. His skin is seriously so hot, his poor balls look oh so swollen. They throb when you touch them, forcing Seokjin to bite your nipple involuntary.

“Oh?” you chuckle, “careful baby, your teeth.

“Oh god”, he breaks away just to hide away, “fuck me. Please.”

“Mhm?”

“Fuck me please.”

“I didn’t understand”, you taunt, massaging his heavy balls.

“Fuck me”, Seokjin croaks, looking up at you with glassy eyes, “please.”

“You're so fucking adorable”, you rasp, gripping his chin between your fingers, “I'll fuck you so goddamn well, baby.”

Seokjin gulps, cock throbbing desperately. He can’t wait. All he wants, needs, craves is your pussy. 

“Lay on your back, I'm getting the condom”, you order him lovingly, letting go of his cock even if this makes him whine. 

He is already waiting for you when you turn back to him. 

“There we go”, you say, handing him the condom.

“Thank you”, he says, accepting it. 

You sit next to him and watch him work, playing with the bottle of lube you also took with you just in case.

“Do you have any wishes for how you wanna do it?” you ask him. 

“Not really. Do you feel comfortable riding me?” he asks, working diligently to get the condom out of its packaging.

“Yes, I’m comfortable. I just don’t know if I wanna do it like we normally do it. I don’t feel like it today.”

“Yeah? That’s okay. Wanna do it reverse?”

You follow his hand as it rolls the condom on, eyes completely mesmerised.

“No, I don’t really feel like that either.”

“So how do you want to do it? Sideways?”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. Seokjin snickers boyishly.

“That's stupid, you’re stupid”, you poke his tummy, “I thought of maybe, I don’t know, folding you in half.”

“Huh?” Seokjin gasps, staring at you with widened eyes, “folding me in half?”

“Yeah, like take your legs and bend them and then sit on your cock like that.”

“Okay why can I not imagine what you mean and why am I still turned on by it?” he asks, making you laugh.

“Because you think I’m hot?”

“Yeah. Oh big yes”, he nods his head vigorously.

You grin and climb between his legs now that the condom is sitting neatly around his cock. Seokjin lets you do your thing, propped up on his elbows and eyes watching you curiously.

You place your hand on his thighs, massaging them gently.

“Lie down.”

Seokjin plops into the pillows.

“Good boy. Relax”, you say to which he nods his head in compliance. You take his legs and lift them, bending them by their knees.

“Hot”, he croaks, breathing heavily.

“Yeah right? And now I gotta spread you”, you say and spread his legs.

Seokjin inhales sharply, feeling oh so exposed and vulnerable.

“Don't look at my ass though”, he says.

“Why?” you say, eyes flitting down.

“I said don’t look”, he whines, trying and failing to lower his legs because before he could, you stopped him.

“Holy fuck, look at your little hole”, you gasp, pupils dilating like crazy, “it's so exposed in this position”, you say, slipping your finger to it to trace it.

“A-ah”, Seokjin moans, eyelids fluttering in bliss and thighs trying their hardest to rub together. Your touch is so soft, but feels so intense. Attention to his hole always sweeps him off his feet. Each and every time, he forgets how sensitive he is and then you remind him and Seokjin feels like screaming. 

“It's so pretty. You’ve got such a pretty hole, Jinnie. Oh so pretty”, you praise, lowering yourself for one single lick. 

“Okay fuck”, Seokjin drops his head, arching his back, “if, if we're doing t-that now, please g-give me a moment”, he stutters, clenching his rim desperately. 

“Don't worry”, you whisper, kissing it softly, “I'm still gonna ride you. I just wanted to remind you what I could do to you if only I wanted to.”

“Fuck, you’re so cruel”, he laughs breathily, “oh god please fuck me, please.”

“Look at you being needy now. And you wanted to whine about having your hole exposed”, you tease, standing up to position yourself above him. 

"I'm shy, you know me", he mumbles with a pout.

"Yeah, I know. You cutie."

You abandon his legs to grab his cock and align it with your pussy. Seokjin is such a good boy that he keeps his legs the way you want them to be. So busying yourself with his cock is an easy task.

Seokjin is watching the whole scene unfold with his breath held, heart racing like crazy. The sensation of your lick still lingers on his hole and now you are spreading lube on his cock. Seokjin wants to melt into a puddle of pleasure because of it.

“There we go, now you’re all slippery”, you say, placing the lube aside. You position yourself back atop of him, placing your left hand on the back of his thigh and using your right to hold his cock, “ready?”

“So ready”, he says, nodding his head vigorously.

“Okay. Here I come”, you joke, lowering yourself slowly.

You lock eyes in shock, hands reaching for the other instantly. Your fingers intertwine so tightly.

“Okay holy shit”, you whisper, “how are you doing?”

“Good”, he croaks, “oh god”, he drops his head and covers his eyes with his unoccupied hand.

“That’s so hot. It’s seriously so hot”, you pant, bottoming out. You place your other hand on his thigh and use the support to begin your movements. Up and down on his perfect cock, feeling him oh so deep inside you.

“Oh god, oh god, oh darling”, he babbles, curling his toes and rolling his ankles repeatedly.

“It’s good, right?”

“Fucking amazing”, Seokjin moans, squeezing your hand.

You really want to close your eyes because it feels so good, but you don’t. It would be a crime to miss out on how pretty he looks. All folded in half, legs bend, cheeks flushed and hair messy. Seokjin’s so goddamn pretty when you’re on top and he is even prettier when you can bend him into little shapes.

“Don’t wanna stop, you’re so fucking pretty”, you moan, caressing his thighs as your hips dance to a passionate melody. Your bodies meet in loud noises, the lube and your juices sound so wet and nasty, the bed frame croaks each time you let yourself drop on him. You must remember to fix it today. It has been croaking for two weeks now and each and every time you swear to fix it only to get your brain completely scrambled by him and forgetting all about it again.

“Remind me to fix the bed today”, you say.

“You’re thinking about that right now?” he almost whines the words, squirming beneath you so deliciously.

You laugh and moan, “no”, you drop your head, shaking it tiredly, “no, just thinking ‘bout your cock. It’s the best cock.”

“It’s yours”, he croaks, “it’s your cock.”

“Yeah that’s right, my cock. My pretty cock”, you rasp, trembling in bliss, “fuck Jinnie, you feel so good”, you say, speeding up your hips and making Seokjin moan the most devastating moan ever.

You don’t even mind the croaking of the bed anymore. Not when he sounds so good and feels even better. Let the bed croak, at least that means that you’re fucking him the way he’s supposed to be fucked. Fast and deep. Your pretty boy deserves only the best.

Mornings like today are the best. They seriously are the goddamn best. You plan on making him breakfast later, while Seokjin plans to do the same for you. You also plan on smothering him in kisses for ages while he plans on kissing your feet in gratefulness for introducing him to this position.

He can go so deep that way, cock shifting inside the warmest parts of you. He also loves how you fold him. His lower back gets a gentle stretch in this position, his thighs feel so tense from holding his legs up. His butt….

“Ah wait”, he gasps.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, slowing down your movements.

“Butt cramp. Oh god, butt cramp. Help”, he groans and yelps dramatically.

“Oh dear, wait”, you stumble off of him to allow him to stretch his legs out.

Seokjin does so instantly, rubbing his cramping buttock whilst whining loudly.

“Are you okay?” you ask him.

“Yeah, urgh”, he groans, giving his butt a soft spank, “I’m fine, just got a cramp.”

You snicker, “I’m sorry, but this is so funny.”

“Yeah, yeah laugh about my pain all you want”, he pouts.

“Gosh, I’m sorry. Are you okay, baby?” you ask him, placing your hand on his butt to rub it gently.

“Yeah”, he huffs out air, “just a little upset that we had to stop.”

“Yeah, same. Stupid cramp”, you chuckle, “I mean, we can still continue if you want to.”

Seokjin gives you a boyish look and nods his head.

“Can we try it in reverse?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Like this”, Seokjin sits up and grabs a pillow. He turns on the mattress, lying down with his head facing the foot end of the bed. He lifts his legs back into position, looking at you through them, “just like this and then you slip down with your butt facing me and you can hold onto the headboard.”

“Yeah sure, that’s really hot. Are you sure that your butt can withstand it?” you tease.

“I’ll bully you too next time you get a cramp”, he mumbles with a pout, “remember when your leg cramped when you pegged me in the shower? Yeah who’s laughing now?”

You snicker, “gosh you’re so adorable”, you say, making him blush and lower his eyes shyly.

You reach for the bottle of lube to smother his cock in a new layer of it. Seokjin sighs in reaction, eyes going from shy to terribly droopy. Once done, you position yourself atop of him again, showing off your butt.

“Wow, you’re so sexy”, Seokjin gasps, eyes widened in complete awe.

“Yeah? Like the view?” you taunt, wiggling your butt just for him.

“I love it so much. Oh god, my cock’s so hard”, he whines, “please hurry up.”

"I am."

You wrap your fingers around his cock, aligning it with your dripping pussy. With one expert move, you sink back down on him, using the headboard for support.

“How's that?” you ask him, voice trembling because his cock curves so nicely like that. It feels so nice to sink back into the sensation. Warm and oh so intense.

“Good”, Seokjin croaks, “please don’t stop, please.”

“I won’t”, you say, finally moving up and down again. Slow for now to get your bodies used to the new sensations.

The position enables way easier movements than when you were facing him. Like this you can arch your back and really grind your pussy on his cock. It is also kinda hot to deprive yourself of his face, it makes the sounds he makes all the more delicious. 

“That's so fucking good, baby. Your cock’s so goddamn deep like that”, you lull, riding on the surge of warmth only he can make you feel.

“I don't wanna stop, please don't stop”, Seokjin begs with his head dizzy. You have no idea what kind of view he currently has. You seriously have no fucking idea just how hypnotised you’ve got him. Your sexy ass is jiggling each time you slam your hips down on him and your wet pussy is moving around his cock. Seokjin swears he's never had a sexier view, tearing up because he refuses to blink in order not to miss even a second of it.

“So pretty”, you rasp, eyes glued to something completely different. His hole, all exposed and looking oh so empty. You place your finger against it, eliciting a throat moan from him.

“Don't stop please...”

You outline it with your fingertip, pussy dripping down his cock in arousal. 

“Please”, he whimpers, eyelids fluttering in bliss. He feels on fire. This is way too good.

“Shit baby, your hole looks so pretty. Wanna stuff my finger in there”, you say.

“Please do it, please”, he begs, squirming under you needily.

The lube is running down his middle, covering not only his balls but also his hole. You gather more of it, spreading it on his soft rim. You could actually do it. With a fluttering heart, you dare to put pressure on his hole.

“Fuck”, Seokjin presses out, “fuck please more.”

“That’s so hot”, you murmur, putting more pressure.

His hole opens up, swallowing your finger to its first knuckle. Seokjin makes the neediest sound ever, cock throbbing inside your dripping pussy.

“That’s so nice, isn’t it?” you speak softly, pushing more of your digit inside.

“So nice…fuck oh god”, Seokjin moans, rolling his ankles while his fingers dig into his own thighs for support. The stretch is so intense. Not because your finger is way too big, but because you’ve got him so good this morning. Every inch of his body is so sensitive. Seokjin can barely handle the sensations of having your finger plug him up. Especially not when your wet pussy is bouncing on his cock like that.

You bottom out and curl it.

“There?” you ask him.

“Left, little to the left”, he pants.

You fix your position and curl your finger again.

“Ther-“, you can’t even finish your sentence and Seokjin already interrupts you with the loudest, most desperate moan ever. Jackpot.

“P-please, p-please”, he begs, clenching around you desperately.

“There we go. You’re such a good boy”, you praise, speeding up your hips again. His cock is so much harder ever since you started fingering his ass. You love the stretch he gives you, chasing the electric tingles with eager hips.

He is so warm inside. So warm and soft. And oh so tight, walls clenching around your finger each time you grind your fingertip against his prostate.

You know that he won’t be able to hold out for long anymore. Not only is his cock sensitive, but assplay always gets him way too needy. You tense your abs to keep yourself upright and slip your hand from the headboard to touch your own clit. Just a little help. You are so close yourself, you just need that little extra push.

“Oh god, what are you doing?” Seokjin croaks, feeling your tense around him.

“Playing with my clit”, you sigh, “feels so good Jinnie, love fucking you so much.”

“Holy shit, that’s so hot”, he presses out under his breath, throbbing inside you, “I’m so close.”

“I know baby, I know. Me too”, you lull, “keep breathing baby, I’m almost there.”

Seokjin tries to follow your orders, letting out the shakiest breaths ever. His hand is pressed back onto his eyes, blinding him to the room. His palm feels sweaty, but he doesn’t mind. All he minds is the intense pressure against his prostate and your tight pussy around his cock.

“Almost there baby, fuck I’m almost there”, you chant, hips stuttering and finger pressing together against your clit.

“Can I cum when you cum? Please I, I don’t think I can stop myself”, he pleads, voice squeaky and weak.

“Yes baby, but wait for me yeah?”

“Yeah, yes. I-I’ll wait”, he stutters, “oh god, your pussy’s so good.”

“Your cock’s so good too”, you say with struggle in your voice, “fuck okay, Jinnie I think I’m gonna cum.”

Seokjin moans, clenching around your digit in excitement. Just one more curl of your finger and he’ll follow right after you. His prostate is so sensitive, his cock burns from holding back.

“O-okay now. Fuck now Jin-“ your voice cuts off as a loud moan shakes through you as you orgasm right around his perfect cock.

You somehow manage to press your finger right against his prostate with such rough intensity that Seokjin climaxes way harder than he thought he would. Truly for a moment, he feared that he might throw you off. If you weren’t bouncing on him like a mad woman, chasing your own soul crushing high, he probably would have.

You come down together. You barely manage to slip off his cock before your body collapses in exhaustion. You drop right next to him, laying belly first and cheek squished on the mattress. You feel dead.

Seokjin feels the same, feeling oh so far away from his body as he is trying to catch his breath.

“Well damn”, you mumble.

“Yeah”, he agrees.

“My pussy’s still throbbing.”

Seokjin laughs tiredly, rolling his head to the side to look at you. All he can see is your butt and legs.

“I would say same, but I don’t have a pussy.”

You snort ungracefully, craning your neck to be able to look at him. Your eyes meet, cracking both of you up. You laugh loudly and wholeheartedly, reaching for each other as best as possible. Your fingers barely manage to intertwine but it is still enough to make you feel oh so connected with each other.

“This was seriously so much fun”, you say.

“Yeah, it was”, he says and smiles brightly, “we have to do this again someday.”

“Yeah totally. Without the butt cramp though.”

Seokjin snickers, “why? I thought that was the best part”, he jokes, making you chuckle loudly.

[ineverlookavvay]

take away the noise

Michael helps Alex relax with the help of a blindfold.

Fill for Kinktober Day 6: sensory deprivation (two days late, oops)

Read it on Ao3

Alex flung open the door when Michael knocked, looking flustered and unhappy.  He was still wearing his uniform, which wasn’t a good sign, since he’d been through with work for hours, and Michael was supposed to come over for an at-home “date.”  Alex ran his fingers through his hair and frowned at Michael. 

“You’re early.”

Michael tilted his head and shrugged.  “Actually, I’m about half an hour late.” 

Alex looked at his watch and sighed.  “Sorry.  I lost track of time.”  He stepped aside to let Michael in, closing the door behind them.  

Michael grabbed Alex’s hip and reeled him in, pulling him close and breathing in the comforting scent of him.  Alex smiled at Michael, but behind the smile was exhaustion and worry and distraction, dark circles under his eyes.  “What’s up?” Michael asked carefully.

“I’m trying to finish up some work,” Alex said, pulling away and walking back towards where his computer sat on the table. “I’ve been up forever, and I can’t tell you what I’m working on, but it’s…a lot, and they promoted Flint again, so.”  He scrubbed his hand across his face.  “I can’t relax, I’m just way too in my head and—maybe tonight isn’t the best night for a date, Guerin.”

“Or, maybe that’s exactly what you need,” Michael replied, taking Alex’s sad smile as an affirmative.  “Okay, so what I’m going to do is cook you something, because I’m guessing you haven’t eaten at all, and you go shower and change, and we’ll go from there, okay?”

Alex hesitated.  “I really should get this work done.”

“Alex.  Let me take care of you tonight.”  He paused, checking Alex’s expression and body language.  “Is that okay?”  Alex considered him, then nodded.   Michael exhaled in relief.  This was good—Alex was always there for him, being what Michael needed him to be, and he was ready to return the favor, because Alex needed him.  Michael liked the feeling of being needed, like he was doing something of real value. 

Alex walked towards the bathroom, and Michael waited until he heard the sound of the shower before going into the kitchen and inspecting Alex’s fridge and cabinets for ingredients.  After hesitating, doubting whether trying to make something complicated would improve or further ruin Alex’s mood when it ultimately came out wrong, he settled on pasta and a bottle of tomato sauce, figuring it would be something at least. 

Michael would never get used to the sight of Alex fresh from the shower, his hair dark and dripping, casually wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants and using his crutch instead of putting the prosthesis back on.  He looked less relaxed today than usual—his eyes still darting around, still frowning—but it was an easy comfort that Michael had thought he would never have, that he would never deserve.  He slid a bowl of pasta in front of Alex and sat down opposite him.  “I know it’s not much, but you should eat something.”

“It’s fine—it’s good,” Alex said, taking a bite.  He looked like he was torn between settling into the chair to eat and jumping up to run away.  

Michael knew it wasn’t about him—not today, at least—but that frantic edge to Alex always made his chest hurt, made him wish he knew how to solve it.  This was different than in the past, though, because he was allowed to be here, he was allowed to touch Alex and try to soothe his worries. 

“Alex, tell me how to help you relax.  Do you want me to leave?”  Alex shook his head.  “Do you want to fuck me?”

Alex smiled, but shook his head again.  “I don’t think…what helps you relax?”

Michael laughed, licking his lips.  “You.  Letting go of my control, giving it to you—that helps.”  He cocked his head to the side.  “Is that what you want?”

Alex shrugged.  “I don’t know how to do that, but I just—I can’t get out of my head, and everywhere I look just reminds me of…everything, and it’s too much.”  He sounded miserable.  Michael knew that feeling—that ‘lost in your own mind, too much, too much’ feeling—and he wanted to help. 

“I think,” Michael said, slipping out of his chair and coming around the table to sit next to Alex instead, “maybe we can take away some of the noise, or the visual distractions.  Maybe focus on something good for a while.”

“What, you want to blindfold me?” Alex asked incredulously, and then paused when Michael just looked at him.  “Actually?”

“Maybe we give it a try, and if you hate it we can take it off right away.”

Alex swallowed.  “And what would you be doing, while I was blindfolded?”

Michael grinned.  “Anything you want.  Giving you things to focus on.  Touching you with my hands, or my mouth, whatever you want.”

Alex looked interested, although he still seemed distracted and frustrated.  “And if I hate it?”

“You say stop, that shit comes right off.” 

Alex nodded, pushing away from the table and his half-eaten pasta.  “Okay.”

Michael nodded conclusively, and followed Alex to his bedroom.  Alex spun around once they were there, looking uncertain.  “What do we do?”

“Close your eyes and kiss me,” Michael said.  This was all different; he wasn’t usually this demanding, but he could see from the way Alex inhaled sharply, some of the worry softening out of his expression, that it was the right way to do things tonight.  Alex closed his eyes, and Michael stepped into his space, putting one hand on Alex’s neck and kissing him softly, letting Alex pull away if he needed to, letting him deepen the kiss if he wanted to.  He did, after a moment, melting towards Michael, kissing him with feeling.  

After a moment, Michael broke the kiss, pulling back just slightly.  “How is this?”  

Alex nodded.  “Good.”

“Do you want to get undressed and sit on the bed?” 

Alex nodded again, no hesitation, which was good enough for Michael.  He stepped back as Alex’s eyes blinked open, looking slightly less filled with worry.  Alex sat on the bed, laying his crutch alongside it, and pulled off his t-shirt and sweats.   

“Do you want me to get undressed?” Michael asked.  Alex nodded eagerly.  Okay, then.  Michael quickly pulled off his clothing, dropping it on the floor.  “Have something we can use for a blindfold?” 

Alex pointed to a drawer that turned out to be filled with socks and a single black, satin sleep mask.  Michael held it up incredulously, checking for opacity.  It seemed pretty tightly woven, no light getting through, and Michael wondered why the hell Alex had it, since he’d never seen him sleep in it. 

“Present from Liz ages ago,” Alex explained, “not sure why I didn’t just get rid of it.  Guess I was saving it for today.”  He was smiling, so Michael smiled, too.  

He slid onto the bed, kneeling between Alex’s thighs.  “Ready?”  Alex nodded and Michael slid the elastic over Alex’s head, resting it over his eyes.  “How does that feel?” 

Alex laughed nervously.  “Dark, but not bad.”

“Okay,” Michael swallowed.  Alex’s lips were curled into a smile, and the fabric looked good against Alex’s skin.  “Can I kiss you?”

Alex nodded, and Michael leaned forward, careful to support his weight on the bed and not on Alex without warning.  He pressed his lips against Alex’s, kissing him through the awkwardness of being unable to see it coming, kissing him until his lips were red and he looked more relaxed.  Michael licked and sucked at Alex’s bottom lip and Alex groaned softly.  His shoulders were less strained, and he was starting to get hard—all good signs.  

“I’m going to touch you now, is that okay?”  Michael asked softly, pressing his lips to Alex’s neck, just below his ear.  Alex nodded, shivering slightly.  

Michael lightly ran his fingers across Alex’s shoulders, down along his collarbones.  He could see Alex’s breath catch with each new touch, and although he still looked too tightly wound, Michael could feel Alex’s attention focus.  He touched Alex’s chest, skirting his nipples for now, but tracing across his ribs and stomach.  Michael moved lower on the bed, pressing his hands to Alex’s thighs, more firm touches that startled a breathy sound out of Alex.  Michael leaned down, ghosting his breath over Alex’s stomach as he stroked from Alex’s thighs up to his hips.  Alex’s cock was almost fully hard, but Michael avoided it, focusing on the other parts of him that would be more responsive now.  

One hand rubbing circles along Alex’s hipbone, Michael lifted his other hand to Alex’s cheek, pleased when Alex hummed and leaned into it.  Michael ran his fingers through Alex’s hair and back to his face, running his thumb across Alex’s bottom lip.  

“How is this?” Michael asked quietly, and Alex exhaled. 

“Good, quieter.”  

Michael smiled, and pulled away entirely, before pressing both hands to Alex’s shoulders, massaging them gently until he could see them visibly relax.  He trailed down Alex’s chest again, this time letting his fingers drift gently over Alex’s nipples.  Alex visibly jumped, and Michael pulled back immediately, before Alex shook his head. 

“No, don’t stop.”

Michael tried to calm his own breathing as he thumbed over Alex’s nipples one at a time.  Alex’s mouth went slack, moaning breathily.  Michael kept one thumb on Alex’s nipple and sucked his other thumb into his own mouth, getting it wet before pressing it to Alex’s other nipple.  

“Oh fuck, what is that?”

Michael laughed lightly.  “Still just hands.”

He kept rubbing Alex’s nipple, watching it harden into a little nub, and pressed his other hand gently against Alex’s hip again, dragging it close to his cock without touching it.  Alex’s breathing was getting more labored, his hands clenching against the bedsheets. 

“I’m going to touch you with my mouth, okay?”  Michael said quietly, waiting until he heard Alex’s faint, “yes.”

Michael kept one hand on Alex’s hip and braced the other against the bed as he leaned in and licked at Alex’s nipple.  Alex moaned, louder now, and Michael stroked Alex’s hip while he licked, taking a breath before licking at the other nipple.  He could tell Alex wasn’t keeping track of Michael so carefully anymore, was starting to let himself go by the way he reacted to each new touch, by the way he moaned like he wasn’t ashamed, his mouth held open in a little ‘o,’  

Michael kept up his attention on Alex’s nipples while sliding his hand down, stroking across Alex’s thigh again before ghosting his thumb gently against Alex’s balls.  Alex groaned, licking his lips, and pressing his hips towards Michael.  Michael licked a line down Alex’s stomach, still avoiding his cock, but licking up the drops of precum that had dripped onto his stomach.  He licked along the line of Alex’s hip, alternating light touches with sucking, watching Alex’s chest rise and fall, feeling the tiny jolts of his hips. 

Slowly, Michael licked closer to Alex’s cock, pressing his tongue against the skin just around it, made more sensitive by the fact that Michael was getting so close without actually touching.  He moved away from Alex’s skin, just breathing over it, watching as Alex’s cock twitched and his breathing grew more labored.  

“Fuck, Michael, just touch me already,” Alex whined, and Michael pressed his hand against his own cock, undone by the tone of Alex’s voice.  

“I am touching you,” Michael replied, moving up the bed to kiss Alex’s neck gently.  Alex huffed a little, licking his lips, but all of the worry and exhaustion and distraction had bled out of his voice, and each touch of Michael’s lips to his skin made his breath catch. 

Once Michael thought Alex was getting used to the little kisses, he moved away and slid down towards Alex’s cock, licking a slow stripe up it abruptly.  Alex’s answering moan was loud and uninhibited, and it resonated though Michael like a shock.  

Michael licked Alex’s cock slowly from the base to the head of it, paying close attention to every shiver and tremble of Alex’s body.  After a few minutes of this, Michael finally took the head of it into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it, licking and sucking gently while Alex fell apart beneath him.  

Alex moaned, whispering Michael’s name, whispering obscenities.  He reached out blindly, grasping Michael’s hair and knitting his fingers into it, holding Michael in place gently but firmly.  Michael slowly swallowed Alex’s cock, taking it a little deeper into his throat every time, only to pull off completely and lick gently at the head of it again.  Alex’s fingers scratched at Michael’s scalp, but Alex let him lead, riding the sensations Michael gave to him. 

By the time Michael started to suck Alex in earnest, Alex’s skin was shiny with sweat, his fingers firm in Michael’s hair, his moans nearly constant, his mouth slack and his free hand gripping the bed sheet tight enough to rip it.  

Michael planted his hands on the bed, letting Alex fuck up into his throat with stilted thrusts.  He could tell when Alex was close, because he pulled at Michael’s hair, his hips thrust up more purposefully, and his other hand left the bed to grip Michael’s arm, holding on tightly.  Michael slid his tongue over Alex’s cock, swallowing around it and keeping his throat relaxed for Alex to fuck into.  

Alex came suddenly, with a loud groan and a final thrust of his hips.  Michael pulled back as Alex’s grip in his hair slackened, catching Alex’s cum in his mouth and swallowing it, licking Alex’s cock clean before pulling off entirely.  He lifted Alex’s hand from his hair, pressing a kiss to Alex’s palm as he placed it down on the bed again.

Michael kissed the tip of Alex’s cock lightly and then moved up the bed, kneeling between Alex’s legs and gently touching his hands to the sides of Alex’s face.  Alex immediately wrapped his arms around Michael, pulling him into a fierce kiss.  

“How do you feel?”  Michael asked breathlessly when they pulled apart. 

“Good,” Alex murmured, and Michael smiled.  

“I’m going to take this off, okay?”  He let his fingers trail the edges of the sleep mask, so Alex would know what he meant.  Alex hesitated, then nodded.  “Close your eyes.”

Michael pulled the elastic free of Alex’s head, brushing his fingers through Alex’s hair as he did.  Alex looked blissful—his eyes closed and his lips kissed red and still slightly parted, the creases of worry gone from his face.  Michael loved him so fucking much. 

Letting the sleep mask drop onto Alex’s nightstand, Michael maneuvered Alex down onto the bed with him, pulling Alex forward to curl up on his chest.  Michael rubbed circles across Alex’s back, listening as his breathing evened out, watching for the moment when Alex cautiously opened his eyes, blinking in the dim light. 

“Hey,” Michael said softly, kissing Alex’s forehead. 

“Hey,” Alex replied, and he sounded so much calmer, Michael felt a surge of pride.

“How are you?”

Alex smiled, snuggling against Michael’s chest.  “Amazing.  That was…a good idea.”

Michael grinned against Alex’s forehead.  “Good.”  He kept rubbing circles against Alex’s skin, kissing the top of his head, holding him close.  

Alex suddenly pulled his head up, looking at Michael’s still semi-hard cock.  “But, you never came.”

“It’s okay,” Michael reassured him, stroking his head until he laid it down again.  “Tonight was about you.  And trust me, I enjoyed myself.”  He waited until Alex settled again.  “So, keeping the sleep mask?”

Alex nodded.  “Definitely keeping it.  And maybe looking into actual blindfolds.”

Michael sighed, already imagining Alex with a swath of red or black fabric slipping across his skin, a blindfold that Michael could tie himself, that he could make perfect for Alex.   

“I’m glad you stayed,” Alex said, sleep tinging his voice.  

Michael flipped the lights off with his mind, pulling the bedsheets out from under them and over their legs the same way.  He looked down at Alex, nearly asleep, curled up against Michael like there was no place he’d rather be.  Making Alex feel calm the way Alex could make him feel calm was one of the most fulfilling things Michael had ever done.  He closed his eyes and held Alex tightly.  “Me too.”

[lukatheselkie]

Helltalia-inc - Space, stars, moon / “You’re better than you think.”

@helltalia-inc

Ahhhhh I had so much fun with this one! I had no idea where I was going when I started it, but I couldn’t be happier now! I’m probably going to write more on this in the future, I love it so much!

I only sort of used the first one, but I think it’s enough to include it?

Pairing: Sweden x Prussia

I have included nonbinary Prussia, along with mute, autistic, and sensory issues Sweden. Human-verse (sort of? You’ll see what I mean)

    It starts with an unexpected encounter. Berwald is washing his plate in the sink when he sees a light streak across the sky. He rushes outside to get a better look at it. He doesn’t slip anything on his feet, because he’s expecting it to be a shooting star. He’s taken by surprise when it falls behind the trees, disappearing into the forest. Fueled by curiosity, he wonders toward the treeline. He knows he shouldn’t go in. Not at night. Not without shoes. Not without something to protect himself. But all of those things seem less important than figuring out what just landed. So he finds himself in the dark forest, looking around for anything out of place. Eventually he finds what he’s searching for, but it’s… Well, it’s underwhelming, to say the least.

    He stumbles over it, actually. It’s so small, he doesn’t notice its existence until he’s on the ground from tripping over it. He stands back up, brushing himself off. He kneels next to the object he tripped over, and furrows his brows. He’s not certain, but it appears to be emitting a faint light. He grabs a stick and pokes at the sphere, but nothing happens besides it rolling away. He glances up at the sky, and determines this is roughly the area he watched it go down. So this tiny sphere must be what he’s looking for. Right? He flips over his hand and positions it closer to the object, testing for heat. Nothing. Against his better judgment, he slips it into the palm of his hand, wrapping his fingers around it tightly. It’s so smooth it’s unnerving. He shakes his head, and makes his way back home.

    Once inside, he changes his clothes, including his socks, then sets the sphere on the counter. He stares unblinking at it for at least a minute, but it only shines back at him. What is the source of that eerie blue glow? Does it have batteries? He can’t seem to make out a seam. It’s definitely man-made though. Nothing is naturally that perfectly spherical. After an hour of trying to figure it out, he shakes his head at himself. He’s had a long day. He’s probably hallucinating! This thing doesn’t actually exist, and he’s been watching his blank counter space for an hour. Still, he grabs the object and takes it to his room. He lays it on his nightstand before curling up under the blankets. Maybe this will all make sense in the morning. It’s late. Or maybe the sphere won’t be there in the morning, and he’ll have to go back to his therapist. He doesn’t have enough energy to focus on any of that right now though. He closes his eyes, and lets sleep overtake him.

~

    When Berwald rolls over and comes face-to-brighter-sphere with the object in the morning, he nearly falls out of bed. He shoves the covers off of himself, and frantically reaches out for his glasses. Once they’re securely on his face, he starts another staring contest with the sphere. It’s changed. For one, it’s slightly larger now. For two, it’s pulsating, which concerns him to no end. For three, it seems to be slightly changing colour? Light blue to medium blue to deep blue to medium blue to light blue to—he shakes his head hard. He should just get rid of this thing before it combusts. He scoops it up, and it beeps at his touch. Of course, this causes him to drop it, and it beeps angrily at him.

    There’s an angry sphere on his bedroom floor. Should he just move? That might be the best thing to do. Still, he can’t help but look at it again. He wonders if maybe dropping it wasn’t the best idea, and picks it up. It beeps once more, then falls silent. Okay. He has a weird, glowing sphere that sort of acts like a baby in his hand. What the hell is he supposed to do with it!?

    Before he can figure that out, it turns green and a… keyboard…(?) appears in the air. No, that’s not quite right. It’s a hologram. But the keys aren’t anything he recognizes. He shakes his head in confusion at the thing. What’s he supposed to do with that? A voice, he thinks, speaks to him through it. He has no idea what is being said. He understands the sigh though! He shouldn’t be as excited about that as he is. Another beep, then the same voice, but in English this time. “Stupid piece of-” They take a deep breath. “No. This is my fault. Don’t blame the technology. Hello? Is anyone there? Can you kindly answer?” Berwald taps one of the keys. “Oh! Good! Someone’s there! Can you hear me?” Again, he taps. “Alllllllright. Can you understand me?” Another tap. “Listen! If you don’t stop that, I’m going to arm this thing!” He doesn’t tap this time. He doesn’t want to risk that. “So you can understand me. Why didn’t you just say so?”

    Normally, this is where Berwald would write that he’s mute and it’s rude to ask someone why they won’t talk, especially in a situation like this, but he doesn’t know if this thing has a receiving camera or not. So, he grabs his phone, navigates to the text-to-speech app he installed for similar encounters, and types in I don’t speak. When it says those words, there’s a soft noise of surprise from the… voice.

    “Oh! Sorry. How rude of me. Everyone here speaks, so I just assumed… Sorry. Really. You’re on Earth, right? What an interesting planet!” Berwald can’t decide if he’s curious or angry. Interesting planet? Indirectly, the voice told him he’s “interesting” for not speaking. He has a feeling that word means something closer to “I’d like to observe” for them. Still, he’ll give them a chance. What do you want? “Oh! Right! That’s easy! I’d like my drone back. Please. You humans say that when you want something, right? Please?” It’s said to be polite. “Ah! Whatever that means. Well? Can I have it back? I was aiming for Mercury.” Berwald’s brows shoot up. “What? Is that not possible?”

    Apparently, this thing does have a receiving camera. Which makes him wonder… Did you watch me sleep? “That’s not an answer to my question.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I can see I’m not getting an answer until you know. Yes. I watched you sleep. Humans are such interesting creatures! Why’d you take off your face glass thingies to sleep though? Seems like you need them to see. Why not wear them while you sleep, so you can wake up seeing?” The voice obviously knows very little about humans. They break. And no, it’s not possible to give your drone back. I don’t know how to use this thing. The invisible speakers crackle at the heavy sigh the… alien(?) does. “That sucks. I’ll have to come retrieve it myself. Please wait where you are! I’ll be there soon!” And it goes back to being a sphere. One that’s no longer glowing, in fact.

    What, exactly, just happened? He flips the object over and over and over in his hands, trying to find a seam again. Nothing. But obviously there’s one somewhere. A speaker, a camera, a hologram maker, a GPS, and who knows what else is stored in this thing. He should take it to the government. He should throw it back into the forest. Whatever he does, he shouldn’t leave it in his house until the alien comes to retrieve it. But that’s exactly what he does. It’s probably because he’s in shock. He places it back on his nightstand, then continues the day like nothing ever happened. Cook, clean, knit, cook, clean, crochet, cook, cle-

    “HETHAM.” Well that’s not part of his after-dinner cleaning. He dries off his hands and walks out the side door, closest to where he heard the sound. It’s night again; about twenty four hours after first seeing the sphere in the sky, to be exact. There’s a man dangling from his gutter system. He knows immediately this is the alien he spoke to earlier. Berwald wasn’t expecting him to be so attractive. Even upside down, he’s enchanting. His hair is white as snow, his skin only a few shades tanner, and his eyes a shocking ruby red. His facial and body features are decently sculpted as well. He shouldn’t be looking at his guest that way! He should be helping him down! Them? He’s not sure what pronouns an alien that looks like a human man goes by. Anyway, not important! He rushes to aid them, trying to internalize the pain at seeing his expensive gutter system ruined. Once they’re on the ground, upright, they give him the biggest grin he’s ever seen. It makes his cheeks hurt. “Thanks! I think that’s what you use here? I’m very new to Earth customs! Where’s my drone?” Berwald glances at the sky discreetly, looking for some sort of transportation device. “Oh, you won’t see anything. I teleported here! I was meant to appear next to my drone, but I guess I miscalculated.” Berwald scrunches up his nose in distaste. He’s thankful for the miscalculation. Having an alien appear in his room would be too much for him to handle.

    “Hey, why don’t you talk, anyway? I thought only humans that couldn’t hear didn’t speak.” He rubs at his temples; he already has a headache. This is why he lives alone! People are loud. Animals are loud. He’s sensitive to that. His therapist told him he has Hearing Sensory Overload, but it feels like more than that. “Why aren’t you responding? Do you not have that cool speak thingie? Here, I’ll help!” They swipe something from their pocket, and hold it up to Berwald’s forehead.

    “How annoying.” “They’re so loud, it hurts.” “I’m mute. That means I don’t talk, hearing or not.” “God, they’re attractive!” “Damned hot.” His internal voice echoes out all at once. “Enough!” He thinks, hearing it at the same time. “I don’t want your mind-to-speech thing invading my thoughts anymore. Turn it off.” The alien sticks their bottom lip out in a pout, but turns the device off without complaint. Thank you he mouths, signing it at the same time. The alien glances down at his watch, then nods. Probably a universal translator of some sort.

    “You’re welcome! I didn’t know humans could think so many things at once! I guess it makes sense. You’re about as smart as my kind. Though you haven’t even started on a lot of the technology we’ve perfected.” They shrug then walk toward the door Berwald came out, letting themself in. The Swede follows after, deciding he’s going to un-learn English so something like this doesn’t ever happen again.

    “Oh… You live… Modestly.” They grimace at the woodstove in his kitchen. This causes Berwald to bristle. That’s his pride and joy! It’s been in his family for generations! He brought it back from the dead! “Hopefully this is just a little vintage corner!” It is, in fact, not. The rest of his house is similar to his kitchen; outdated but solid. “Oh… Well, at least you’re bound to have a cat or a dog! Most humans do! Come here, kitty kitty kitty! Or puppy! Come here!” Berwald shakes his head slowly at them. “No?” Their shoulders slump. “What a lonely life you must lead.” That makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. He’s not alone! He has his family. Both chosen and blood.

    “Hey. You’re better than you think. You’re worth more than you think. I understand why I lost control of my drone here now. Sometimes, our technology messes up when there’s a lot of sorrow around.” They step toward him with an extended hand, but don’t touch him. “You don’t have to be miserable just because you live in an overwhelming world.” Their words are so earnest, it makes his heart ache. No one’s ever noticed that before. No one’s ever mentioned his punishing himself for being so easily overwhelmed. But this… this stranger immediately knowing? It causes tears to come to his eyes. He wipes at them quickly, but it’s too late. “You don’t have to hide them from me. How long have you been hurting?” That’s a question he doesn’t know the answer to. How long has he been hurting?

~

    Months later, Berwald returns home to his partner Gilbert with a diagnosis for Autism Spectrum Disorder. It’s thanks to them that he was even considered for it. After their customary welcome home hug and a bit of quiet excitement at finally knowing, Berwald settles next to the large fish tank they recently bought together to knit. As he watches the fish chase each other, he’s filled with a warmth he wouldn’t have recognized before Gilbert crashed into his life; quite literally, might he add. It seems both like yesterday and years ago that they teleported into his gutter system and broken the wall he had so carefully constructed over years within a matter of minutes. But it was the first day of many he felt actually seen, instead of glanced over. And Gilbert was always the source of that feeling.

    After he had broken down that day, Gilbert had insisted they stay to help him. Neither of them had expected to fall in love, but they did. Gilbert visits home commonly, but the good thing about having a partner that can teleport anywhere in the universe in an instant is that Berwald never has to go to bed alone. And he always has physical support when he needs it, even if Gilbert is a galaxy away. That’s thanks to the drone that started all of this. He still doesn’t understand it, but at least he can call for Gilbert whenever. He might abuse that power a little too much. He just can’t help it! Gilbert makes him so happy.

   “I made your favourite meal. I knew how anxious you were about this, so I started cooking the moment you left. You do too much for me. It’s about time I paid you back. I love you. So very much.” They nuzzle their nose against Berwald’s ear, then his forehead, then his nose. He rolls his eyes, signs kiss?, and presses his lips to Gilbert’s when they nod. He lets out a contented sigh when they pull away. “Come eat. You can knit and watch the fish later.” They pull him up, and he goes willingly. It’s strange, having someone to share his daily routine with. But it’s definitely not unwelcome, even if it is much different from what it used to be. And ever-changing, for that matter. Life with Gilbert is always a surprise.

[askemilydeanyo]

Hello, yes. We had a threesome.

Before I start, I’d like to say that for the bulk majority of my life, I have identified as a relatively jealous person. Not jealous in a comparative way, but in a “tell me everything about your past, in detail, and then comfort me when I get upset about it because I will get upset” kind of way. That being said, when my urge to have a threesome crept up, I was honestly taken off guard. Imagining my partner with other people in the past used to make me queasy, but suddenly thinking of them with someone else was making me seriously horny. What the fuck was going on? I’ll paint the scene for you:

I was on the front porch eating strawberries, reading my final pages of Karley Sciortino’s Slutever, when it first came over me. In a lascivious daze, I looked up to my partner, then cutting the grass, and said: “Do you want to have a threesome?” to which they plainly responded, “Yeah, sure.” So like any self-proclaimed horny millennial sex aficionado, I immediately took to Instagram. (Obviously, I realize that not everybody can hop on their social media account and solicit for a sex partner, but I have a majority of family blocked and let’s be real they are all pretty aware of my sluttiness, so it seemed plausible to me.)

My request, posted in typewriter font over a photo of my leather flogger, simply stated: “Seeking a third for play *devil emoji*.” And voilà, just like that, she was baited. I will say, I got about 9 responses in total, but none of the others quite fit the description. We didn’t want anyone we knew too close, anyone we didn’t know at all, or anyone younger than me. I suppose this is my first tip, being that it might take a while for you and your partner to find someone that you are both attracted to, and it is both okay and encouraged to allow yourselves to be choosey (like, sure it only took us about 3 hours, but I’d say we are an anomaly to the rule.) I know a lot of people take to bars, or get on Tinder, or hire a sex worker, and I think those are excellent options for certain kinds of people, but we didn’t want to just pick from a sea of faces, we wanted to have some sort of connection to our third.

So, when she slid into my DM’s, we were stoked. We both knew her, but very, very vaguely. She and I had met a handful of times in social settings, but never engaged in anything beyond surface level conversation. However, like many of these types of interactions in my life, we had, at some point, talked about sex. I speak very candidly about sexuality – and my online presence is certainly no exception. I run weekly sex polls, I post pre-smut photos of me in full rubber lingerie, and I have an advice column where I answer questions about sex and relationship issues. So the chances that I have given someone sex-related advice online, while only having a conversation about their dog in person is surprisingly high.

Since we had some back-and-forth in the past, she approached it by saying: “If it’s not out of line, maybe I can reach out to you two about joining in the fun? I’ve always thought you’d be fun and comfortable to be around.” Finally! My outward slut-ass-ness had paid off! I was sold on her. I took the idea to my partner and they immediately agreed. As I said, the entire process of deciding we wanted to have a threesome and finding our third took, quite literally, 3 hours, but I’d imagine it is comparable to when you go to adopt a puppy, and think “omg! This is the one!” – it just felt right, you know? We knew that she was hot, and she was kind, and wasn’t a sociopath looking to come in and wreck our relationship, so it genuinely seemed safe.

It became a massive topic of conversation. We began vocalizing our fantasies out loud while we had sex (“You want to see me eat a pussy?” and yes LORD I did), we discussed our expectations and boundaries in depth, and on at least a dozen occasions I said “oh my GOD are we actually doing this?” jumping around like an idiot while doing the dishes. The thought was so exciting. We are both sexually adventurous people, both naturally hedonistic, seemingly born with a desire to please, so adding a third into the mix felt more like an extension of us. Just something and someone fun to do. We ended up running into her that weekend and fucked like literal maniacs afterwards. It was amazing.

The timeline of deciding on the rendezvous and actually putting it into action took a whopping 10 days. The closer the event came, the more and more I became the most annoying version of myself. “Oh my god, she’s coming in 3 days. Oh my god, she’s coming tomorrow. OH MY GOD SHE’S COMING IN 4 HOURS.” When the time finally came, I prepped my body as if I was going to senior prom all over again (except honestly significantly more.) I waxed my bikini line, did a facial, did a hair mask, shaved my legs, exfoliated my entire body, rummaged my closet, took 10 minutes on my eyebrows. We swept the house, washed the sheets, shined all the latex, and boiled all the sex toys. The energy was fun and frantic and flirty.

Within the comfort of your monogamous relationship, it’s normal to begin to care less about these things, which is not to be taken as a diss. When you see someone essentially every day of your life, you care a lot less about deep conditioning your hair and more about paying your rent on time. Knowing that someone was going to experience our home, our bodies, and our relationship dynamic for the first time took us back to those butterfly-in-tummy vibes – when you actually made an effort to match your socks and tend to your ingrown hairs. It was so sweet knowing my partner was taking the time to landscape their pubes and make sure they looked good in their outfit. I felt like I was going on our first date all over again, which was a really welcoming and unexpected phenomenon.

I’ll fast forward and spare you the visual of me crouched over cleaning the toilet in leather pants (just kidding, there was the visual): She arrived. My partner and I were sitting in separate rooms when I saw her car pull up. As one might imagine, I literally screamed. The following is a rough description of what happened: She came in, we gave her the house tour, we chatted over a glass of champagne (that I admittedly took no more than three sips of because I had taken two power shots when I saw her car pull up) (that and my partner refuses to fuck drunk people which is one of the hundred things I love about them.) And then… we showed her ‘The Drawer.’

Okay, look. My partner and I are sex freaks. If you know either of us in person, I can guarantee that our sex drawer is exactly what you are visualizing. It is filled with latex and leather, and sensory deprivation accessories, and cock lassos, and butt plugs, and dildos and vibrators and weird medical equipment that even freaks us out at times. This was the moment of truth. When you open your sex drawer to someone, you are essentially showing them your lifespan porn history, your darkest fantasies, your bank statement and your daddy issues all at once. It is vulnerable and spooky and oddly exciting. Anyways, she was into it.

After some chatting in the bedroom, we were all clearly getting antsy, so I decided to take initiative. I asked our third to strip to her comfort level. I asked my partner to blindfold her. I took myself in the bathroom, got into a latex get up, and had a full blown Issa Rae style pep talk with myself in the mirror. When I emerged into the bedroom I found our third blindfolded and stripped to her panties, while my partner was rubbing her legs. My first thought was “Oh my god, am I gay?” I was so turned on. The roles of my partner and myself became immediately clear. Here they were, prioritizing comfort and consent, not wanting to overstep any boundaries (especially while I wasn’t in the room), and I come in wearing full domme gear, leather riding crop in hand, alarmingly ready to turn some asses red. My partner is truly the yin to my yang.

I won’t go into too much detail, partially because I blacked a lot of it out (adrenaline, not vodka, I promise) but also because this is meant to be less smut and more narrative; so let’s just say I was in a deviant bitches version of heaven. As someone who identifies as a 96% heterosexual woman, I was honestly anxious about having a vulva in my face. Believe me when I say I am a huge preacher of “vagina’s are snowflakes,” but admittedly, I’m picky (don’t come for me I am literally just straight.) I was so relieved that when our third was naked before us, I was in absolute awe. My dreamboat of a partner, a beautiful naked person, and a nightstand covered with sex toys; I could’ve died right then and been totally cool with it (except our third did not sign up for Necrophilia 101 and let’s be honest I knew immediately that I wanted to do it again.)

The one thing that put me the most at ease was our ability to prioritize comfort. This has to take form in various ways. Being comfortable enough to assert what you want: harder, deeper, lower, just spread my butt cheeks more, being comfortable enough to fumble (i.e. having to literally remove our third’s fingers from my body after dropping the magic wand on the floor and watching it vibrate its way across the room,) being comfortable enough to show someone a drawer filled with electric stimulation pads and urethral sounds (unused, before anyone freaks out), being comfortable enough to ask someone to swap gloves so you don’t exchange bacteria. It is seriously vital. In porn, we often see someone take their dick out of one vagina and put it in the other, and in reality that just isn’t safe. That being said, when our third hopped out of bed and put on gloves without being instructed, I felt like a proud mom (except like horny step mom that fucks the girl next door), because not only was she prioritizing our safety, but she was also simultaneously not judging us for wearing medical exam gloves while we fucked. Truly a win-win.

In summary, we all came, we cleaned up, and we sat on the bed after and recapped straight slumber party style. A visual: All of us are wearing crop tops and undies, drinking Moscato from the bottle, a murder scene of sex accessories littering the floor beside us. During this time, I was paying close attention to my emotions. I had been a third to a couple once in the past, and the girl told me that immediately after the horny feelings subsided, she cried a lot. I was waiting for this feeling to sweep over me, but instead, my thoughts were more “oh my god, I can’t believe I forgot to fuck her with the strap on.” It was all really, really pleasant.

After she left, my partner and I had sex once again, and for the next few days we brought it up at least once every hour or so. In the middle of an art fair: “Remember when you first walked into the room and grabbed her? That was my favorite part.” in the middle of eating pancakes: “Do you think she came good?” in the last few seconds of a Warriors vs. Clippers game: “My finger literally went into her ass on accident.” It was like a Facebook memory popping up to remind you that you are a sex goddess, rather than an unfortunate seventh grader with side swoop bangs.

In addition to these micro bursts of horny memories zapping me throughout the day, I also found myself feeling tremendously liberated all around. Suddenly, I felt like that bitch. I felt more sure of myself and my relationship than ever before. I felt proud of my ability to casually share my wonderful partner with someone else. I also experienced some unexpected but cutesy and innocent feelings of having a crush, like, omg I wonder if she’s told her friends, I wonder if she liked us, I wonder if she’ll want to come back. I still feel all of that.

Some people might read this thinking: Emily, was this really worth a 4000 word essay? It’s a threesome, chill, people do this all the time; while others might think: Hell no, I would never let my partner fuck someone else! Both to which I respond: I get it. A ton of people take comfort in routine, and monogamy, and would never think of sharing their partner’s bodies with someone else. Other people are more laissez faire, and are totally cool with the thought. I guess I fall somewhere in the in-between. The reason I am writing this is solely to inform others of one thing above all else, and that is: When you allow someone else to be with your partners body, it is solely that: their body. You must be able to compartmentalize your sexuality. The sex you have with your partner right after a fight, or at 7a.m. half hard and half asleep, or after a romantic anniversary dinner can never be replaced by a 10p.m Friday night Ménage à trois, nor is it meant to. You are not lending out your partner’s heart, you are lending out their oral sex game because you yourself find it to be phenomenal and you want someone else to experience it.

Your third doesn’t get to know the exact 45 degree angle at which your partner likes their penis stroked, or the exact string of words that’ll make you cum in seconds, or how you like your scalp rubbed before you fall asleep. They are there for newness, for fun, and for straight up sexual gratification. Their roll is essentially to cum and leave (after sitting cross legged blushing over the fact that you both have outie vulvas, and also, like maybe not leaving forever because you might want them to come back in the future!) not to rock your partner’s world and leave them looking at you like an old pair of beat up sneakers or whatever. If you are worried about your third outshining you, or your partner developing feelings, or your primary and secondary running off and having some kind of love affair, then a threesome just is not for you. Having a fear of infidelity as a result is a pretty clear indicator that something deeper is going on, and why subject yourself to unnecessary anxiety if you don’t have to? (PSA: You don’t have to.)

A threesome will not fix your relationship if it is on the rocks. It will not mend your trust issues. It will (likely) not cure your diminished libido. It will not grant you any otherwise unreciprocated respect in your relationship. You get no brownie points. A threesome is literally a novel concept. It is to witness your partner in action outside of your standard point of view. It is to learn new things that turn you on and turn you off. It is to remind yourself that you can be in a long term, serious, primarily monogamous relationship and still be able to experience the joy of other people’s bodies in a safe and controlled environment. It is to fuck, and to get fucked. To cum, and to make cum. It is to let someone eat you out that doesn’t eat you out every day.

If you came here for my recipe for a successful threesome, here is what I can suggest: (Please keep in mind that I am a literal amateur, but I do feel confident in my knowledge, so here you go:) First, plan accordingly. Plan around your menstrual cycle, around your work schedule, when you can get a baby sitter, etc. Then communicate! The communication is pivotal before, during, and after, but it is especially important beforehand as this can make or break your situation. Discuss your boundaries: What are your hard limits? What would you like to try? What are some things you know you like, know you don’t like? Which toys strike your fancy? What are some names you like to be called? What are your pronouns? What terminology do you prefer us reference your genitals with? Which parts of your body are off limits? When was the last time you were tested? Are you wanting to keep this between us three, or can I write a 4,000 word blog post about it? I could go on and on.

Other important things to discuss are rules and expectations (which fall under the umbrella of communication.) Some of my rules were that I didn’t want them being in contact without me knowing, so no exchanging of phone numbers or socials, and we also unanimously decided that there would be no penis in vagina intercourse. Some other rules to consider might be: Areas of the body that can and cannot be touched (anyone say asshole? Cause I sure didn’t), if the third can stay the night, certain sentimental pet names to avoid, etc. Some expectations that I outlined were basically just that everyone do what I say. Surprisingly, this was less of me being ‘the dick manager’ and more of me being more dominant in nature. Luckily, my partner and my third are (or at least were) more sub leaning, so they happily obliged. Other expectations were that everyone felt comfortable to speak freely, to take breaks, to vocalize their needs, and to stop if they needed to stop. Also I wanted to know a general idea of what I was expected to wear and what kind of energy I was expected to bring to the table.

Another massive thing to consider is safety. Do you have any transmittable diseases or infections? Are you feeling sick? Are you allergic to any materials? Are you willing to sanitize toys, change condoms, use gloves, use barriers, and wipe down the hitachi head when switching partners? If not, seriously don’t even consider. It is selfish, and potentially transmitting infections, getting someone sick, or GOD forbid pregnant is seriously not worth the extra set of hands. Clearly talk about safety, make it accessible (condoms and toy cleaner by the bed) and don’t let yourself get too drunk to forget about it.

Something that proved to be really important to us was someone who would honestly just accept us for the freaks that we are. Lack of judgement is important in any activity where you are putting yourself on display, but especially in a sexual situation. Imagine if you came to someone with your deepest desires and they crinkled their nose in disgust? It is honestly world shattering. So, plan your threesome with someone who you know is open minded. In my case, I am lucky that I am pretty outwardly filthy online, so our third likely had some type of idea, but in the case of anyone else, use your best judgement, and have some conversations around the topic. Be clear about your wants and your needs. You want to be able to proudly ask for someone to shove a dildo in your ass, not be hesitant and afraid. Both your orgasm and your dignity are on the line here.

Another thing I would like to highlight is that although the role of the third (in our case at least) is to essentially serve as a human sex toy, they are exactly that: a human. It is crucial that you are checking in, making sure they feel catered to, and safe, and comfortable. I’d like to think this is too obvious to state, but in the event that it’s not, I will say it: Everyone’s comfort and pleasure should be a priority. Only in some fucked up alternate universe does inviting someone new into the bedroom mean you start prioritizing one person’s body over the other. Everyone is equal and worthy of respect, and just because someone might get off on being called a slut in the bed, doesn’t mean they want to continue to feel like a slut once they leave your house. Be mindful. A good third understands that that their role is temporary and doesn’t need to be reminded through negligence of their basic human emotions.

My last point to touch on is how to bring up the subject to your partner, which will likely vary from relationship to relationship. My partner and I are very laid back. Our approach to sexuality is much less focused around ‘the art of seduction’ and much more on direct pleasure and connection. Like, instead of lighting candles to ‘set a mood’ we are lighting candles to pour the wax on each other… because it feels good… you know? So in my case, it was as simple as asking directly because we are always direct with requests. Other people might need more tenderness. You might consider saying: “While I am totally satisfied with our sex life, I was wondering if you would ever be interested in introducing another person into the mix? I think it would be a fun way for both of us to explore, together, and safely, as we would be in view of one another.” Clearly state your expectations, your desires, and your intentions. And if your partner declines, respect their decision. Nothing should be forced on anyone, and asserting time and time again that you want to fuck someone else will likely leave your partner feeling like they aren’t good enough. Then you don’t get your threesome and your partner feels like shit. Was it really worth asking that fourth time?

Returning to my first question (me questioning my overall sanity) – before, during, and after the fact, I realized what was going on inside of me was that I was finally dating someone that I trusted entirely. The reason that I was able to walk into a room to find my partner sitting in bed with a beautiful naked person and not literally vomit is because they weren’t doing anything to me, they were doing something with me. If you are proposing a threesome to keep your partner’s interest, or to prove something shallow to yourself, spare yourself the energy. I have said it before and I will say it again: Expanding outside of monogamy should always be from an abundance rather than a lack thereof. You should not be thinking “My girlfriend doesn’t let me fuck her in the ass, so maybe our third will.” You should be thinking “My partner does this really amazing thing with their tongue, and it would be really hot to see how someone else reacts to it.” (And maybe if you’re lucky your third will gladly take it up the ass?)

So, wrapping up, perhaps you should consider having a threesome if you: Are secure in your relationship, if you find your partner to be too hot to keep to yourself, if you have an abundance of trust and respect for one another, if you are both willing to respect boundaries and safety measures, if you are wanting to explore other bodies while keeping your partner included, or if you are horny hedonists looking for some good spank material. You should not consider having a threesome if you: Feel pressured to, if you think it will mend an otherwise crumbling relationship, if you are feeling insecure, if you have trust issues, if your partner has expressed romantic interest in the third, if either of you have had a relationship with the third in the past (could get messy), if you are not attracted to the third, or if it is a last ditch effort to impress your partner.

Realistically, there are probably hundreds of reasons why introducing someone into your bedroom is or is not a good idea, so please note that I do realize I am only speaking to a small percentage of people. The reality just is that: like a raw vegan diet is not for everybody, like funneling a beer is not for everybody, like adopting a cat, or backpacking through Europe, or learning how to unicycle is not for everybody, having group sex is not for everybody. It is okay to leave certain kinds of activities to certain kinds of people, no matter how intriguing they might seem from a distance.

By no means am I saying that all group sex configurations must be rooted in love. They can be rooted in lust, in adventure, in curiosity – but one thing that is absolutely CRUCIAL is that they are rooted in trust. I trust that you will switch condoms and sterilize shared toys. I trust that you will respect my body and my boundaries and my concerns. I trust that you won’t turn into a pussy crazed lunatic and start trying to have threesomes weekly. I trust my partner with everything from my social security number to my incest fantasies, which means, most importantly, that I trust that they won’t go off and try to fuck anyone without me. If you have any doubt in your mind that you are doing this for reasons outside of solely hedonistic, pure, and/or loving intentions, consider reconsidering.

Now to share some gratitude: Thank you massively to my partner for allowing me to fulfill my sexual destiny, for supporting all my impulsive endeavors, for prioritizing my orgasms, and for never making me feel small (unless I want to feel small, then thank you for catering to that too.) Thank you so much to you, dream third, for making us both feel safe, for coming into our dynamic with an open mind, for feeling comfortable enough to not only share your body with us but also your stories, and your requests, and your positive energy (and for tolerating my demands and recurring slapping.) And thank you to anyone who has read all of this x so so much love.

[kotoriqueen]

Merry Christmas, @comic-book-reider!! I am excited to say that I am your Secret Santa from @heith-secret-santa!! 

I’ll be honest - I was pretty busy so I would have liked to finish this sooner, but it’s four days before Christmas and hey, I finished it now, so I might as well post it now! I’ll also be honest again: I had a little trouble writing a trans/autistic Keith but I had a little help and I’d like to apologize now if this is something you aren’t hoping for but I tried really, really hard! 

Anyway, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and all that. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it!! 

Voltron; Heith; 3200+ Words. Will post to AO3 later on (if I remember).

Keith could honestly say winter was his favourite season of all.

Others would argue; winter was filled with snow and ice, requiring a lot of work to shovel and drivers being cautious and slow. Christmas music is in the air, causing headaches, as well as Christmas shopping stress making those headaches even worse. Heating bills are going high up, kids are home from school for winter break. There’s several things that would make someone argue with Keith, but there’s many reasons why Keith loves winter.

Firstly, compared to their terribly hot summer, where Keith felt uncomfortable almost all the time, Keith had no problems getting comfortable as soon as winter started. Wearing a binder was hard in the summer time, where the fabric stuck to his skin and sometimes he found it hard to breathe properly. Taking it off in public would make him feel dysphoric, especially since he couldn’t wear many layers or risk passing out from the heat. He wouldn’t take off his binder unless he was home in his apartment, and even then he felt uncomfortable not wearing it. But at least he could breathe normal, and his boyfriend wouldn’t look at him any differently if he didn’t wear it.

With that note, Keith’s pleased to know he could wear as many layers of clothes as he wanted, and no one would know if he wore his binder that day or not. The soft sweaters he had felt nice against his skin, and earmuffs blocked out the loud honking from irritated drivers when people were going to slow. And with winter, Keith had a valid excuse to stay indoors. Sometimes he felt socializing emotionally draining, and sometimes he just wanted to be alone even if his boyfriend was home. His boyfriend, the kind soul he was, seemed to understand that perfectly and waited for Keith to come to him.

The second thing he liked about winter is that he could cuddle up against Hunk all he wanted. In the summer, he and his boyfriend couldn’t cuddle as often because it was simply to hot too. Keith loves the feeling of Hunk’s strong arms around him, with one hand stroking his back and the other going through his hair. It was the most comfortable feeling in the world, especially combined with their body temperatures.

And, sure, autumn would be the perfect weather for all of this, too, but the noise of the leaves crunching loudly beneath his and other peoples feet bothered him. He couldn’t seem to get away from the noise and it would cause him to shut himself out sometimes. Whereas, with the snow, noises are softened and the snow doesn’t crunch as bad as leaves did. Pavement and streets are covered in soft snow, so even boots don’t hit the pavement; the snow just crunches softly underneath their feet. And that doesn’t bother Keith as much as the leaves.

And thirdly.. well, ever since he started living with Shiro, Christmas seemed to mean more to him. There was a big tree in the living room, and lights hung up all around the house. It’s no different in Keith’s and Hunk’s apartment. They have a tree, too; big and covered in garland, lights, and ornaments. There’s an angel atop the tree that Keith can’t seem to stop staring at. Then there’s presents under the tree, each wrapping paper different. Their friends had agreed to have a Christmas party at their apartment this year, too, which is why tons of presents are under the tree instead of just a few between the two of them.

The Christmas party starts tonight; it’s Christmas eve after all and there’s still things they need to prepare for. Keith’s nervous, he’s not going to lie about that. He’s nervous about the loud noises; music and voices both. He knows his friends will understand if he needs to shut himself in a quiet room for a while, but he still doesn’t want to spoil the party any by leaving. Besides, he and Hunk are supposed to be hosts of this Christmas party. How could he get up and leave?

But as of right now, Keith’s still curled up underneath his and Hunk’s shared quilted comforter. He’s wearing one his own long sleeved shirts, with one of Hunk’s shirts on top of it. He’s very comfortable underneath all this warmth that he just doesn’t want to get out of bed. As comfortable as he was, he was awake. His body didn’t want him to sleep anymore! With a sigh, he tries to force himself to go back to sleep, but he hears the front door open as well as jangling of keys. Followed by the crinkle of paper bags and then footsteps across the hardwood floor. They get closer, and then the bedroom door opens and Keith peeks his head out from underneath the comforter.

“Babe?” Hunk softly calls out, and there’s a wide smile on his face to see Keith awake. He walks softly to the bed and sits down on it, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Keith’s forehead. “Glad to see you’re awake, but won’t you get out of bed?”

“I’ll think about it,” Keith says at first, giving himself a second to think before shaking his head. “Nope. Staying here. It’s warm under here.”

“Keith.. Come on, I bought you a sweater for tonight. It’s soft, I promise you.”

“Will you make hot chocolate while I get ready?” Keith questions and Hunk nods as a response. “With--”

“No marshmallows and extra whipped cream,” Hunk interrupts. “I got it, babe. I’ll leave the bag on the bed.”

Hunk sets a plastic bag on the bed and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. Keith takes a moment to get out of the bed, wandering to the door where his binder hung on a hook, air drying since the night before. Hunk had washed it out for him by hand so he could be comfortable and feel clean for tonight’s party. Sometimes Keith wishes he had a second one, but they were rather pricey and even with them both working – Keith helping in the kitchen of the cafe Hunk works in – he knows he should save his money for bills and things than spend it on a second binder when he has a perfectly good one right there.

Keith decides to take a quick shower first, drying himself off before slipping on his binder and a pair of festive boxers to go underneath his jeans. He knows no one will see the Christmas light boxers he had on underneath, but he thought they were festive and hilarious looking so he decided to buy them at first glance. (Plus, he needed more boxers, no matter how stupid they looked as long as they were comfortable.)

He slips on a pair of jeans, and a belt around the loops before he digs through the bag and pulls out the sweater. It’s a soft, knitted material, and it’s rather festive, too, fitting for tonight. It’s red; neither too bright or too dark. There’s white snowflake, tree, and reindeer designs on it. On the shirt, it says ‘Ho-Ho-Ho HOMO’ in white, and the two symbols for male are interlocked underneath, the pattern repeating around the back of the sweater, as well. Keith snorts at the sweater, wondering who would make such a thing, but he loves it all the same. He slips it on over his head, realizing it’s a size or two too big for him, making the sleeves go over his hands a little, fingertips poking out from under the cuffs.

He loves it. After slipping on a pair of socks, he steps out of the room to the kitchen, where Hunk is making hot chocolate and baking cookies at the same time. Hunk notices Keith coming into the kitchen and he beams when he sees Keith wearing the sweater.

“You’re wearing it!”

“Of course I am,” Keith’s smiling wide, too, and he walks over to the counter, sitting up on a stool by the little island in the kitchen. “Where did you find this thing?”

“There was a store in the mall that had it on the clearance rack,” Hunk explains as he uses Christmas cookie cutters to cut fun shapes into the cookie dough. “It was either that size or something six times too small for you. And since you like wearing my shirts a lot..”

“I love it, Hunk. Thank you.” Keith rests his head in the palms of his hands, watching his boyfriend bake. “When is everyone coming over?”

“Not until six. So we have a while to prepare.” Hunk responds, and stops his baking to take care of the hot chocolate. He drops a few marshmallows into one mug and then puts some whipped cream in that, followed by putting tons of whipped cream in another. “Here you go.”

“Thanks. Do you need help with anything?”

“Actually,” Hunk puts some festive sprinkles over the cookies before popping them into the oven, setting the timer. “can you sit out here and then come get me when there’s five minutes left on the timer? I have some more presents to wrap.”

“I thought you got everyone something?”

“I bought a few extra things. I should be done wrapping by then.”

“Okay,” Keith leans in, pecking Hunk’s cheek. “I’ll stay here.”

“Thanks, babe.”

Hunk leaves the kitchen, gathering up a few more paper bags he left on the kitchen table and moves to the bedroom. He had bought Keith a new binder a month ago that came in yesterday, and he was thankful enough to be at home when it came. Plus, at the mall, he had bought Keith a liquid motion bubbler, which was somewhat like a lava lamp but Keith could move around. With it’s slow and rhythmic motions, it’s supposed to help autistic people with sensory issues and stay focused.

Also he may have noticed that Keith bit on his pencils a lot and his nails, so he bought him a silicone brick that was around a thin cording that he could chew on instead. He honestly hopes Keith would like these things, as well as the pack of boxers he bought him and the other clothes he purchased from the men’s section. With Shiro’s help, he was able to find things that Keith would like style wise and that would make him feel comfortable in every season, not just winter.

He knows Keith’s not a huge fan of wrapping paper, so he got decorative boxes instead. They came in different sizes, so Keith could stack them or put them inside each other if he’d like to. At least wrapping was easy for Keith’s presents, and this just meant he’d be ready for when Keith came to get him about the cookies.

“I buy too much for people..” Hunk tells himself as he wraps a set of books for Pidge before setting them in a messenger bag; thick and durable to hold many books and their laptop. He starts wrapping that, as well, and once it’s wrapped, he ties ribbon around it and sets it off to the side. “Let’s see.. that should have taken care of everyone.”

There’s a soft knock on the door and Keith peeks his head inside, “Hunk? There’s five minutes on the timer.”

“Thanks, babe,” Hunk grabs the boxes and Pidge’s gift and makes way to the tree, setting them down with the other gifts. “We have to wait for the cookies to cool off though before you can have first dibs.”

“I’ve been saving some of my hot chocolate to dip the cookies in. To soften them up.” Keith says as he walks back to the kitchen with Hunk. “But will it be cold by the time the cookies are cooled off?”

“I’ll make you another mug of hot chocolate, Keith. It’ll probably take thirty minutes before they are cooled off. We can watch something in the meantime.”

“Sounds good.”

----

The Christmas party goes off without a hitch. Everyone either shows up early or on time, some too early to help Keith and Hunk with final preparations. As soon as everyone was there and accounted for, Christmas music was played and refreshments were served. There were a few times during the night that where Keith had to leave because the noise was too much for him but each time, it was either Hunk, Shiro, or the both of them that followed after just to make sure he was alright. If it was past Keith, he would have preferred to be alone, and sometimes he still does, but having Hunk and Shiro in his life seemed to help him through the years.

Close to the end of the party, gifts were passed out. Christmas music was turned off and everyone found a seat either on a chair, the sofa, or on the ground. Things were given to Hunk and Keith, as thank you’s for hosting such a lovely party. Other presents were passed out and as everyone was talking amongst themselves, Hunk gathered the things he had gotten for Keith and gestured him to their shared bedroom, where Keith follows. Once in the bedroom, Hunk places the presents on the bed and Keith shuts the door.

“What is it?”

“Your presents,” is Hunk’s response at first, but that response is too vague and makes Keith raise an eyebrow. “I figured it’d be better if you opened your gifts in here. I know it’s a while before Christmas, but everyone else opened theirs, so..”

“You want me to open mine now.” Keith says and Hunk nods as a response. Keith glances at the decorative boxes before moving towards the bed, going to sit down on the edge. “There sure is a lot of them..”

“Of course. Is that bad? I have receipts for everything you don’t like, but this is our first Christmas together in the apartment. I wanted it to be special,” Hunk tells him, sitting down right besides him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “But I have a feeling you’ll like them all.”

Keith smiles softly at Hunk and starts from smallest to biggest. Most of the items are either sensory toys or clothing – which the latter Keith did not have enough of. His clothes are either all of the same things with either black or red or hand-me-downs from Shiro when he started living with him. Keith never complained, but he found cloth shopping to take up too much of his time and very draining. Which is why he rarely goes shopping with Hunk, and Keith prefers buying things online over going into the stores.

There were shirts, and pants, and athletic wear – so many clothes Keith feels as if it’s too much. Hunk’s the best boyfriend he could ask for; accepting and stuck with him for nearly three years, and even longer before they became boyfriends. Keith gets to his last box, the biggest one of the stack. He opens it, and there’s jogging pants and a new jacket in there, and underneath those two items is a new binder. Keith freezes when his eyes land on it. He was just thinking that he needed a new binder, and Hunk went around and got him another one. He looks up at Hunk, with wide eyes and jaw dropped. Hunk has a wide smile on his face but fades into confusion when he sees Keith’s reaction.

“Do you not like it?” Hunk questions. “You’ve been wearing the same one for a long time now. It might not be worn out because you take good care of it, but you really needed a new one, Keith, so..”

“No!” the sudden response and the raise of his tone made Hunk flinch for a moment. “No, I mean.. I love it. I love everything. You seem to have read my mind since I was thinking how I needed a new binder anyway. You’re so-- you’re so thoughtful, Hunk, and I love that so much about you. And no matter how many times I tell you that I don’t deserve you, well-- to be honest, I don’t? I really don’t, especially on holidays and birthdays because you go all out and yet, it’s so hard for me to find the perfect gifts for you..”

Keith lets out a deep breath and moves from the bed to their closet, opening the door and taking out the gift bags he had for Hunk. There were three of them; two large and a medium sized one. And compared to all the gifts Hunk got for Keith, the gifts he got for Hunk couldn’t possibly own up to what Hunk got him. Keith’s nervous, but he hands the bags over anyway and sits back down on the bed, pushing his presents off to the side. That gives Hunk enough space to open them, starting with the medium sized bag. In that bag, there’s several small things. There’s a small box, that contained a watch; beautiful and silver with a black band and a buckle for a clasp. He knows how much of a fan Hunk is of Disney, as well as the Kingdom Hearts games, and with Keith being a fan of Hot Topic, it seemed easy to find Disney merchandise for the big guy.

And you can never have enough knick-knacks, which is one of the many things Keith was looking for. They had a few empty shelves in their bedroom and living room, not the mention all the space they had on the front of their fridge. Sure, there were having a few magnets, but Hot Topic was having a good deal on their Disney magnets, so Keith had picked up quite a few of them. He grabbed Belle and Chip from Beauty and the Beast and then the two Kingdom Hearts magnets of Sora and Riku. There were a few blind bags in there; one of Mickey and friends, the other having Aladdin, Abu, King Triton, Genie, and then the animals and/or mascots from other movies, and the third blind bag is of the Disney Princesses. They’re all keychains, and he knows Hunk will find some place to put them up for show. Finally, there’s a pop figure of a Heartless from Kingdom Hearts, one of Rajah from Aladdin, and one of Mulan.

In the two larger bags, one contained a new jacket; big and bulky so Hunk can layer up underneath without feeling stiff. And the other large bag had a ‘Funcle’ shirt since Keith knows how much Hunk loves his nieces and nephews, a couple long sleeved shirts, and a cookbook. He knows Hunk has several cookbooks, as well as a container filled with recipe cards, only this one is a 365 days of cookies cookbook. Hunk snorts at the name, and even though he silently agrees he has enough recipes, he and Keith could try out some of these recipes together.

“Aw, Keith..” Hunk starts, scooting over to his boyfriend. He hugs him close, pecking kisses all over his face. “How can you say that you don’t deserve me? You’re gifts are perfect, Keith, and I love every single one, just like how I love you.”

“That’s so cheesy that we’re going to have a mice infested apartment.”

“Mm, I don’t care.” Hunk continues peppering kisses over Keith’s face, making his poor boyfriend squirm from all the attention. “As long as they don’t interrupt us.”

“Huuuunk. We have to get back to the party!”

“They’ll be fine without us,” Hunk says and then he sighs, pulling back a little before resting his forehead on Keith’s. “Merry Christmas, Keith.”

Keith smiles wide, a small laugh leaving his lips, “Merry Christmas, Hunk..”

[portscutie]

Things Fall Apart (Others Fall Together)

Group: BTS (Bangtan Boys) Pairings: Yoonminseok (Suga X Jimin X J-Hope) Word Count: 8K~ Rating: PG-13 Genre: Polyamorous Relationships, Little Space, Domestic Fluff, Light Angst Summary: With the bedroom door closed between them and a raging Hoseok, Jimin began really breaking down. “I don’t want daddy to be my daddy anymore!” Jimin’s eyes were squeezed tight, tears still somehow escaping and falling from his rapidly puffing eyes. His arms were wrapped around Yoongi’s middle, the little using all his strength to hold on to his boyfriend. “Yoonie, I don’t like Seokkie-daddy no—n-no mo’! I w-want you to be my daddy!” (A/N: Dedicated to @suga-peaches; I love you & enjoy, hun) Links: AO3 // Masterlist

"Jiminnie?" Hoseok called, voice drifting from the kitchen where he was hunched over cutting apples for snack time and into the adjacent living room. "Did you wash your hands?"

"Yes, daddy!" came Jimin’s answer, socked feet scampering across the hardwood as his body came colliding with the doorframe, little damp hands gripping the wood for balance. "All clean, daddy! Yoonie too!"

Hoseok smiled, placing the knife down on the cutting board before wiping the sticky juices from his hand with a dishtowel. He walked over to Jimin, a fond glow in his eyes. "That's my good baby." He pinched one of Jimin's chubby cheeks before bopping his nose, the yellow kitchen filling with the younger’s laughter. "Now tell Yoon-ah that it's time for snackie, ‘kay?"

"Okay!" Jimin ran off to deliver the message, Hoseok turning to collect the small plastic bowls decorated with Scooby Doo and spoons with SpongeBob handles before dishing the green apples and dollops of peanut butter. It was already eleven am and Yoongi was always a tad hungry for a snack after his morning playtime. The two never ate a heavy lunch; much preferring to save room for an elaborate home cooked dinner instead. Picking up the bowls and placing them on a tray, Hoseok moved to enter the living room.

The first thing he noticed was that Yoongi had commandeered the couch leaving Jimin to sprawl out on the beige carpeted floor. They both were dressed in knee-high socks, loose blue denim shorts, and their matching mini capsule shirts, a special request from Jimin because Hoseok’s boyfriends were “filled with love for our daddy.”

“What’cha got there, Minnie?” Hoseok asked, as he got closer to the younger little.

When Little, Jimin was prone to stim. Jimin had told Hoseok that in the early days of his entering into little space, he was more frustrated in his space than he was out of it. He would suddenly get these urges to rub objects together, put things in his mouth, shake or rattle tables just to hear the soothing sound of wood creaking. He slowly started collecting makeshift toys for when he was Little to assuage these urges, not really knowing why certain things made him feel better, less frustrated, than others. It wasn’t until much later (and meeting psychology minor Yoongi) that Jimin learned about sensory stimulation and just how good it felt to fill up a pot with soft rainbow suds to submerge his hands in. When properly stimulated Jimin found that when he turned Big again his mind was more relaxed, free of any blockage of his creative juices. Jimin felt that his need to stim made him more emotionally aware, closer to and in touch with the world around him. 

“Look, Daddy, I made p-purple! ” Jimin shook a plastic bag up for Hoseok to see the smeared and lumpy mess inside.

Years later, Jimin found his sensory niche in play-doh. His favorite thing to do was to put two different colors of play-doh in a Ziploc bag and use his lime green rolling pin and his fingers to roll and mush the colors together until they blended into a marbled masterpiece. When not focused on his play-doh, though, Jimin would opt to pull out the pack of pull-ups Hoseok stored in the closet of the littles’ playroom. Jimin loved playing with the pull-ups because the tiny characters on them never failed to make him smile and there was something just so exciting about stretching the elastic waistbands on them until they snapped back into place, the little’s arm muscles burning from his constant efforts.

“That’s beautiful, Jiminnie, the color matches your shirt so well. Can you please put it away for later, though? Snackie is here for Daddy’s little muchkins!”

Walking up to the coffee table in front of the couch Hoseok moved over Yoongi’s array of toy instruments with one hand and placed down the tray of food. The two boys jumped over to the table, crossing their legs, and began to eat. Hoseok, smile on his face as he watched Jimin smear peanut butter on Yoongi’s chin before giggling and trying to lick it off, started to absentmindedly press keys on Yoongi’s piano. The small model was the cuter version of its twin located in Yoongi’s studio.

When Yoongi was Big he spent his days and nights producing music for therapeutic services, mostly with classical instruments, which he recorded onto albums. When in his headspace, resting at home on is days off with his boyfriends, Yoongi was an altogether different kind of musician, one with far more freedom.

Yoongi prized his toy piano; it only had three keys on it—the primary colors—but he smashed them as if they were ivory and full of potential. Over the three years that Hoseok has been caring for Yoongi the little had assembled his own mini orchestra. Along with his piano he had vibrant trumpets, violins, a cello, clarinet, and a metal triangle in his percussion section, all seats manned by stuffed animals he borrowed from Jimin’s bed. Yoongi played these instruments horribly out of tune, off key, and loud—all to contrast the grueling, stressful perfection he set for himself in his therapist career. 

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Yoonie?” Hoseok reached his hand out to ruffle Yoongi’s blonde hair, stopping the two notes—do and re—from ringing in the air.

“Daddy play ‘iano too?”

Jimin stopped chewing, ears perking with interest. He knew Hoseok didn’t know how to play the piano but he still loved watching his two boyfriends mess around with music. Once, Hoseok had jokingly played the theme to Titanic through his nose on Yoongi’s yellow clarinet and it had Jimin doubled over laughing for what felt like hours. “Can Daddy play Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star?” Jimin asked through a mouthful of peanut butter, tongue almost stuck to the roof of his mouth.

Hoseok chuckled. “I don’t know how well I can but I can try if my baby wants me to.”

Jimin bounced in his seat, hands coming up to clap clumsily, SpongeBob spoon in-between. “Yeah! Jiminnie wants Daddy to play!”

Hoseok looked to Yoongi who was nodding delightedly, his forearms covered in light brown from his attempts at wiping off the mess Jimin failed to lick off. With an exaggerated rolling of his sleeves and a throat clearing Hoseok started to press down on the red and blue keys again, and sung. 

“Twinkle, twinkle, little boys, 

Daddy’s playing with your toys

Up above the world so high

Daddy searches in the sky

Twinkle, twinkle, little boys,

When he finds you he’ll find joy.”

When he was finished off with a rapid staccato of the yellow key Jimin’s clapping resumed, throwing his small body back against a pillow. “Daddy, that was better than last time!”

“Yeah, maybe one day Daddy can practice and get betterer enough to join my band… maybe.” Yoongi said this every time Hoseok tried to play a note—whether jokingly or seriously—but he suspected Yoongi wouldn’t hesitate to let him join if Hoseok asked. (The little enjoyed conducting and directing as much as he liked playing in the band—but he loved including his two boyfriends in the fun even more.) 

After the littles finished their snack Hoseok kissed them each on their cheek and sent them off to wash up in the bathroom and grab some more weather-appropriate pants. Meanwhile, he cleared the empty bowls and deposited them in the sink and wiped a wet rag over the small mess they had made on the table. Now, it was time for their afternoon walk.

Grabbing Yoongi and Jimin’s coats out the closet he waited for his babies to come out to the hall. Jimin was the first to emerge wearing jeans, tripping over his feet as he ran to Hoseok and collided into his chest, grabby hands reaching for his blue coat and red sneakers. Yoongi came out in thermos and sweatpants less enthusiastically but eyes still shimmering as he zeroed in on the extremely large scarf draped over Hoseok’s arm.

Yoongi reached around Jimin and grabbed the green and blue knitted scarf, made by Hoseok himself, and started twisting and winding it around his body—more of it on his waist and torso than his actual neck—before Hoseok steadied him with a hand to his shoulder. “Coat first, Yoonie, you know that.” With a small huff and prominent pout Yoongi let Hoseok unwind him, the little giggling as he spun in a circle and got dizzy, then stumbled over to put on his jacket near Jimin, Yoongi’s arms out to allow Hoseok to zip it up for him. When the two were all zipped and buttoned, a blue winter hat designed to mimic the shape of a mermaid’s tail to cover Jimin’s brown hair and a white and black panda one for Yoongi, then Hoseok allowed Yoongi to don his favorite winter gear.

The idea Hoseok had when creating the scarf was to mirror what he’d seen online as a “couple’s scarf,” except this one was lengthy enough for three people. Unfortunately, Yoongi’s penchant for long scarves in general made it nearly impossible for Hoseok to have any material left for himself so he’d had to accept his fate of watching the two cutest people ever share a three-person scarf, tassels hanging down nearly to their knees, while Hoseok cooed from where he walked behind them. The scarf was blended with colors they’d all chosen: white by Yoongi, green by Hoseok, and blue by Jimin. The scarf was striped and at the end Hoseok had tied the loose ends together to create a colorful fringe that swayed as the littles walked and knocked against their legs.

At first, when they learned that Hoseok couldn’t fit in the scarf (No, Jiminnie, I’m here to take care of your needs, so if Yoonie wants long scarves then he can have long scarves) Jimin was more than a tad upset. Yoongi, just as weak to a sad Jimin as Hoseok was, suggested an alternative. 

Leaving the house for their weekly walk through the park Jimin was all smiles as he wiggled his fingers in the overly big red glove engulfing his right hand. Behind him, Hoseok inconspicuously rubbed at the tight band of the blue mitten digging into his wrist. Jimin’s hands were way smaller than Hoseok’s but if it made his baby happy then Hoseok would be willing to wear both of his youngest boyfriend’s tiny mittens in exchange for his own. Luckily, his other hand was covered by the yellow glove that, every time, Yoongi would shyly extend for his daddy to take, the long-fingered glove a way better match for Hoseok than the one Jimin excitingly and forcefully shoved over his daddy’s cramped fingers. 

On Jimin’s left hand was his other mitten and Yoongi’s right wore the mate of his yellow glove. The two held hands and Hoseok resisted the urge to just hug them to his chest and squeal loudly about how adorable they were. Yoongi’s idea for them all to share gloves was the cutest solution he could ever come up with (but next year he’d make sure to knit an even longer scarf so he could get in on the warm huddles, too).

When they got to the park, sneakers crunching though frosted grass, Hoseok couldn’t be more thankful he’d thought ahead and dressed the boys in their thick teal woolen socks before they’d left. It hadn’t snowed yet so he didn’t think they needed to bring out the snow boots but it was getting more frigid every day as winter rolled in. The sky was a dusty gray as the dull winter ambiance settled in among the trees but the sun was fighting to burn off the mist. There were still a few scattered leaves blowing through the bushes that had somehow escaped the city’s landscapers and tiny wildflower survivors coated in white crystals. The cold air burned in their lungs and rejuvenated them from the past week cooped up inside. 

There weren’t many people out but they did get to stop and pet the occasional dog on a walk with its owner. Each time a puppy came along the path Jimin would drag Yoongi over to it by the hand and drop to his knees to hug it, the other little following after to press kisses between the dog’s ears. It got to the point where Hoseok would run ahead first to quickly ask permission of the owner before the littles could startle anyone (also to make sure the dog was safe for touching). Big dogs were slightly harder to handle because Jimin, when Little, was afraid of them and tended to hide behind Yoongi who still made it his mission to approach and kiss each dog equally. When this happened Hoseok would pick up Jimin and sit him on his hip so he could hide his face in Hoseok’s neck but, since the little was sharing a scarf with Yoongi, they couldn’t move away very far. After the third dog Hoseok also just had to accept that the knees of Yoongi’s and Jimin’s pants would just have grass stains that he’d have to deal with on washday. 

“Daddy?” They’d just circled the small pond in the middle of the park and Jimin had turned his head to call for Hoseok over his shoulder. “D-Daddy?” He started to move the arm connected to Yoongi’s, their hands swinging between them back and forth, higher and higher. 

“Yes, Minnie?” Hoseok picked up the pace, walking up beside Jimin and smiling down at him. “What is it, baby?”

Jimin motioned with the hand that wasn’t holding Yoongi’s, prompting his daddy to lean closer. Yoongi was distracted by a flock of geese skimming the surface of the water; the squawking loud and a good cover for a sudden secret conversation. Voice dropping to a whisper, gloved hand coming up to cup his mouth, Jimin said, “I think I like Yoonie, daddy.”

“Oh, really?” Hoseok grinned, voice matching the blushing boy. 

“Y-Yeah… When I grow up I w-wanna be Yoonie’s b-boyfriend.” His eyes shot over to the little beside him, visibly relaxing when he saw Yoongi fishing through his pocket for some crumbs to feed the birds.

Chuckling softly, Hoseok responded, “But aren’t you already Yoonie’s boyfriend, Minnie?”

“No!” he exclaimed, startling Yoongi who stopped walking and whipped his head to the other two. Panicking, Jimin just waved him of and tried to give a reassuring smile. It must have worked because Yoongi shrugged and continued walking and gapping at nature. When Big the musician hardly got to appreciate anything other than maybe a new stain on the four walls of his studio so Little Yoongi was more than thrilled to go back to looking at actual trees and semi-wildlife.

“No?” 

Jimin shook his head. ”No. L-Like… real boyfriend. I wanna k-k-kiss him.” Jimin stuttered when he was being shy and that, coupled with his voice tapering off on a breath, just made Hoseok giggle.

“Cute,” was all he said and pinched one of the little’s cheeks, deepening the red color of it. 

As they started turning onto the last bend of the park path Yoongi yawned loud and drawn-out. Hoseok resisted the urge to call him cute also. Instead, he asked, “Time for baby’s nappie?”

//

Yoongi always took a nap on his day off. It wasn’t surprising to see him curled up on a beanbag chair or the loveseat after their walk, catching up on some much needed sleep while he was in his headspace and able to relax fully. 

When they entered the house and Hoseok finished taking off their winter gear Yoongi sluggishly went over to his Little Drawer in their playroom and withdrew his naptime attire from the top left of the baby pink and gray furniture. Yoongi took afternoon naps in tiny shorts that allowed his bare legs to fully feel the softness of his fleece ducky blanket and with his sleep-time pacifier perched precariously on the bow of his lip, the hard plastic blue and yellow with a cartoon lamb.

He placed the objects on the changing table in the room and held his arms up. Hoseok came in and started tugging off the little’s clothes, pulling his mini capsule shirt over his head and replacing it with a loose purple t-shirt with a sleeping cow perched on a half-moon on the front and kneeling to tug Yoongi’s heels through the openings of his pants and dressing him in his red and blue sleep shorts. All ready, the sleepy boy popped his pacifier in his mouth and cradled his blanket in his arms before shuffling over to the window seat in the living room to look out the glass until sleep took him. Hoseok brought out his lullaby stuffy and placed it in his lap before placing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek, forehead, and lips. He then dimmed the lights on that side of the room, the melody of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star bringing a smile to Yoongi’s face as his mind drifted on thoughts of his daddy singing him to sleep. 

Jimin, on the other hand, never took naps. 

While Yoongi was preparing for his rest Jimin went to his arts and crafts bin for his coloring book and markers. Hoseok preferred he used crayons because they made less mess but at the moment Jimin felt that the scratch, scratch, scratch of the markers across paper was the right kind of stimulation that he needed to start winding down his day. He opened to a page with a butterfly and used his teeth to uncap a hot pink marker. 

After sitting with Yoongi for a bit to make sure the little was comfortable and well on his way to a deep sleep, Hoseok rolled his sleeves up and got ready to cook dinner. Jimin waved at him, marker top still clenched between his teeth, as the caretaker passed by on his way to the kitchen. Hoseok blew his rising-artist-of-a-little a kiss before turning the corner into the hall. 

Jimin blushed, remembering what he’d said earlier about kissing Yoonie, but, in actuality, he didn’t mind kissing his daddy more in a boyfriend-y way either. He couldn’t get those kinds of big boy words out until he was Big again; it was hard enough confessing about Yoongi. He rubbed a hand over his burning cheek, managing to get pink marker all over the bridge of his nose in the process. 

Switching from pink to a vibrant green Jimin continued to color. The scratching blended into the background.

He colored for what felt like hours—at least long enough for Yoongi’s lullaby doll to turn itself off and for two of the butterfly wings to be filled in completely with an assortment of colors—and dinner still wasn’t ready. Jimin was becoming hungry, and bored. He tried rolling a marker over the wooden surface of the table to hear the noise it made but it just wasn’t as satisfying (and entertaining) as he’d like; he’d even chewed it some more before spiting it out. Balancing a marker on his pursed top lip he looked over towards Yoongi’s slumped body and whined in the back of his throat, long nails tapping against the marker box. The elder didn’t move. Jimin, too, slumped over in his seat at the table, but in minute frustration instead of relaxation. He wished he could nap as well but he was always so full of energy and curiosity while in his headspace he had difficulties laying down for a catnap. He tried whining once more but this time louder. There was still no response other than the shifting of the blanket. “Yoonie…” he moaned, a frown marring his features.

His gaze drifted across the room, over the couches and under the coffee table. He didn’t see his favorite stuffed peach anywhere or even his next favorite ball of yarn; he just wanted something to play with, someone to fill the silence before it turned into that annoying buzzing in his brain. With a disheartened sigh he threw the yellow marker in his hand across the room, getting no gratification from the sound of it popping off the wall and over somewhere behind the television. With Yoongi down for the count and no toys in sight he tried his next source of amusement.

“Daddy!” he cried. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” Jimin was yelling so loud it would have woken up even Yoongi if the other hadn’t spent three all nighters at work in a row. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

In the kitchen Hoseok jumped a little at the sound of his name, jostling the measuring spoon in his hand and spilling flour all over the counter. “Yes, baby?” he called back in confusion, turning down the volume on his iPod speaker sitting on the windowsill.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

“Yes, Minnie, Minnie, my cinnamonie?”

The little just kept repeating his name over and over. He didn’t sound in pain or scared but he was not really giving a reason as to why he wanted Hoseok’s attention either. 

Hoseok knew that Little Jimin needed constant companionship. It was one of the reasons Yoongi first slipped into little space himself. The two of them made the conscious decision to be Little together because Yoongi wanted Jimin to always have someone, to never be alone. “I know Yoonie’s asleep but daddy’s busy, sweetheart. Can’t it wait until I’m done cooking something delicious to fill your wittle tummy? I promise daddy will be right there to play with you, darling.” Hoseok swept the spilled flour into the sink with his hand, measuring again the amount he needed and slowly whisking it into the gravy he was making. 

Yoongi loved Jimin a lot, he really did—enough to be Little for the youngest and even more so to always be there for Jimin when he needed someone who understood his Little tendencies most—and he also trusted Hoseok to handle the adult tasks like cooking and cleaning while his two boyfriends were in little space. This trust, additionally, overflowed to Hoseok handling Jimin when Yoongi needed some down time to rest.

"No!” Jimin’s voice took on an undertone of slight panic. “Minnie needs Daddy, now!” Hoseok could hear the sound of Jimin kicking his feet against the hardwood floor and something softer, maybe the couch frame or a pillow. He stirred the pot faster, willing the gravy to just hurry up and thicken already. Then he heard the sound of multiple things hitting the living room walls, probably whatever Jimin had been working on before he decided he was too bored with it. The longer Hoseok didn’t stop what he was doing to go entertain the little’s tantrum the more Jimin wailed. “Daddy! Daddy! Now! Now! Daddy, nooow!” Hoseok’s eye twitched. He stirred in more flour, accidentally pouring in too much way too fast in his hurry, the concoction turning into a chunky goop right before his eyes. He stared at it in horror.

See, Yoongi trusted Jimin to be taken care of, either by himself or, more often, by Hoseok. He trusted that Jimin would be happy, content with Hoseok as their daddy, especially when Little Jimin required endless, reliable affection, constant reassurances that he wasn’t alone in trying to find peace from the stress of his daily life—

The sound of a frustrated Hoseok slamming a pot on the stove reverberated through the apartment followed by a scream. “Oh, my gosh, be patient, Jimin! Got damn!”

—Which is why it was no surprise that Yoongi was jarred awake, no matter how deeply asleep he had been, when Jimin cried because Yoongi was just that attuned with his youngest boyfriend and his need for someone. 

The sound of Jimin’s distress snapped an awoken Yoongi out of little space and he glared as Hoseok stormed into the room, hot pot handle still clutched in his oven-mitt hand. Before Hoseok could even get a dozen steps into the room Yoongi had jumped up—blanket and stuffed animal thrown to the floor, pacifier spit out and rolled away somewhere—and grabbed a sobbing Jimin by the sleeve of his shirt, dragging him out of the circle of spilled markers and ripped coloring book pages, past Hoseok, and away to the bedroom at the end of the hall. 

With the bedroom door closed between them and a raging Hoseok, Jimin began really breaking down. “I don’t want daddy to be my daddy anymore!” Jimin’s eyes were squeezed tight, tears still somehow escaping and falling from his rapidly puffing eyes. His arms were wrapped around Yoongi’s middle, the little using all his strength to hold on to his boyfriend. “Yoonie, I don’t like Seokkie-daddy no—n-no mo’!” 

“Shh, it’s okay, Minnie. Calm down.” He ran his fingers through Jimin’s toffee hair; upsetting the curls that Hoseok had spent hours putting in earlier that day.

  “I w-want you to be my daddy!” Jimin continued hysterically as if he hadn’t even heard Yoongi. 

Yoongi froze. He was pissed, like, really pissed at Hoseok right now for ever yelling at Jimin while he was in his headspace (and even more for coming at him with a hot pot, intentionally or not, like, what the fuck) but even he wouldn’t go so far as to say Hoseok couldn’t be Jimin’s caregiver anymore. He was even less likely to suggest he, Min Yoongi, a fellow Little, should be Jimin’s new daddy. He sucked in a sharp breath. “You don’t mean that, sweetie.”

“Yes, I do! I don’t want him to be my—my daddy! He’s not my daddy no more! No, no no!”

Just as Jimin declared this Hoseok, on the other side of the door, was feeling downright terrible. He stood with both hands on the wood of the door, pot returned to the kitchen where it should’ve never left, and regret burning through his veins and sitting heavy in his bones. He’d come running to apologize as soon as he realized just what he’d done. There was no excuse for the way he reacted, no matter how bratty Jimin was acting. He was little, and sensitive, and Hoseok, as his caregiver, had gone too far. Now, even Yoongi was mad at him, the elder’s glare holding more malice than Jimin could verbally express on his own. Hoseok knew he didn’t deserve Jimin’s forgiveness but… hearing him say that Hoseok couldn’t be his daddy anymore hurt, even if it was a more than suitable punishment for his behavior.

Dropping to his knees—feeling as if his gut continued down through the floor without him—Hoseok bit his lip to keep in his despair and forced himself to listen through the splintering sounds of his world crumbling down.

“Jimin, Jiminnie, Minnie, really, I can’t be your daddy.”

“Why… not?” Jimin’s sniffling had caused his voice to become nasally and small hiccups started to pop up as he struggled with talking through his brisk breaths. 

“Because,” Yoongi ran a hand through his own hair before replacing it back in the little’s. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this. “Hoseok does so much good for you, baby.” 

“No, nuh uh!” The younger swiftly shook his head back and forth in denial. “Seokie mean.” It proved just how adamant Jimin was that he dropped all honorifics and titles for his boyfriend. 

“Shh, yes, I know he’s mean,” he took a meaningful pause, “right now, but what about all the other times?” Jimin refused to respond, pressing his face deep into the crook of Yoongi’s neck; it seemed like he didn’t like where this conversation was going. Yoongi looked up to the ceiling and wracked his brain. “Like, when he decorated the playroom for us? Or knit us that scarf with love in every stitch? Weren’t those such nice things that he did for us littles?”

Jimin whimpered, fingers tightening in the fabric of Yoongi’s shirt till the cotton creaked. 

“C’mon, I know you can think of a ton of things our daddy does that I can’t do. What about when he braids your hair when you’re sad ‘cause you like the feeling? I don’t know how to braid, sweetie. And how about tickle fights? Hoseok-ah loves seeing if he can out-tickle you. I’m not very ticklish at all so it’s an unfair advantage for me to play with you.” Yoongi started to rock softly side to side, murmuring his list into the crown of Jimin’s fluffy hair, nails scratching soothingly along his scalp.

“There’s also how, when your being especially little, he’ll run to the store and buy you new toys that are more age appropriate for how your feeling.” He chuckled. “I’m too selfish to share toys, baby, let alone drop everything to go to five different stores in search of a Fisher-Price crunchy fabric book for you to chew on.” He kissed his head to show that it wasn’t because he loved him any less. “Also, Hoseok-ah keeps all your pretty drawings in a binder that he brings with him when Namjoonie and Seokjin-hyung invite us to dinner. He just gushes about our wittle artist to all his daddy friends. I’m pretty sure if you drew a straight line he’d fork over a million won just for you to sign it and hang it in his office.”

As the list went on Jimin alternated between rubbing his face against- and nipping at Yoongi’s shoulder and picking at the elastic waistband of the elder’s sleep shorts, gently releasing it to snap back against Yoongi’s flesh but Yoongi didn’t mind; if Jimin wanted to use him to stim—to calm down—he’d suffer any discomfort, always. 

“When little Minnie is sleepy Hoseok makes him chocolate milk before bed and we all know how sucky I am at doing that. I always mix up the milk-to-powder ratio and you never fail to let me know it tastes like crap ‘cause you’ll spit it out all over the bed sheets. It’s why I’m not allowed to feed you, remember?” Yoongi stopped rocking, voice growing more wistful, getting Jimin’s attention. “But I think the most special thing our daddy does for us is always coming down to our level. He’ll play in my band and sing to us and teach us so much about being a kid and we’re supposed to be the littles. It’s amazing, really, how he even helps you come up with routines to your favorite Disney Junior channel songs, finding a way to incorporate your Big love of dance with your little headspace. It— Its really something how he makes us being little normal.” 

Yoongi took a deep breath to steady his voice before it could waver any more. “Seriously, Jimin. You may not want Hoseok as your daddy and I’m not saying his past actions should be used as an excuse for his current ones, but thinking I’m better at being your daddy isn’t a bright idea and has literally no evidence to show that it is. After one hour with me as a daddy you’ll definitely realize that, kiddo.”

A shuddering gasp blew across his neck and Yoongi swore he felt an almost imperceptible nod but he couldn’t be too sure. At least Jimin wasn’t crying any longer. 

“Also, Minnie, what…” Yoongi had his own fears connected to being Jimin’s only source of support. His immediate rejection of being Jimin’s caregiver only dealt with Hoseok’s superior experience only somewhat. “What if I… slipped into little space while taking care of you?” When Big, Yoongi could at least try to stumble his way through giving Jimin all the assistance and maintenance he needed but when he was Little? The little in Yoongi stirred, scared at how that would end for the both of them. 

That got a response out of Jimin. The little finally let go of Yoongi enough to pull his face back a few inches so that he could look into Yoongi’s vulnerable eyes. Just as he opened his mouth to speak there was the sound of a door creaking. 

Whipping both their heads around they spotted Hoseok, his face peering inside the bedroom through the crack in the door he’d made. His lips were swollen and abused, his nails digging into the skin of his palms as his chest heaved. The door opened up a smidgen more as Hoseok tentatively and silently asked for permission to enter the room. 

The first things Jimin noticed were his wet cheeks. The man on the floor was sniffling, pot long gone missing, apron too. Instead of a possible weapon, he gripped one of Jimin’s cat plushies to his chest as a shield. He looked nothing like the man who’d run out the kitchen after Jimin not even twenty minutes ago. Most notably, the look in Hoseok’s eye was different. They were red-rimmed, slightly downturned at the corners, and filled with so much self-loathing it stung to look at them. 

Jimin’s heart squeezed. He’d made his daddy cry. 

There was something like regret niggling at the lining of his stomach. 

“I’m sorry, Minnie,” Hoseok started from his place in the doorway when neither Yoongi nor Jimin indicated that he was welcome farther into the room. He sat on his heels, body too tense to even sit comfortably with both eyes trained on him. “Its just— Sometimes I feel stress, too.”

Jimin wasn’t expecting to hear that. It made sense, maybe, that daddies could get overworked at some point but his Little mind was having a hard time wrapping around the idea. His daddy was supposed to be levelheaded and caring and loving and patient with his little. What did a Big thing like stress have to do with Hoseok hating Little Minnie?

Yoongi snapped Jimin out of his befuddled musings. “Yeah,” Yoongi whispered, “that’s why we slip into little space. Being Big all the time, all day, every day, can drive you up the wall if you’re not careful.” 

Oh, Jimin thought, eyes widening a fraction, I see. Although Jimin was sure he wasn’t meant to hear that he was proud of his ears for catching it. He pursed his lips as Hoseok continued. 

“Can’t daddy have a bad day, too, sometimes? Does having a bad day once in a while make me a bad daddy, Minnie?” His voice was rising in pitch but the volume stayed low. It was a weird contrast that hurt Jimin’s ears a little. “If you really want I’ll—I’ll stop caring for you, let you find someone who’s better at this—at being a Daddy, a good caregiver—“ his eyes flicked over towards a stoic Yoongi before landing back on Jimin, “who doesn’t have issues that make him forget to be nice to his babies. I even cussed at you, Minnie, cussed! How—” His statement cut off on a sob but Hoseok didn’t dare move to even wipe the tears as they slowly welled in his eyes.

Yoongi had told Jimin that Hoseok was actually a pretty good daddy; Hoseok was saying that he wasn’t. Both Hoseok and Jimin thought Yoongi should be Minnie’s caregiver but Yoongi refused. Jimin was previously under the assumption daddies were always at ease, calm, and relaxed but now he realized that being a daddy meant being Big and he knew well just how much anxiety came with being Big. 

Conflicted, Jimin looked at Yoongi, whining for help. He was met with an expression that said, This is on you. You have to decide on your own. 

“Minnie—“ Jimin’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He didn’t know what to do and his daddy—ex-daddy?—was waiting. Knowing he’d made his daddy cry and actually seeing him cry were two completely different things. Jimin closed his eyes to the pain thudding in his heart at the sight, his head beginning to buzz distractingly. He wanted to run away, to get out of that room, to drink his warmed milk, to find his paci, to hide under his blankey and chew on some pencils and rip up some paper and roll out some play-doh and slap handfuls of pink foam between his fingers and knock two blocks together and—he needed to think. 

Facts. 

Hoseok was stressed. His daddy was having a bad day. Jimin had been acting up because he, too, wasn’t satisfied, purposefully annoying his daddy. Jimin went into little space when he couldn’t handle being Big. His daddy… what? Jimin didn’t know what his daddy did as an outlet for his stress. It would be hypocritical of Jimin to shun someone for caving under pressure when he did it all the time; any chance he could get, to be honest. Jimin hid behind his headspace; a part of him, even Little, couldn’t deny that when the temptation struck he would dive right in, even for small things like avoiding chores and just as an easier way to fall asleep at night. And Hoseok… his daddy, the man who giggled when he realized Jimin had slipped into his headspace, welcomed the little into his arms even if he were busy with work or school, was grateful for the opportunity and constantly thanked Jimin when the little relied on him to care for him. Hoseok actually thanked Jimin for letting Hoseok be his daddy. 

Hoseok didn’t have a headspace to escape to when life got too hard, when taking care of two grown men who trusted him to forever be a parent figure first and their boyfriend second became a secret burden. 

Who was Jimin to judge when he himself struggled with expressing and containing his negative emotions. Yeah, Hoseok had lost it and yelled but… Having a bad day, it’s not that big a deal, right? As long as he wasn’t hurting anyone, that is… 

Gulping, he screamed, “No, daddy!”

Hoseok jumped in his seat, a yelp bursting from his lips. “No?” 

“No, he can’t be your daddy?” Yoongi asked, just as disheartened and shocked as Hoseok.

“No, daddy can’t leave Minnie!” clarified Jimin, eyes popping open and glaring. “Daddy mean, why would daddy ever leave Minnie! No, No!” It was a replay of earlier all over again, the feeling of déjà vu not evading Yoongi. This time there was the opposite effect. “I don’t want Yoonie to be my daddy, I want daddy to be Minnie’s daddy.” 

Jimin ran from Yoongi’s side and down to the floor, crashing into the barely-ready arms of Hoseok who wasn’t ready for a crying Jimin. Hoseok had expected more yelling (especially from Yoongi), even being downright ignored. He didn’t know how the mood changed so out of the blue. 

He scooped the crying boy into his arms and sat him on his lap, handing him the stuffed cat that he’d almost forgotten. “Shh, Minnie, its okay, but… what?” He glanced up as Yoongi joined them on the floor, pushing the door fully open to accommodate all of them. 

Yoongi’s hands went back to Jimin’s hair, twirling a lock around his knuckles. “Did you make your decision?”

Nodding, Jimin unlatched an arm from around Hoseok’s neck and threw it around Yoongi’s instead, pulling him into a tight hug. “Minnie sorry. Da-Daddy sorry. Yoonie sorry!” Yoongi almost rebutted this, not sorry at all for his anger, but Jimin cut him off. “I wish daddy was a wittle, too! Daddy needs love a-and c-c-care, too.” He was starting to hiccup again and Hoseok was nearing tears yet again and Yoongi’s shirt was growing wet but he couldn’t help the tiny smile brushing his lips. At the sight of their crying Yoongi began rubbing a thumb over Hoseok’s knuckles and used his other hand to play with one of Jimin’s silver studs. He watched on, silently sending them strength to work this out. 

“I never want daddy to have a bad day never, ever again. Daddy scary when he stwessed! Minnie gonna make sure he’s always a good boy and daddy can’t be mad at him, right?”

“Of course, Minnie, Minnie, my cinnamonie.” The daddy kissed Jimin on the apple of his cheek, his own tears running together with the little’s. “But it’s not all your fault. Daddy promises to work on ways to relieve his stress so he can have the bestest playtime with his baby. He’ll try to be more understanding, too, okay?” he kissed the other cheek, smiling when Jimin’s long eyelashes poked him. “But, Minnie, daddy wants you to know just how proud of you he is.”

Jimin sat back some, confused. “Daddy pr— pa-pwoud of Minnie?” 

“Yup,” he rubbed a hand down the younger’s back, “for many reasons. Like, not letting daddy be mean to you, for starters. I try to stand up for my babies as often as I can but it makes me proud to know that you can stand up for yourself, too, and not let anyone mistreat you, even me.” Jimin blushed, hiding his face in Yoongi’s neck. “Also, most importantly, I’m proud of my cinnamonie for being understanding and forgiving. It takes a huge heart and great kindness to do what you did, baby. Thank you.” Even though he couldn’t see Jimin’s face he could still picture the shy smile he got whenever anyone praised him—in particular, one of his boyfriends.

“And you, Yoonie—“

“I’m not little, Seok-ah.”

“You, Yoonie,” Hoseok pressed on, ignoring his glowering boyfriend. “I’m proud of you.”

“For not kicking your ass right on the spot? ‘Cause it can still be arranged.”

Sniffing and giving a watery smile, he responded, “I believe you, and I am happy you decided not to but that’s not why I’m proud.” He wrapped an arm around Yoongi’s neck right along with Jimin’s, nearly choking the eldest. “I’m proud of how you handled the situation. You got Big immediately when Jimin needed you and calmed him down and talked it out with him. You— I wasn’t lying when I said there are people out there better suited for being a daddy than I.” 

Yoongi’s eyes fell to his lap, picking at the hem of his sleep shorts. “Yeah… if you say so.”

That was good enough for Hoseok for now. He knew Yoongi had doubts of his ability to care for Jimin and that’s why he’d rather Hoseok be tasked with it but today was not the day to convince Yoongi just how wrong and misplaced his misgivings were. 

“I do say so, Yoonie, and I’m still proud.” He smacked his lips against Yoongi’s cheek. “So proud.” Another kiss. “My baby is such a wittle fighter, standing up for his boyfriend!” More kisses, this time to Yoongi’s forehead and between his brows. “My baby, so brave, so cute, standing up for Minnie. Wow, its so cute seeing you mad, Yoonie. You’re like an angry chicken; my chickpea, my chicken noodle boodle, my chicken potpie. Yum! I could just eat you up.” 

It was like a switch flipped in Yoongi’s head. His eyes grew rounder, lips less tense and more pouty and droopy; his whole body relaxed as the little in him took over.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, my sweet dumpling?”

“Daddy!”

Jimin giggled, shifting so his legs were draped over both his boyfriends, arms still holding them close. He looked at Yoongi before breaking into a blinding smile, eyes scrunching closed, tears giving way to mirth. “Yoonie is back!”

“Minnie!” Yoongi surged forward, kissing Jimin on the mouth. Jimin squeaked before whipping his head over to Hoseok for his reaction.

Hoseok smirked. “You guys kissed like big boys do. I guess Yoonie is your boyfriend now, huh, Minnie?”

Jimin’s whole face turned pink and the flush ran down his neck. “Yoonie m-my boyfriend?” 

“I love you, Minnie,” Yoongi answered, clasping Jimin’s face between his palms before kissing him full on the lips again, this time longer. Jimin chuckled and wiggled in their laps, overwhelmed with happiness.

“Daddy! Kiss me! I wanna kiss daddy like the big kids do! Kiss Yoonie! We gotta all be boyfriends now.”

Hoseok didn’t point out that he’d kissed Jimin and Yoongi on the lips plenty of times while they were Little, and the even bigger fact that they’d all been dating for years now. If Jimin wanted to become “official” he’d gladly ask the two of them to be his over and over again. 

He kissed Jimin’s puckered, waiting lips then took a hand to turn Yoongi’s mouth towards him, the blonde trying to act coy but the look in his eyes saying otherwise. They tasted like candies and cookies and everything else sweet about having two babies to call his. “I love you, Yoonie. I love you, Minnie. Daddy loves his babies soooo much.” He emphasized this by squeezing them between his arms and shaking them from side to side. The giggles and shrieks in the air warmed his heart. 

He let go momentarily to stand before reaching down to pull them up with him. Jimin jumped up into his arms, repositioning himself to his place on Hoseok’s right hip, Yoongi following soon and sitting snugly against Hoseok’s left side. “Come, daddy can’t spend a second longer away from his boys. How about we skip the whole cooking step all together and order a pizza?”

They started up a chorus of “pizza, pizza!” before Jimin stopped and asked, “Can Minnie get M&Ms on his pizza, daddy?”

Hoseok started down the hall, trying to recall where’d he’d left his phone and if it were possible to have one of the littles dial the number for him seeing as his arms were full. “M&Ms?”

“I want pineapple!” added Yoongi.

“And strawberries!”

“C-Can Yoonie have buh-breadsticks, daddy? With cheese?”

“Cheese! Cheese! And brownies on the whole pizza!” Jimin went back to his toppings list, almost toppling them all over when he decided to throw his arms out in wide circles. 

“Yoonie wants ice cream, daddy! Strawberry ice cream to match Minnie’s strawberry pizza!”

“Yum!”

Laughing so hard he felt his stomach would cramp soon Hoseok shook his head. This pizza sounded pretty disgusting and he’d most likely have to order a personal pizza for himself at this point (and also stop at the store for ice cream) but he didn’t mind. If his littles wanted it, he would find a way to get it.

“Daddy spoils you guys way too much.” 

That stopped the rambunctious movements on his hips that would surely strain them for dance practice tomorrow. The two grew quiet before Hoseok felt his heart drop. He froze in his tracks.

Jimin pat the top of his head and said, “It’s okay, daddy. You spoil us but from now on we’re gonna spoil you too.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi added, “Yoonie and Minnie gonna spoil daddy with so much love daddy’ll never hate us again.”

“The first order of busy-ness is feeding daddy pizza! So his tummy will be filled with babies’ love! He’ll be our giant capsule, like our shirts.”

“Then Yoonie is gonna brush daddy’s hair till it sparkles like he does for Yoonie.” 

“Hey, Minnie wanted to brush daddy’s hair! No fair!” He folded his arms and Hoseok started walking again, dread disappearing. I was gently reminded that littles never stayed upset for long. “I call dibs on kissing daddy to sleep, then.”

“No fair! No fair! I wanted to kiss daddy and Minnie goodnight!”

“Aw, Yoonie wanna kiss Minnie again, huh?” A greasy look overtook Jimin’s face and it was such a weird mix with his cute little features that it almost floored Hoseok. He could feel sweat beading on his neck. Wh-Where was his phone?

As the mild bickering continued over which one of- and how the littles would keep Hoseok from “having a bad Big daddy day,” and their agreement that daddy couldn’t cook them gravy for a whole month because of it, Hoseok stewed in relief. He couldn’t describe the feeling of Jimin choosing him to be his caregiver the first time, and then Yoongi a few months later, and this time was a very similar level of emotional. He felt the stitches in his heart mending together with each step he took with his boyfriends trying to out prove their love for him.

  Little did they know, Hoseok would be the one showing the littles the most love and attention, from now until they didn’t need a caregiver any longer—

And for decades later, hopefully, as their husband.