#but now there's nothing stopping me so watch out :3c

[townofcadence]

I finished the last art piece last night, and I can write again! I'll be working on drafts and maybe reblogging some new starter memes for anyone new (though the old ones don't expire either if one catches your fancy!) ^^

[sanjisleggy]

the siren and the sun (portgas d. ace x reader) [pt4]

a/n: it be hard to write two characters’ thoughts and feelings concurrently but i tried my best :3c

contents: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, both reader and Ace are big insecure

wc. 2.1k

wanna be on my taglist?

part 3 || part 5

i. 

tears streamed down your face uncontrollably as you watched your parents haul the last of their supplies onto their small pirate ship. as the remaining few wooden crates and barrels on land dwindled, you found yourself reaching out your arms every time they walked by in order to pick up more supplies, only to brush past you again on the way to their ship.

when your mother stepped off the ship for the final time to pick up the last crate, you grabbed onto her coat and begged, “please, take me with you, mama!” your words were barely coherent from all the choking and sobbing but it was obvious to anyone watching what you were trying to say.

she crouched in front of you and patted your head, the warmth of her hand soothing your aching heart ever so slightly. you instinctively reached out your arms to wrap around her neck, the same way you always did whenever she was about to carry you home. instead of picking you up, though, your mother pried your hands away.

“you’re a good girl, aren’t you, (Y/N)?” she cooed gently, a stark contrast to how firmly she gripped your two wrists in order to keep them a distance from her body.

you nodded, fresh hot tears still pouring down your cheeks.

“well, good girls aren’t selfish.” your mother smiled though it didn’t reach her eyes. “don’t you want mama and papa to be happy? hmm?”

you nodded again. you did want them to be happy but why couldn’t they be happy with you? you opened your mouth to ask but something deep in your heart stopped the words from coming out.

“good girl,” she said as she patted your head one last time. “mama and papa will be so happy once we’re out on the sea as long as you keep being good. if you’re really good, we might even come back to take you with us.”

“promise?” you whispered, holding out your pinky finger. your mother smiled and hooked it with her own.

“promise.”

for weeks you stayed right where they left you on the docks, your eyes glued to where the sky met the sea–the exact spot their ship disappeared from view.

ii.

Ace begs you to talk to him as he relentlessly trails behind you, leaving the bar and all thoughts of it behind him. his heart ramming against his ribcage as his thoughts on why you’re suddenly so cold run wild.

“say something, (Y/N)!” his voice cracks ever so slightly. “i just don’t understand–” he tries once more to grab ahold of your arm but you shrug him away the moment you feel his fingertips brush against your skin. “did i do something wrong? did i say something?”

the more he asks, the more you refuse to turn around to look at him. your heart aches from how distraught he sounds and the hurt does nothing but make fresh, hot tears well up in your eyes. you don’t understand why he’s so determined to follow you all this way and yet you can’t bring yourself to ask him why.

arriving at your private cabin aboard the Moby Dick, you try your best to enter whilst keeping Ace outside but he’s faster and stronger and manages to squeeze his way in. he shuts your door behind him and leans against it with his arms crossed. 

“are you gonna keep me prisoner, or?” you ask, trying your best to sound as unbothered as possible in hopes that you can conceal the tears on your face. alas, the cloudless night sky allows for the moon to cast its light through your window, illuminating your room enough for both of you to see each other clearly. 

Ace stands there silently with his big wet brown eyes staring straight into yours. what’s normally a sight you welcome with open arms is now your greatest source of misery as it dawns on you that he probably will just keep staring at you until you give in.

for a few minutes, your room is completely silent except for the occasional splashing of waves. looking at him, you think about how the girls at the bar are probably still waiting for him and yet here you are, keeping him away from having fun. he should be celebrating with the others and meeting new people, instead he’s here with you.

how selfish. 

Ace catches the way your shoulders tense up and how your eyebrows furrow even deeper than before. he can tell you’re thinking of something and he can’t help but wonder why you’re keeping it from him. you’ve never kept secrets from each other before, even as kids.

do you hate me? 

he swallows thickly as his own eyes prickle with tears.

did you finally realise i’m just not worth your time? that i’m just the bastard son of the world’s worst criminal with nothing to offer you? it took you long enough, huh?

“did i do something wrong? please, you have to tell me so i know how to fix it,” Ace pleads, against his better judgement. “ i can’t… you can’t hate me, too. please, (Y/N).” the words spill out faster than he can even think to stop them.

never in his life as Ace begged so openly to be loved–and he never thought he’d want to ever do so, either–but he can’t bear the thought of you despising him like the rest of the world does. it might actually kill him. 

“why do you care so much about what i think?” you snap back, tone coming across much harsher than you’d like. “why did you even come after me? you should be back in the bar! don’t you know there are people waiting for you? just go already!” you close the distance between you and him and grab his shoulders in an attempt to pry him away from the door so that he can finally get out and let you sulk alone in peace.

as expected, though, he doesn’t budge.

“do you not… want me anymore?” Ace asks in a voice so small you nearly miss it. the tears that have been holding on so diligently finally break free and streak down his freckled face as his expression contorts into the saddest one you’ve ever seen on his face.

now i’ve made you cry. i’m such a terrible person, aren’t i?

your heart twists painfully in your chest as you choke back your own tears. you so badly want to answer him truthfully, to let him know he’s all you’ve ever wanted but you can’t bring yourself to hold him back. what can you possibly offer that he can’t find from someone else who can offer him even more?

“i…” you have to force the words out, your throat far too constricted from all your crying. “i’ll always want you, Ace,” you finally admit selfishly, unable to stop once you’ve started. “i treasure every moment we spend together.” you give him a wobbly, sad smile. “but i think i’m getting too used to it and i don’t know how i’ll cope when you eventually find someone better.”

Ace stares at you silently as what feels like hours pass by.

it takes a while for the realisation that he hadn’t done anything to drive you away to dawn on him; that you actually want him as much as he wants you. never before has he related so strongly to words said by another and yet here you stand in front of him, having just said exactly how he feels about you. he feels his pounding heart race even faster than before, beating so quickly it almost hurts–except he welcomes it with open arms this time.

unbeknownst to him, you mistake his silence. 

this is it, isn’t it? i’ve said it out loud so you realise it, too, now.

but before you can try to convince him to leave your room again, Ace drops to his knees right in front of you, his eyes staring right into yours the entire time. he reaches out to take your hands in his, cupping your smaller hands in between his warm palms as he brings them to his lips. his hands begin to sweat and shake, and his kiss lingers longer than it should have, but he needs to buy a bit more time to prepare what he so desperately has to say to you.

“i know should’ve asked you this the moment we reunited but i didn’t so i’m asking you now.” Ace takes a deep breath. “marr- date me. i-i mean, be my girlfriend, please? be mine.” he pulls your hands apart to gently bring them to his face so that your palms cup his cheeks. his skin feels extra warm but you can’t tell if it’s from his Devil Fruit or from how hard he’s blushing right now.

the heaviness in your chest disappears in the blink of an eye as you recall a memory from your childhood you thought you’d long forgotten.

“we can date first. then i’ll ask you to marry me. deal?”

“deal… but what if…”

“if?” Ace tilted his head a little.

“what if you find someone else you want to marry?” you played with the hem of your pajamas, making sure not to make eye contact.

“don’t be stupid. i…” Ace coughed, unintentionally bringing your attention back to his face. his cheeks and ears were nearly as red as the shirt he wore. “... i’ll always want you.”

you begin to sob again, even harder this time, and Ace nearly has a conniption until he notices the wide smile spreading across your face. he feels his own lips tug into a grin as he swallows nervously. still cupping his face in between your hands, you run your thumbs across his cheeks, wiping away the dried salty tears from before.

is it really okay for me to be selfish?

you can’t help but wonder for a split second; however, your worries are washed away when you see how lovingly Ace gazes up at you as he remains kneeling on the floor of your room. if you didn’t know any better, you might think he’s looking at the most valuable treasure the sea has to offer.

“okay,” you say with a nod, your smile growing impossibly wider when his eyes practically shine in response, “i’d love to be yours.”

with a swiftness only a man like him can possess, Ace gets off the floor and scoops you into his arms, eliciting a surprised yelp from your lips. you wrap your own arms around his neck instinctively, not wanting to fall–as if he’d ever let that happen–but as soon as you’re lifted off the ground, you find yourself being tossed onto your bed with Ace following shortly after.

you giggle as he crawls over you, trapping your head between his toned forearms as he props himself up by his elbows. the sweet sound stirs something in his poor, overworked heart and it compels him to lean closer. the tip of his nose brushes lightly against yours but Ace doesn’t move any further, waiting for you to close the gap.

rewrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer until your lips slot against his, and a warmth you’ve never felt before blooms from your mouth and spreads throughout your entire body. your first kiss is clumsy and a little bit awkward but he tastes and smells so sweet you never want this moment to end. evidently feeling the same way, Ace licks at your lips greedily, coaxing your mouth open as he deepens the kiss, and moaning softly when your tongue clashes with his. 

more. more. more.

Ace wants everything you’re willing to offer him and in return he will give you all of him and then some. you could ask him for the sun itself and he’ll find a way to give it to you or die trying.

when you eventually part ways for air, he’s quick to make himself comfortable on top of you. his chest rests against yours as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, brushing his bruised lips against the scar on your collarbone. his hands wander the expanse of your arms and torso before making their way under your shirt and staying there; his warm palms resting against your bare skin. in return, you hug him close to you and bury your face in his messy, wavy hair. you smile and press a kiss to the crown of his head when you realise he smells like your shampoo.

no more words are exchanged throughout the night as you lay in peaceful silence entangled with one another. before you know it, you’re lulled to sleep by the sound of Ace’s soft snoring.

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakiss @krooschl @teewon @olliesoxenfree @misstraffy @riftmage27

series taglist: @captainportgasdace @mitskisaveme @graveyardsweethearts @vaniiiavengeance @stuckinmymind22

[nekrosmos]

Tell me your silliest takes on Nikolai and Price? <3 Or any headcanons you have of either of them, really.

Silly NikPrice, I can do :3c

I think Nik is a hugger even in his sleep and sometimes Price wakes up in the middle of the night because he has to piss and can't escape those massive bear arms (and Nik would try to pull him closer even as he's sleeping) and it's a silent battle that ensues, often ending in Price giving up.

When Price is being particularly grumpy or strict for some reason, Gaz likes to act mysterious and say "I know a way to calm him down" to Soap and Ghost. He never lies, however, as all it takes is for him to send a text to Nik, and for Nik to send a picture of himself in various states of undress to Price. The face John makes when he glances at his phone, only for his ears to turn all red as he fumbles an excuse that he has to go check something in his office, is something the 141 never gets tired of.

Most of the time, Nik makes the big gestures. That man is a romantic and now that he finally has John, he's gonna make him feel like he's the most beautiful man in the world. However, sometimes Price surprises him too. The smile on Nikolai's face when John gets him with something he didn't expect is worth everything to John. The love making that follows is out of this world, too.

Nik loooooooves to find ways to sneakily touch Price when he really shouldn't be doing that. Maybe they're sitting around a table negotiating important intel with shady people from Nik's side when Price suddenly feels Nik's boots against his crotch and sees him smirks at him from across the table. Asshole. Or maybe the two are undercover in a van, eying an area at night for someone they need to crab, Price's eyes glued to his binoculars when Nik's hand suddenly sneaks past his belt and boxers and starts teasing him. Even worse, the person they were waiting to retrieve finally shows up and Price has to grab a guy while almost fully hard and unsatisfied. Thanks, Nik.

Sometimes they like to slow dance together. Just the two of them, in Price's house or his quarters, whatever. They put some quiet music and just start doing it naturally. It's gentle, it's quiet, it's just them and they can finally have a moment to breath and enjoy each other's embrace. John never feels more at peace than when in Nik's arms, and Nik is happy to oblige, big hands stroking through Price's hair and staring into his blue eyes. Sometimes one of them ends up saying a very, very bad joke, and they start laughing, almost uncontrollably, more out of exhaustion than anything, and they end up falling on a nearby couch or bed and they laugh and laugh together like nothing else in this world matters but them.

Nik watching Price struggle to order food in Russian while they're in a russian speaking country. He could help him, but it's just so damn adorable to watch him fumble through his words and see John's panicked glance turn back to him when he failed to order coffee for the third time in a row. John's revenge is to speak in slang he damn well knows Nik won't understand for the rest of the day.

Every time John is cold in bed, snuggling close to Nik, it reminds him of that time when they were way, way younger and got sent off somewhere in Eastern Europe in the middle of winter, and the two had to bunker down in a shitty hotel, in a shitty bedroom that (gasp) had only one shitty bed and whose heater was broken. It had been a little bit awkward at the time, and Nik had offered to sleep on the floor, which John had refused, offering it in return, only for Nik to also shut him down. Eventually, the two had climbed into bed, backs turned to one another, until John began to shiver uncontrollably, the thin blanket not helping with the freezing temperatures. Quietly, Nik had turned around and gently wrapped his arms around John. None of them said anything, no words were exchanged, and Price quickly stopped shivering. There were no mention of this happening the day after, or the day after, not until years later when the two began their relationship and Nik admitted it had been extremely difficult to stop himself from kissing the back of Price's neck that night, or let his hands wander. Price admitted the same, and the two had laughed it off. There had been plenty of opportunities to do just that since then.

[tunastime]

whatever number cold reactor is send post (/j /j ummmmmmm how about 99?)

I'M NOT DOING COLD REACTOR GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!! (it was number 3 :3c ) alright, 99! 99...

haha it was totally Lost by Half Alive. Toootally. anyway I started spinning this in my head and I think I have rendog disease or something. I couldn't stop thinking about him. enjoy some treebark rel!! (611 words)

Ren watches the fire flicker but he’s mostly watching it reflect off Martyn’s face. He forgets exactly how long it had been since he’d last seen him—a while. Aside from short periods, fleeting moments, memories. Nothing like this, nothing like the tangible warmth of a person, nothing like the solid form of a desperately loyal man with, very clearly, nothing to lose. He leans back on his hands, pushing his glasses up on top of his head. The half-moons rest at his crown, the small gold chain tickling the fluff of his ears.

He squints at Martyn, who isn’t looking at him.

He looks older—not aged, because it hadn’t been that long since he’d seen the man. Maybe a few years, but it was like time and stress had taken chisels to his features, made them tired and shadowy and strong. He follows the scar down his cheek, the hints of what he could see under the collar of his shirt geometric and pale. It’s still him—Ren knows this, that Martyn hadn’t magically become someone new in the moments they’d been away, that all his careless devotion came spilling out the moment the two of them actually met, but he guarded something in his chest like it would wither away if he didn’t. That’s what Ren felt was so different. Or maybe it wasn’t different at all, and he had just been allowed to see the soft inside of Martyn for a moment longer than others.

He feels a bit like he’s seeing it now, watching the fire in his eyes, and watching Martyn watch the sky.

“Is it working?” Martyn says suddenly. Ren startles, realizing that he’d been chewing on the pad of his thumb. He furrows his eyebrows

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re staring at me like you’re trying to read my mind,” Martyn says, offering somewhat of a lopsided smile as he lowers his eyes to look at Ren directly. Ren feels his shoulders soften and round. “Is it working?”

He snorts.

“Not quite,” he jokes, grinning, mouth full of sharp canines and dog-like teeth. Martyn’s smile widens just a fraction. 

“Well I bet you’re wonderin’ why nobody wants to work with me,” he replies, folding his arms. His voice is still light and playful, edging on indignant laughter. Ren rolls his eyes, mostly out of habit, and waves one hand.

“Not in the slightest,” he teases back. “You’ve clearly got no skill for mind reading, Martyn.”

“Hm,” Martyn hums, shrugging. “Some would say otherwise. What’re you thinkin’ about then?”

Ren waffles for a moment, not audibly, but he shrugs his shoulders and feels some warmth flood to his face. If he were to describe the relationship he and Martyn had with each other, it might be something like binary suns, or vines, or equally orbiting asteroids, a system of mutually assured destruction, but of two things that were unable to shake the other. Even as faded as it was, Ren could see the stripe of the banner at Martyn’s waist. He decides he wants to be truthful, at least right now.

“I was thinking’ about how long it had been since we’d been on the same team,” he says. “I’ve missed it.”

Martyn hums. His gaze goes far away for a moment as he drags his eyes back to the fire.

“Me too,” he says, much more gentle than Ren thinks he intends. Ren smiles despite himself. He can tell something lingers behind Martyn’s eyes, but he wants to let him breathe through it on his own. For now, he settles with having him at arm's length for now. He can have him in his arms later.

(send me a number from 1-100 and I'll try to write a fic!)

[coff-in]

Coff-in please elaborate on your normal younger sister who looks up to Ashley and jealous sulky Andrew thoughts!! Your brain is so big I actually wanna kiss it!!!

-Devious Anon <3

notes from coff-in: eheh :3c it was mostly just a concept (my brain doesn't always create full pictures. like, it was a sketch than i painting, you know?) but expanding upon it would help me practice fleshing out ideas. sometimes i just need to be prompted to talk more. thank you for asking about it though :D i'd be so blessed if you kissed my brain, devious anon <3

[fem] reader-insert, [afab] reader-insert, NSFW, incest

[reader] likes ashley more, ashley is like her mom. it was rocky at first, since leyley saw [reader] as a competitor for andy's attention. however, as they got older leyley realized that [reader] needed her as much as she needed andy. there was never any real reason to worry. [reader] would always need leyley to tell her about girls and their bodies, or to tell her the embarrassing things she couldn't tell andy because he was a boy, or share clothes with her because they're the same size and wear the girl clothes. and [reader] couldn't rely on any other girl to help her because they don't her like leyley does! [reader] and her are practically conjoined at the hip.

andy didn't mind this at first. it was nice watching leyley lead [reader] around-- even though leyley still had to refer to andy about how to do things. he did feel a little jealous that you were so attached to her, but it's fine. he still saw you once you got home, and helped you with your homework, and slept in the same bed as you at night, so it's fine. the sulkiness really started to kick in once they all got to middle/high school.

ashley did her best to keep away any friends [reader] would've had and andrew kept away any people who tried to date [reader]. he would be more... physically protective of [reader] now. a hand grasping hers, or around her shoulders, or on the middle of her back; just to help ward off other and comfort (himself) her. he'd try to get [reader] into some of his favorite subjects or topics just so they could have something to talk to each other about.

he likes it when [reader] seeks him out. it does happen, though she does seek ashley out first. one time [reader] had a nightmare about school and couldn't sleep, so she went to andrew to help her. "you have nightmares sometimes, right? could... could you help me with mine?" of course, he said, and tucked her into his arms in his bed. holding her tightly against him, maybe he'd inhale the smell of her hair. he'd realize that he'd want this more. he wanted her to seek him out, cause he's her big brother too. it's not always about ashley.

freaky thought: he has a dream that he teaches [reader] how to masturbate. he finds her one night after coming home late in their bedroom, grinding on one of his pillows in his bed. she's trying so desperately to get off but she just can't, she doesn't know how. she's so frustrated, tears welling up in her eyes as she clothes clit against his pillow, taking deep greedy inhales of his scent on his sheets. andrew just stands in the doorway for a bit, not knowing what to do... he should tell her to stop. this is gross, it's wrong, it's immoral... but she looks so beautiful like that. desperate, horny-- she needs his help, his guidance.

he'd sneak up from behind her and then place his hand on her back, making her jump. he'd chuckle and lean down to her ear, "what do you think you're doing, hm?" [reader] would be so embarrassed about getting caught, burying her face into his sheets. dressed in an oversized shirt and wearing nothing else but her now drenched panties. "have we not been taking good care of you? or maybe you needed my help specifically?" he'd pull [reader] against his chest and dip a hand down to remove her underwear. he'd brush his fingers against her throbbing clit, teasing it from its hood. "let your big brother show you how to please yourself."

he'd soak up all her moans and mewls as he makes her watch him finger her pussy. he doesn't care about the mess they're making, or about getting caught (by ashley or his mom)-- he just focuses on pleasing his baby sister. kissing her flushed cheek, maybe leaving a love bite on her neck...

once he wakes up, he can't look at [reader] the same.

----

coff-in

[pinkrifle]

hear me out

reader is a girl n she meets princess kenny and she knows it’s just kenny, a guy but she constantly battles her sexuality over it—but eventually giving in and asking princess kenny out on a date, disregarding gender,, :3c this is gnn be a series cuz “ i aint writing allat” and nobody’s gnna read an entire 3 pages worth of this (realistically)

— tags: @trevvylovesspence

— ✦ heart to heart ♡

i stepped up to kingdom Kupa Keep to meet the newfound princess, princess kenny—never expecting her to be so majestic, beautiful, stunning, adorable.. what other words could i possibly use to describe this girl? it only makes sense how she was selected princess. boy do these people have taste,,

i started to play this new game with my class and my best friends, stan, kyle, cartman and kenny. so far i find it nice! i mean it’s kind of a better DND. but not for super-nerds. just regular nerds.

walking up to the *very beautiful* majesty i bow my head down slightly towards her, making sure i never took my eyes off (who would want to anyway :3) “hello, dear princess kenny!!” i greet her, smiling at her—fixing my hair to make sure i don’t look like a bum in-front of this adorable babe. “huhu! hello! i understand you know my name, but yours is?”

“ooh! im [namey name ;3] im sure evryone has told you, but your so elegant!” i remind her, staring into her beautiful deep purple eyes. i notice her brush off her dress, scoff and a tiny blush spread across her hooded face. “wh- well thank you! i actually don’t get that a lot, so i appreciate that :)” she retorts in an even softer tone from her normal confident and wavy voice, cupping her left cheek with her left hand.

“[namey name], why don’t you come over to my palace for some tea, if you wish?” princess kenny proposes a brilliant idea, i assume that’s a regular thing <3 “of course! i would be more than happy to spend an afternoon with Kupa Keep’s princess. :3” i silently-shriek out loud, watching all the people of the fellow kingdom stare at me in envy. “well for now, why don’t we take a walk?”

her big eyes bat her eyelashes and before i can answer wit an exaggerated yes she carefully gets up off of her throne, taking my hand in her soft, gloved, hand. i stare at her in awe and start gliding my feet along with hers across the ol backyard we stood in, i feel amazing with princess kenny with me.

it’s something i havent felt before, is it a lovely envy? is it admiration? it can’t be love, no way,, i just met this girl! i remind myself. the word girl stains my mind… girl girl girl girl. why am i feeling like this if we’re both girls? you know what.. that’s the least of my concerns, as far as i know it’s just kenny, not a real girl.

but why am i upset that he isn’t a “real girl”? i thought that if i let myself realize princess kenny was really a boy, my worries would set aside, but i only got more and more upset, confused :( i stare at the ground as i feel my body tug—“[namey name] is everything alright? what was with that sudden stop is the weather too cold?” she questions me, cara mia! how i love hearing her say my name. it’s like angels have come down from heaven and had graced me with their voice.

“oh, yeah i’m alright!i just had to think about a little something for a sec, we can continue now &lt;3” i reassure her, telling her she had nothing to worry about and i was fine with walking with her, hell i knew so well i was more than fine walking with her. “well i hope that something wasn’t making you upset! we can always do something else if you wish, you are the guest after all :)” she stops me in the middle of the sidewalk, taking my forearms into her hands—staring at me with innocent eyes. “wha?! of course not! but i would be open to do anything you want to!” i bluff. it was practically love at first sight with this girl! i couldn’t tell her how i feel right now..

as we keep walking we chat up a storm, playfully grabbing each others hands, giggling, blushing, looking away.. <;3 “huhu— [namey name]! such a flirt! who would have known a lady like you could be so charming!” she’d compliment me from time to time, making my cheeks heat up. “well look at you! who wouldn’t wanna charm such an eye candy of a prin,,,,” i’d wanna retort, but get cut off by elves swarming infront of us. “GET THE PRINCESS FIRST” i hear one of them yell, without a thought in mind i swoop princess kenny off her feet, bridal style and begin darting down the way we came.

picking up the pace i take my wand out of a pocket in my cloak and cast some spell at the top of my head, it knocks the elves back and i keep running with the maiden. huffing and almost out of breath i get back to Kupa Keep and alert the people that elves were coming to wreak havoc. setting the princess down behind a rather large tree as i hide with her i assume someone’s keeping watch of the stick. i yell to everyone that sit infront of us, rather far away from our hiding spot that the elves are coming.

“oh thank you, thank you [namey name]! for i could have gotten much more than hurt back there,,” she clamors, very faintly shaking with some sort of fear. “we’re gonna be alright princess, i promise you. these slimy elves can do nothing to your glowing kingdom.” i hesitate to say your, as i want to say our. but how could i be thinking of love in a striking time like this? who wouldn’t wanna think of loving a beautiful princess in a striking time like this.

as i hear one final shriek before the backyard goes silent, i look at princess kenny as she looks back at me. i nod and smile as i hold her even tighter, emerging from the tree. watching as a final elf gets dragged out, i set princess kenny down and we cheer in unison as everyone else in the kingdom follows along. princess kenny settles everyone down as she takes a hand and places it in my direction.

“everyone, i don’t think we would have gotten this done as fast as we did without the help of my lovely mage, [namey name].” she announces, and everyone looks at me as i have a short smile on my face, waving out to the kingdom.

UHHH THSI IS PART 1 MUEHEHE… I HOPE UUY GUYS ENJOYED!! i am so excited i finally got yhis out YIPEEEE

update log (u can ignore idk)

pdate one [writing]: 11:38 pm 6/4/23

upd8 two [finishing, publishing] 1:47 pm 7/4/23

[divinesayer]

i need to clear my head - Divine/Jack Atlas - Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's summary: Maybe Jack had just decided to leave him. Could he really blame him? Who in their right mind would love someone like Divine anyway? notes: loooooooooooool i have divine a panic attack because it's funny :3c

This was fucking ridiculous. Divine paced the room back and forth, pausing every few minutes to check his phone to see… well, nothing. He had tried calling Jack a few times over the past few hours and got no response (which initially seemed reasonable, but now he was far less convinced).

It was stupid, and he knew it was stupid, but that didn’t stop him from checking traffic reports of the highways. It didn’t stop him from feeling his heart drop into his stomach upon reading a horrific headline – there was a moment of reprieve when the date was a few weeks prior, at least.

Okay, so he was safe, probably. That was something.

The night grew late, and dark, and the occasional attempts at calls were growing more and more frantic, until the number was unavailable, going straight to Jack’s obnoxious voicemail. For a second, the sound of his voice was soothing, until it wasn’t.

Divine didn’t bother leaving a voicemail, throwing his phone at the couch. It was better if it was as far away from him as possible. The constant scrolling was only making his head hurt. Maybe he needed a drink, or to go to bed, or to care less than he did.

The sound of his phone ringing brought him out of it, rushing over to pick it up to see… not Jack. He didn’t bother answering, slumping down to the floor in front of the couch, with his head in his hands.

His heart was racing impossibly fast, and the world around him spun as though he was drunk.

Maybe Jack had just decided to leave him. Could he really blame him? Who in their right mind would love someone like Divine anyway?

Bile sat uncomfortably at the bottom of his throat, threatening to fill it and cut off his oxygen supply. He had always told Aki to breathe slow and deeply in times of panic, but he could not bring himself to follow his own advice, panting hard for any semblance of air.

His fingertips dug into his scalp, the stinging an anchor to the real world. His eyes squeezed shut and he gritted his teeth, chest rising and falling heavily.

He must have found someone else – Jack fucking Atlas was never going to settle for someone like this.

The front door opened, but he didn’t seem to hear it; he had covered his ears with his palms as not to hear that stupid fucking phone ringing.

“That damn idiot beat me – again!” Jack’s voice was loud over everything else, and Divine thought he was hearing things. One hazel eye opened, watching a familiar white boot step closer and closer, until they were right in front of him.

Yep, definitely lost it. A hand outstretched, forcing the grip on his hair to loosen, as he slowly lifted his head.

There he was, squatting right in front of him, staring down at Divine like he had lost his mind, eyes narrowed and head tilted the tiniest amount.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came up, just more laboured breaths and a look of absolute panic – Jack raised a brow in response to this.

“…What?” His hand remained on his jaw, rubbing small circles into it as though to coax the words out.

The words tasted like acid, burning at his throat and tongue. But, he forced it out all the same. Anything to stop those beautiful purple eyes turn from frustration to actual concern. “…You were gone. I thought you…”  

There was a moment of silence, and then a familiar loud laugh erupted from Jack’s lips. His perfect balance failed him, and he fell backwards. “What – leave you?” He managed between wheezes. “Don’t be stupid, Div.”

Divine’s eyes were wide, watching his reaction. Was it… that funny? Arms wrapped around him, pulling him close into the familiar warmth. A head on Jack’s chest, which still shook a little from laughter.

He sat silent, eyes closed, focusing on the hard thud of Jack’s heart, stable and rhythmic compared to the rapid flutter in his own ribcage. It seemed to work, at least, as eventually, his breathing slowed, though the world continued to feel fuzzy for a good while after.

Maybe Jack was right. Maybe he was just being stupid.

[threadsun]

Well, let’s expand on our favorite puppy, shall we? And I do mean puppy, see Bo wasn’t born in the town, he literally came from the woods when he was in his late teens. He didn’t speak english back then so the founder basically said “Well, if you don’t want me to keep you, speak up” so he kept him. Bo was feisty when he was first brought “home” he had a muzzle for the longest time, but being so scary helped him do his job, protecting the founder

He probably would have stayed like that if it weren’t for Nick. The founder had looked for anyone who wanted to train his dog for him and Nick was in enough of a bind that he took up the job. Things were rocky at first but everything changed the night Nick snuck Bo out to the border of the woods he came from. He took off his collar and muzzle and nodded to the woods, telling him he could leave if he wanted to. After seeing just how much trust and care Nick had for him he slowly came up to him and licked his cheek, cementing their new friendship

Bo was basically a human-ish looking dog before, but with Nick’s training, Bo started to learn english, and spanish actually. Bo isn’t conversational in spanish but he knows it well enough to know what’s being said to him and curse out anyone he doesn’t like. He chooses not to speak most of the time because he likes being in his puppy space and he feels like talking kinda ruins it

Nick is also the reason Bo can even go into puppy space, though he usually, consensually, brings Bo out of it when they hang out. After all Nick’s hard work, Bo is the goodest boy known to man, he knows all the tricks in the book and, thanks to the propaganda Nick makes for him, loves his master. Bo would do anything for the founder now, and he has. Few people could forget how Bo ripped a guy’s throat out on stage at a public execution

The founder dies from natural causes so Bo just had to sit there and watch his master slowly deteriorate in front of him. He tries everything he can think of, bringing him his favorite toys, curling up at his feet, licking his face, but nothing can stop the march of time. Bo’s there when it happens, and the howl he let out when he passed could be heard through the whole town

After the funeral he just curled up right where he always slept, wishing his master was there to pet him to sleep like he used to. He’s a wreck, only eating when Nick brings him food, and even then he barely touches it. The poor thing looks more like a skeleton than the founder did before he passed, the only thing that can save him is a new purpose, a new master. You

Oh poor thing!! I love him so much, I love the balance between his human side and his dog side, and the bond between him and Nick 🥺 I can imagine how insane he'll be when you show up tho :3c

[spookyboywhump]

More Eve!!!!! This is her coming home + her first major injury :3c From here it’ll probably stop being chronological whatever I post with her and instead spaced out whenever just for funsies

Word Count: 2,240

CW: pet whump, dehumanization, burning of the whumpee

***

The girl looked around her new home curiously, her hands clasped together behind her back. From the moment they walked through the doorway she was overwhelmed by how neat and pristine everything looked, like the modeled rooms of a furniture store. She didn’t want to risk touching anything, like she would somehow break or dirty something just by putting her hands on it.

The woman, who had explained her name was Natalia Fairfax, but she could only refer to her as Miss, or Miss Fairfax, led her from room to room, a living room with a large television mounted on the wall, a well stocked kitchen and adjoining dining room, an office with bookshelves full of more books than she’d ever seen outside a store or library. Upstairs was Natalia’s bedroom, the guest bedrooms, and the guest bathroom. They were about to walk back downstairs when she finally spoke up, her voice soft and timid.

“Uh- um, Miss Fairfax…?” She asked hesitantly.

“Yes, what is it?” She paused with her hand on the staircase railing.

“Which room will be mine? I-I just want to make sure I ask before it gets too late-“

“Room? You think that pets get rooms?” There was that hint of a smile again, she was amused by what she thought was a simple question. “No, I’m sorry to say that I don’t spoil my pets. Bedrooms are for people, come with me downstairs and I’ll show you where you will sleep.” She told her.

“Yes ma’am…” She followed her back downstairs, being mindful to hide her disappointment. She knew that not all owners were as kind of generous as others, but it still hurt a little, she’d been so hopeful about sleeping in a real bed after so long on a concrete floor or uncomfortable cot.

In the kitchen there was another door aside from the one that led to the pantry, she hadn’t questioned it the first time they went through there. Natalia opened it up and turned a light on, leading her down another flight of stairs into the basement. Each step down made her more and more nervous, she’d always hated going down into the basement as a child, there were always spiders in the house she grew up in, and before she’d been bought she’d heard so many horror stories about owners with whole torture rooms in their basements, not unlike the training rooms she hated so much.

As they actually entered the main part of the basement, she saw it wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d been expecting, nothing special but clean, no weapons of torture in sight, just a nice washer and dryer, some racks containing extra household items and cleaning supplies, what looked like a closet for extra space, and some storage containers stacked up against the wall. She let out a sigh of relief, she almost felt silly for being so afraid.

“I hope you know how to do laundry, you’ll be responsible for all of it now as part of your chores.” Natalia said, and she nodded quickly.

“Yes ma’am, I can do that.” She assured her.

“Good, and you’ll be sleeping in there.” She said, gesturing to the closet door. “I’ve already left some things you’ll need in there, but I’ll have to do something about getting you more clothes and properly fitting shoes.” She said, looking her over, it felt like she was scrutinizing every aspect of her appearance. “You can take a look and take some time to rest if you need to, come find me upstairs when you’re ready.” She told her, and she nodded again. She watched her go back upstairs, waiting until she heard the door at the top shut before she finally relaxed. Natalia put her on edge, she was very cold and her eyes were intense no matter how she looked at her, she felt like one wrong move would get her in big trouble.

Now that she was alone, she went to check out what was supposed to be where she slept. It looked like a closet that had been cleaned out just for her, it was big enough to walk into, probably big enough to comfortably lay down in, but rather narrow. The shelves were almost empty, aside from some folded up blankets, a pillow, and a digital alarm clock.

She looked around the basement a little bit longer, getting herself familiar with another part of the house she’d be working in. Finally, she went back upstairs where she found Natalia in her office. She looked up from her laptop when she entered the room, giving her a disapproving look.

“You’ll want to knock before entering a room unless I’ve called you inside from now on. Go ahead and come here though.” She said, pushing her chair back from her desk. Nervously, she walked over to her, and after Natalia gestured to the floor, she dropped to her knees. “I need to get you a new collar, which means you’ll get a name tag with it. I’ve been thinking about the name Eve for you.” She told her.

“Eve…?”

“Yes. It’s short, but I think it’ll fit you nicely. I expect you to respond immediately when I call your name, do you understand?” She’d been anxious about what Natalia may choose to name her, she’d heard of all kinds of demeaning and humiliating names pets had gotten stuck with, but Eve… she thought it was pretty, she felt lucky even.

“Yes ma’am.” Eve told her, accepting her new name without complaint. She wouldn’t say she had no attachment to her actual name, but she’d happily take this over anything insulting.

“Good girl.” Natalia smiled at her. “As long as you obey me and do your job here well, then you should be fine. I intend to keep you only as long as you’re useful, but you seem like you’ll last a while.” Eve chose to take that as a compliment, she wanted to last a while, forever even. After all, she didn’t want to find out what Natalia did with pets that were no longer useful.

***

Eve settled down n and tried to adapt to the rules here quickly. She learned the hard way the first morning he woke up in the house that Natalia would allow her to learn to cook, but that she should learn quickly as she wouldn’t be allowed to eat anything she hadn’t prepared. Natalia had put instructions for making breakfast on the counter and told her to start learning or go hungry, and sadly, she was not a natural in the kitchen. For the first few weeks her diet consisted primarily of burnt toast and overcooked eggs, most of the other food she messed up wasn’t even edible.

The rest of the chores were easy, but exhausting on a nearly empty stomach. She cleaned her mistakes in the kitchen multiple times a day and tended to the upkeep of every single other room in the house. She felt like she was cleaning before the mess could even be created, but she supposed this was just what was necessary to keep a home like this looking as picture perfect as it was.

She didn’t think it would be hard, only Natalia lived there after all, but with the amount of things that needed to be done every single day, she hardly had a moment to herself until she was allowed to go to bed. That alarm clock would go off at five thirty every morning, when she would have to get up and start everything over again.

After nearly two months there, her skills with breakfast had improved immensely, she could make a variety of things now and she felt more confident in her abilities there, but dinner was causing her to struggle. She was always overwhelmed, there were always so many things to do at once and it never came out right. She’d usually end up going to bed hungry after Natalia scolded her for messing up again.

She’d been punished for some of the most ruined meals, made to kneel on dry rice for two hours after she mistakenly burnt the rice for dinner, salt rubbed into preexisting cuts and scrapes when she seriously over salted one meal, she never resisted the punishments and as she cried, Natalia would tell her she would know better next time now, she wouldn’t have to repeat this, and she’d keep those punishments in the back of her mind whenever she went to start preparing another meal.

The worst of it came late one evening. She’d fallen behind on her chores so dinner was running late, and though Eve was doing her best, she was in a hurry and things were not going well. The chicken she’d been cooking in one pan had clearly burnt and there was no going back from that and the water she was trying to boil for pasta seemed like it would never reach a boiling point. She kept stirring the sauce in the pot on a back burner, anxiously biting her lip as she knew there was no way in which this could end well for her. She froze as she heard footsteps entering the room, Natalia approaching her.

“Again, Eve?” She asked, sounded exasperated.

“I-I’m sorry ma’am, I’m sorry, I was trying but there was just-“

“I don’t want to hear your excuses!” She snapped at her. She shoved her away from the stove, looking over the damage she’d done this time. “I feel I’ve been more than patient with you and yet you continue to fuck up completely simple tasks, I’m starting to wonder if you’re even worth keeping around!” The comment felt like a punch to the gut, Eve’s heart pounded in her chest, sweat pricked at the back of her neck and suddenly the spacious kitchen felt much smaller, much hotter, she thought she was going to be sick.

“N-no!” She blurted out. “No, please, I promise I’ll do better, please punish me, give- give me more time, I’ll do better!” She insisted, tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t know what would happen to her if Natalia decided she wasn’t worth keeping around, she didn’t know if they’d take her back and let her work again or if they’d finally just put her down and get it over with. Natalia just looked even angrier with her, her hand wrapped around the handle of the pot of hot water.

“You do not tell me no.” She said through gritted teeth. Eve took a step back, she knew she was in danger, she hadn’t seen Natalia this angry before.

“I’m sorry…” She whimpered. Apologies meant nothing to Natalia though, and she knew that, it had never helped her before, but Natalia’s punishments were always strategic and thought out. She didn’t take even a second to think about this, she lifted the pot from the stove in one quick movement and splashed the hot water onto her, eliciting a shriek from Eve as she instinctively turned away to protect herself.

She didn’t throw the whole pot of near boiling water on her, but it was certainly enough, and she’d only managed to protect her chest and stomach from getting the worst of it. The right side of her body was still soaked, searing pain from her shoulder all the way down her leg, she could feel it in her ribs, her shorts wet and sticking to her thigh, she desperately shook water off her arm as she cried, stumbling towards the sink for cold water.

“H-hot, it’s really hot, please- please help me, I’m sorry ma’am, I’m sorry, please help!” She cried, trying to run cold water from the faucet over her arm but it just wasn’t enough, too much of her body felt like it was on fire for just the kitchen sink to help her, her legs were shaking and all she could think of was how badly she needed the pain to stop.

“Why should I? You brought this on yourself.” Natalia said, glaring at her.

“Please!” She sobbed, collapsing against the counter, barely managing to hold herself up by gripping onto the edge. After a moment Natalia sighed heavily, she stormed over and opened a drawer next to the sink to get a hand towel before shutting the water off. She used the towel to dry off the remaining water on her, she was so rough in doing so it caused Eve to start screaming again.

“Quiet! I’m trying to help you but I won’t if you’re going to keep shrieking in my ear!” She hissed, and Eve bit down on her lip, whimpering pitifully as she tried to keep quiet. Natalia took her arm in her hand, looking over the damage done with a scowl on her face. “I think you’re going to need to see someone for this.”

“Like… Like a doctor…?” She asked.

“Yes, a doctor.” She said it like Eve was stupid. “Not the kind you’re used to I’m sure.” Eve didn’t know what she meant by that, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

She assumed if she was going to see a doctor, she’d be given treatment, even time to recover. She was already praying that it wouldn’t take too long, Natalia was being gracious enough to get her seen at all, she just hoped she intended to keep her afterwards.

[prismaticpichu]

A few days back the amazing @catboy-sephiroth shared some writing based on an idea that I once shared with him—that being Zack suffers from degradation and ultimately ends up facing Sephiroth in a Modeoheim-mirroring battle. We both ended up tackling this prompt, actually, so I thought (with permission) why not share my slice of it?? It’s been sitting in the waiting room of my files since May now, so it’s high time to finally give this nugget a home :3c

~

"YOU MADE ME DO IT!" Zack finally roared it, finally pushed it through, those serrated words splitting into a dozen as they echoed around the room. He balled his fists, the venom gushing through gritted teeth. There was no holding it back. It had snapped the tethers.

"You were a COWARD, that's what you were! You could have done something--anything--but you pushed it on me! And now he's dead because of YOU!" The Buster Sword shook in his grip, and he hoisted it, seized it, its tip speared forward in hunger. Acid rain trickled from the dim Mako eyes. "You killed him... just like you do best."

Sephiroth couldn't find the words to speak. He felt nauseous, in that tempest of knives and poison and accusation. All the gauze, all the balm, all the stitching that kept him together... all the reassurances. The countless, countless reassurances. For that to be so ruthlessly stripped away, all at once, pried from his skin with nails. Even if their conversation had been escalating, even he had raised his voice, even if it knew that it was because of...

Standing numb, Sephiroth narrowed his eyes--if only because there was nothing else he could do.

"Zack. Put down your sword." He pushed the incredulity as far down as he could. Scraped from his voice. Masamune was held tight at his side, the rousing sense of challenge too instinctual for him to put her away. And that instinct filled him with a dread he couldn't comprehend.

His words made no dent; Zack only snarled under his breath, seething. "You're going to ignore what I said?!"

"Put down your sword."

"You can't accept it? You can't?"

"Now."

"You can't?"

"Zackary.”

"You CAN'T?--"

"I did not drive my blade through him!"

The roar exploded out of him--from his throat, from his chest, from his wounds--those serrated words splitting into a dozen as they echoed around him. Again. And again.

And as quickly as they left him, horror seized Sephiroth's heart.

No... no. He hadn't. He hadn't.

For a beat, even Zack seemed stunned, afflicted, the fire momentarily smothered, his eyes wide... but then all at once his anger rekindled. Brighter. Fiercer. Irreversible. And with a cry he charged forward.

There was no time for anything else; Sephiroth was forced to counter the blow as Zack rammed into him with unrelenting, enraged force, sparks spewing, metal clanging, his friend's rage-twisted expression flashing in front of his eyes.

"Zack," Sephiroth grit his teeth, a painful throb pounding in his chest. "Don't do this."

Was this the pain Zack had felt when confronting Angeal? Pleading to someone who seemed deaf, who wanted to cut him down?

No... no the sting had to be so much worse then. It wasn't comparable. He would never know the torment Zack had to endure, the sheer desperation, the horrid, gory aftermath that still plagued him every day. The hopelessness. The crying. The disease that had claimed his dear mentor.

An arrow sliced into Sephiroth's heart.

No... no he wouldn't repeat history.

The man pulled away, retreating, jumping backwards and creating a safe gap between the two of them. He watched as Zack skidded backwards from the impact, shaking his head. The blue eyes remained aflame.

"Coward," Zack repeated, and he readjusted his blade, shifting his feet, preparing to lunge again.

But Sephiroth was faster.

Masamune was dropped with a shrill, echoing clatter, and Sephiroth rushed forward, charging in a silver blur, unafraid, unprotected.

And pulled Zack into an embrace.

Time stopped, just for a blessed moment. Tensing. Stiffening. The boy frozen in his arms. His heartbeat frantic in his chest.

"...Zack..." Sephiroth mumbled, his voice rattling against the air. "I love you."

Slowly, gradually, like dying cinders, Zack stopped resisting. His breath relaxed into a calm, steady rhythm, and he slumped into Sephiroth's arms... his eyes widening. It was like removing a veil. It was like being yanked back to the surface.

"Seph..." Zack's voice splintered, and fresh, cleansing rain began purifying the acid. He burrowed into his neck, dropping Buster Sword to throw his arms around him. "Seph..."

Sephiroth's thunderous heartbeat quelled with relief. He clutched him tighter, letting out a sigh, resting his cheek against the wilting silver strands.

"I'm so sorry..." Zack choked on his words. Oh man... he said such horrible things. Horrible, untrue things.

"it's not your fault," Sephiroth said quietly, balancing the added strength Zack was pouring into him. He was riddled with so much guilt. Pain. "It's not your fault..."

We will this fix.

I am not losing you, too.

~

(Check out Catboy’s scene too! <3)

[umbracirrus]

Oh and also ⭐ for your favourite scene in The Perfect Storm so far >:3c

Oooh, my favourite scene so far... That has to be when Elyse gives Balgruuf her dragonbone axe in chapter 10 of The Perfect Storm!

Balgruuf then watched as she re-opened her eyes and turned to face him, then took a deep breath. “I know that this may sound absolutely silly, but I… I feel the need to thank you for taking me in. I’m aware that you have Proventus ensuring that any letters for me that arrive in Whiterun come through him, and that I get nothing from Ulfric or his people. That you have Irileth checking up on me every so often. Not to mention that I may have overheard a few people talking about the amount of scorn which Ulfric is giving you for shielding me. All of that on top of having me impose upon yours and your family’s personal space, for the foreseeable future…” She let out a tired laugh and shook her head as she did so, before holding it out, as though wanting him to take it. “It’s only a simple axe, nowhere near enough to compensate you for everything, but I want you to have it.” He had to stop himself from telling her that it was nonsense that she felt the need to give him something in thanks, until a single thought ran through his head. This was an axe; intricately designed and hand-crafted by the Dragonborn herself; using the bones of a dragon whose defeat was significant not just to her, but to him, to Whiterun, perhaps also to Skyrim as a whole because it was the first dragon to be defeated by man since the beginning of the new dragon crisis… and she was offering it to him. It also didn’t escape him that she had mentioned in the past that she had Nordic blood in her heritage… Did she know of the implications surrounding the offering of an axe? A time-honoured tradition of forging alliances and enemies, it wasn’t as though he could say no to it now. If she knew of the deeper meaning and he were to reject it, could it push her away? And even if she didn’t know, it would be almost cruel to reject it – it had taken time and thought to decide that she wanted to part with the axe and that he would be worthy of being its wielder in her stead. “Elyse… It would be an honour to accept it.”

I absolutely knew that I needed to write a scene involving Elyse gifting Balgruuf an axe as soon as I wrote this mini essay about the importance of gifting axes in Skyrim and the fact that as Elyse was Thane of Whiterun, Balgruuf had already given her one.

Elyse gets really uncomfortable with her own issues burdening others, but she knew that she needed to let that happen given the circumstances at the time. Growing up she was used to having very few people to lean on for help - it was basically just her and her parents, after all, even after they settled in Chorrol. The fact that Balgruuf had been helping her more or less since she had set foot in Skyrim made her feel that she needed to thank him for everything, but especially for everything that was going on at the time - she may not like her issues on others' shoulders, but she knows that manners are a thing (most of the time!)

And of course, Balgruuf doesn't know that she doesn't know about that tradition in Skyrim, and doesn't want to offend her by saying that she doesn't have to give him an axe, especially not one which was so sentimental! He doesn't want to alienate her and make her feel as though nobody was on her side - he holds her in incredibly high esteem and would never intentionally do anything which could cause turmoil between them. Ever.

Like. There isn't a romantic relation between them at this point - there won't be for a while - but it's one of the little things that are kindling it. A tiny little spark. But they don't know that yet :3

Oh, and I also have to mention the draft title for this chapter.

And yes I have literally set the Skyrim font for headings in my word document.

[addcests]

you. and i :: chapter two: and - ao3 mirror ??? :: series - ao3 link

pairing DBr x Dom

words 642

rating [G]

summary Doom Bringer opens his eyes. - five times doom bringer spends together with dominator. and then one more time.

note what a cute little breakfast together! :3c

Doom Bringer opens his eyes. 

This time he looks around and finds himself in the middle of the kitchen, this time Dominator’s arms are secure and snug, locked around his waist in a makeshift hug. Without even looking, Doom Bringer can tell just like that, like second nature, natural. And like natural, he hears his complaint, “I can’t cook if you’re holding onto me like that.” 

He knows Dominator will not listen, not when he is like this. Persistent. 

But it’s not a bad thing (usually). 

So Doom Bringer takes comfort in this too and makes their meal, breakfast most likely, it is Dominator’s favorite. When he looks into the pan, he sees he was making a fried egg, apparently. He sets out to finish this one for Dominator, who likes his eggs to be a little runny. 

It’s a bit of a task, what with Dominator refusing to let go of him still, being unusually clingy in a way he hasn’t seen him been since his Mastermind days, but Doom Bringer manages to whip together a filling meal for them both.

He finds himself sitting, with Dominator suddenly serving them both. Last he recalled, he had had the plates in hand, but he supposes Dominator snatched them away. Doom Bringer remains where he is. He wants to protest but finds that he doesn’t.

“Just hold tight,” Dominator calls out, as if he can sense Doom Bringer’s innate need to finish his task. “You already did all of this work, I can… be of help too.” 

Doom Bringer always thinks Dominator is plenty helpful. It is why he relies on him, why they’re partners, confidants in one another.

Instead of saying this, he instead finds himself replying, “Thank you, it’s a nice—” Change of pace? “—gesture.” 

Well, he doesn’t think he would ever say it like that. 

His thoughts begin to wander, but before he could grasp and hold onto a single thought long enough, Dominator slides over and everything he begins to think about fizzes away into nothing. How could he care for anything else, when Dominator is so sweetly looping his arms around his neck, Dominator’s chest to Dominator’s back as Dominator leans down and against the brawler’s chair, resting his chin atop Doom Bringer’s head. 

Again, his heart swells with affection for this man above him, and he reaches up. His gloved hand finds Dominator’s cheek and, though it’s a bit of an awkward angle for him, turns so that he can place an equally sweet kiss to his cheek.

Once more, Dominator seems as if he was not expecting that to occur, but he accepts it nonetheless. 

“You are awfully cuddly so early in the morning.” (It was morning, wasn’t it?) “How much coffee have you had already,” he playfully accuses. (He doesn’t remember making the coffee, but surely he must have. It is all this infuriating man drinks, after all.) 

Dominator peers down at Doom Bringer, smiles, and moves around him to sit opposite him. He prattles off some insane amount of cups and then they eat in comfortable domesticity. Eventually, they finish, dishes are collected, cleaned, put away.

Doom Bringer watches Dominator walk away, leaving the kitchen. He smiles to himself and tags along. 

Dominator is already some paces ahead, but the scientist stops long enough to glance over his shoulder. The pause is long enough for one to think Dominator was… waiting for something, his gaze trailing past the brawler, like there was something else that caught Dominator’s eye. He then whirls forward and resumes his stride with a sense of purpose now.

He figures Dominator is off to rush back to some project, like usual.

Hands shoved in his pocket, Doom Bringer does his best to catch up with Dominator before he loses him.

And then, that is the last thing Doom Bringer remembers. 

[finniestoncrane]

(Ednyxmatic here. Curse the limitations of sideblogs.)

Yooo! Congrats on the 1k. I love your headcanons and fics. You totally deserve the 1k. :3c

If you feel so inspired to write something, could I ask for number 9?

Here is a bit about me 😅 :

I’m 5 feet 3 inches and blonde with long hair. I have glasses very similar to the style that Daniel Jackson wears on Stargate: SG-1. I’m grey ace and look feminine, but I am somewhere under the non-binary umbrella.

For my personality traits, uh, well, I have two anxiety disorders, lol. Specifically social anxiety and generalized anxiety. I definitely try to be social when I can, /but/ it can be difficult. I’m definitely a hopeless romantic, often to a fault. I could best be described as … indoorsy. I like reading, writing, occasionally drawing, and watching movies. In particular I’m a pretty huge horror movie fan. I also very much enjoy movies from the 30s-50s, particularly film noir.

I also enjoy houseplants and love reptiles. I actually own two lizards. :D

I got an English lit degree and my job involves copy editing and writing, so analyzing writing and such is a big part of my personal and professional life.

Thank you very much for reading this! And no problem if you don’t get a chance to respond!

🎀 No.9: Ever Fallen In Love With Someone 🎀

tell me a little bit about yourself and i'll give you a rogue pairing a/n: i literally read this and was like "him" for serious u-u 1k milestone info! 🔞minors dni🔞 • kofi • tag: finnie1k

quick sidenote: had no idea who daniel jackson was, never seen a lick of stargate, will now be binging it because james spader in those glasses has me REELING

ok so, non-binary works so well for harvey. you can be everything, you can be nothing, it works for him because while there is no absolute, the absence of something is the presence of something

he's also more focused on a relationship that brings something to the table, something he can work with. the same kind of partnership (although on slightly better terms hopefully) as he has with two face

i'm not making light in the slightest but hey, it's the perfect number of anxiety disorders to have. and he'd be more than happy to do the talking for you in social situations, both of them would be

he'd also understand the need to will yourself to be social, it's easy for him to shut himself away, with the only person he can speak to being himself, so it would be good for you both to encourage each other

hopeless romantic? now we're talking. because i think harvey is one of the softest, most romantic boys out there. really traditionally woos people, charms them and romances them like he was in some terribly dramatic old movie

which speaking of, he is definitely a massive fan of film noir, so that would make an excellent date for you both, either at a film festival or watching them on the sofa

creativity, especially indoorsy creativity, would suit him. someone who is grounded in themselves and can work away quietly would be a nice calming presence. he's a house person really, you don't see him striving to get out and about unless he has crimes to commit, so having someone else kicking around the place with him would be nice

please, stop with the twos! you have two lizards? perfect. one is harvey's favourite now and the other is two face's favourite. i don't know much about them, but the spicier of the two, guess who's favourite that one is...

gosh you've got intelligence in scores, and that's so key. i think harvey's intelligence is often overlooked, his temper and attitude sometimes overshadow it. but the man was a DA, he passed the bar. so someone on an intellectual equal with him, especially in something as interesting for him as copy editing, would make the perfect partner

[newvegascowboy]

red and cato for 17? i just want them to suffer together >:-D

>:3c smiling like the grinch rn. can do!

from here

“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…” Red is standing at the splintered window sill, rimmed in light seeping in through the shutters. A howl of wind batters at the shutters and sand filters down through a crack in the ceiling. "Sandstorm out there doesn't look like it's stopping any time soon," they say absently. They glance over their shoulder, smiling faintly. "Guess we've got time to kill." "Nobody followed us?" Cato asks. "Not in this weather." Pushing off the wall, Red strides over to him. There's not much furnishing this old shack - just a dusty table and a few chairs, and one cot on a rickety frame that Cato doesn't trust - but it's better than nothing. The shack has been abandoned for some time by the looks of it, but that doesn't mean the owner won't come back. Relaxing minutely, Cato sinks into one of the chairs. It squeaks under his weight, but holds. Dropping his head to one hand, he lets out a long breath. He takes a moment to compose himself, then looks up, watching Red shake sand from the brim of their hat and toss it onto the table.

"Supplies," he asks. "How much do you carry in those saddlebags?" Red glances at the bags resting by the door -- all they'd managed to snag before the storm had overtaken them. "Enough to last us through the night," they say, shrugging out of their duster. "Relax." "I'm thinking ahead." "You're getting agitated," Red corrects, leveling him with a look. "Relax. Nobody is here, and nobody can track us through the storm. We're safer here than we were before the storm hit."

Almost as if to prove their point, Red unbuckles the belt strapping their gun to their hip. They sling it onto the table, hands spread. "You're paranoid."

"I'm careful."

"Same difference," Red mutters, turning. Cato bites back a retort, brows furrowing. There's a small patch of red darkening the fabric of Red's shirt, just at the small of their back. The cotton is torn, a strip of bloodied skin flashing underneath. Cato shift. "Perhaps if you were as careful as I am, you wouldn't be injured," he says. Cato gestures. "You're bleeding," he notes.

Red makes a noise, twisting. Their fingers hook through the hole in their shirt, prodding at the wound beneath. From the look of the stain, it's been bleeding for some time. "Look at that. Bullet must've winged me," they say, all too casual. "It'll buff."

"You should take care of it," Cato says. "It's unwise to leave wounds unattended."

A wry smile twists the corners of Red's mouth, oh so familiar. "I've had worse," they say, tossing their duster to the side and pulling at the fingers of their gloves. The movements are easy, belying no pain or discomfort. Crossing their arms, Red settles back against the wall of the old shack, staring at Cato with one eyebrow lifted.

"I insist."

"You insist?" Red repeats, smile growing. "I might be a little offended if you think a scratch like that is going to put me down."

"I'm not worried about offending you," Cato says, mirroring Red as he crosses his arms. "I'm worried about the likelihood of infection."

The expression on Red's face sours a bit. Cato has seen it before. Different now that they're older, but still the same look of irritation whenever anyone dared to remind them that they're only human.

"Something tells me you aren't going to let this go," Red says.

Leaning back, Cato smiles. "As you say, we have nothing but time."

There's a beat of silence. Red's eyes narrow, a muscle in their jaw pulling taut. Cato can't help but grin. Huffing, Red rolls their eyes and pushes off the wall. "Fine," they mutter, unbuttoning their vest and tossing it to the side. "For a heartless Legionary, you sure are soft."

"Given the circumstances, I think I can let it slide," Cato says. The remark stings, but he doesn't let it show. He ignores the oppressive clench of guilt at his stomach and instead folds his hands in his lap. "I won't tell if you don't."

Red only rolls their eyes as they pull off their shirt. Cato almost laughs at the sight of the tan dipping low on their chest, but he bites the inside of his mouth and holds his tongue. Eyeing the bloody tear in the fabric, Red seems to mull something over in their head before shrugging and tossing it to the side.

"Now, I don't have much in the way of a first aid kit, so this entire debate may be moot," they say, turning to where their duster is lying draped over the back of a chair. Whatever amusement Cato had been feeling abruptly dies.

Red's back is a ragged, thorny mass of ancient scars. They streak across the skin in knotted ropes, tangled together in places and frighteningly stark in others. The oldest ones are silvery, but not yet faded enough as to blend in with the rest of Red's skin. Muscles shift beneath the scar tissue, rippling as Red crouches to rummage through their saddlebags. At the nape of their neck, almost hidden by the ends of their hair, the brand sits . Cato stares at it, caught in the accusing glare of Caesar's bull.

God, Cato fucking remembers.

He hadn't known Jack well, then. They wouldn't be well acquainted until after Jack had been branded, but Cato had known of them - that feral little boy, the defiant one who had always stood nearly head and shoulders above their peers with their jaw set and eyes hard.

He remembers watching Jack being whipped, once. Cato doesn't remember why, but he remembers the way Jack had taken each lash in utter silence. No gag to muffle the noise, just the determination not to falter. How old had Jack been - twelve? Thirteen? There were so many lashings it was hard to place them all, but Cato remembers watching the corded leather lay open Jack's skin and thinking that it was right. That if Jack only listened, this wouldn't happen. If they only fell in line.

The whippings had been to break them, but in hindsight, all they had done was sharpen Jack's teeth. Now Red bears the scars of a life they don't remember. Everyone carries the past with them in some way, but very few bear it like Red.

"Cato?"

Cato blinks, taking a sharp breath as his eyes refocus on Red. Red is watching him, expression guarded. There's a roll of gauze in one hand. "Sorry," Cato says, breathless. He swallows hard, quelling the shaking in his hands as he lifts his chin.

"You all right?" Red asks warily. "Lost you there for a second."

"Sorry," Cato says, and he isn't stupid enough to think that Red doesn't notice the way he has to force his voice under control. "I was in my head, that's all. I'm fine."

It's an obvious lie and both of them know it. Red was always more discerning than most. After a beat, they only hitch a shoulder and relax. "I need a helping hand, and since you're the one on my case I figure you got no right to refuse," they say, tossing him the roll of gauze.

"Of course," Cato says.

"You're not going to get all queasy at the sight of blood, are you?"

A brief flash of irritation overrides the swell of panic and Cato huffs. "I'm more than capable of cleaning a wound," he says. "Sit."

Smiling faintly, Red drops to the chair beside Cato and slings their elbows across their knees. Cato presses two fingers to their spine between their shoulder blades, careful to avoid the knotted scar tissue striping the skin. "Lean forward."

"You're going to think I like doing what I'm told," Red says, but does as Cato asks.

"Trust me, you won't," Cato mutters. Red snorts a laugh, but otherwise, remains still.

For all their bluster, Red isn't a terrible patient. They barely move as he cleans the wound, except for a bare twitch of muscle in their back. Red's breathing remains even. It could be almost peaceful if the sight of the scarring didn't threaten to send Cato into a spiral.

Something must clue Red in to his wandering mind, because they stir, lifting their head. "Not very pretty, is it?" they murmur.

Cato flushes hot. His fingers still over the wound on their back - in truth, very minor. Certainly in comparison to the rest of it. "I..." he starts. "I wasn't going to say anything."

"S'alright," Red says. "I know how it looks."

Cato's touch is gentle, thumb running along the ridge of the scar that cuts across their low back. Red doesn't stir and Cato tilts his head. "Can you feel this?"

Humming, Red lifts a hand over their shoulder and tips it back and forth. "Not really. Pressure, if you push hard enough. Some places are fine, but I think most of the nerves back there just quit."

"It would appear to be so," Cato says softly.

Red turns to glance at him over their right shoulder. "I don't need your pity," they say, a warning note entering their voice. "It is what it is. No use crying over it."

"Not pity," Cato says, dropping his eyes to tape down the edges of the gauze. "But I am sorry, nonetheless."

"Don't be sorry," Red says, straightening. "Wasn't you who whipped me, was it?"

"No," Cato says -- truthfully, though in a different life, he may as well have.

"Then don't beg forgiveness for shit you had nothing to do with."

"Right," Cato says softly. "Of course."

[wooyoungisbaby]

u wu

“Do I need to give you two some alone time?”

MAybe he should, some time. js.

And honestly? The hard glint in his eyes is not exactly celibate either.

WHAt? Choi San fucks? unrealistic, blocked and reported.

Wooyoung has made one of his intentions all too clear.

is he gonna eat pussy. who am i kidding i read this before, i know hes gonna get so deep in that pussy he can barely breathe god bless.

Wooyoung is on his knees in nothing but fitted boxers — and a pair of handcuffs.

consider me fuckig slain. in love, also.

GOd fuck, San making Woo suck him off as a warm-up? that’s the hottest thing he could have possibly done in this situation. wooyoung should (and im saying this with as much love and tenderness as is possible) be used and ruined <3

ACK the wooyoung lip mole appreciation :’)))) <3

Wooyoung’s eyes open with a flash of triumph, fully aware of the effect he has on you.

im LIVING for confiden Woo :’)) he knows he’s the shit™ and he’s not afraid of acting that way 10/10

He is beautiful like this, bound and left to the whims of you and San

the cinnamon tography… the poeticism. im sobbign

Him getting hard and needy just from eating Reader out, is So good and in character like YES he is a slut for being a good boy!! And then Reader yanking on his hair to make him stop teasing, which only makes him hornier? im on the floor.

You were right; the slope of his nose is perfect for grinding on

i am being very normal and perfectly hinged about this

“That tongue is one of the few things you’re good for, I know you can do better with it. “ “Might be out of practice. Do you even remember where to find her clit, hm? Or have you gotten that rusty?” “There I almost thought you’re nothing but a cockslut but you are just as whipped for pussy, aren’t you?” “Does he feel good, baby? Is my little cockslut making you feel good?”

FUc;k me all the talking over his head like he’s just a toy or like he’s not even there,,,,,, aaaa it’s so tastie what the fuck <3 my heart would be breaking a little bit if it weren’t for the fact that you made it no secret how much Woo loves it.

“I said,” he growls, covering your hand in Wooyoung’s hair with his own, overpowering you to pull the redhead back, “Wooyoung should thank you.” “A-ah! Thank you, thankyou,” Wooyoung keens.

screaming into the heavens brb

it’s SO cute that Wooyoung is still ravenous af after Reader cums for the first time. like obviously! he didn’t cum yet, he just wants more =u= and his little petty way of getting Reader’s attention back when San is stealing it?? stellar, he absolutely would. greedy little boy.

Wooyoung’s dick smacks wetly against his stomach, so hard and flushed that it looks painful — just from eating you out, neglected all this time.

i NEED to kiss him it’s making me stupid hjnhjnhjj he’s doing so good!! so patient and generous = w=

Maybe… maybe you feel a little mean right now. :3c

Fu c k. The way Reader asked to watch San cum, leaving Woo behind for the moment, was so hot. I do love some edging, and the fact that Woo has done most of the work and is still being denied, is sooooo… it’s. idk. i love it so much. San even came on him, it’s almost like he’s mocking him and im NORMAL about it i promise (lying).

just fucking screaming rn honestly. it’s so hot how San and Reader work together to get Woo off, even if San is just pinning him in place. Both their attention is on Woo, and he deserves it so much after how well he did =u=

“You’re a damn menace,” you mumble at Wooyoung, who just grins cheekily at you. “Yep,” he agrees proudly.

possibly the most in character thing he’s said yet :’)

both San and Wooyoung appear perfectly comfortable to be shared.

yeah bc theyre fuckin pogchamps. amen

The ending where Reader gets vulnerable in a little bit of a different way (compared to the rest of the chapter) is such a neat little bow, confirming that she is indeed safe and that they take her and her comfort and boundaries seriously, and not just the sexual ones. It’s so sweet :)

whichever way [woosan x reader] pt3

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, friends with benefits

ch. summary: what Wooyoung wants, Wooyoung gets.

wc: 8.0k

ch. warnings: dom San, bratty sub Wooyoung, sub/switch-ish reader, threesome with m x m, so much cunnilingus, body worship, biting, marking, finger sucking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, blowjobs, cum eating, nipple play, handcuffs (on Wooyoung), light painkink (also Wooyoung), hair pulling, face-sitting, dirty talk, degradation (@ Wooyoung; ‘cockslut’ is used), frottage, masturbation, praise kink, implied subspace, orgasm control / edging, squirting, light dacryphilia, pet names for reader (‘baby’ and ‘sweet/good girl’), aftercare

a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

After your first night with San and Wooyoung, the ground rules go through a few adjustments. Some are pretty minor, others more… substantial.

Unlike last time, Wooyoung is also here for the conversation; and you’re more than a little distracted by his presence. Your memory keeps replaying the moment of his desperate breakdown to touch you, making you fight a constant itch to rub your thighs together — and judging by the looks Wooyoung gives you? He has his own memories on his mind.

“Wooyoung? Woo? You’re good with this?” San asks. He waves a hand in front of Wooyoung’s face to get his attention, only half jokingly.

“Hm? Yeah yeah. Yes, that’s good,” Wooyoung says, lifting himself from a daze. His voice is tight, not sounding good at all. Like nothing will ever be good again until he has you flat on your back, writhing under his tongue.

“Usually you’re a lot more chatty during a talk like this,” San teases. “Do I need to give you two some alone time?”

Without looking away from you, Wooyoung reaches to grab for San’s hand, like it’s on instinct. He meets Wooyoung halfway, fingers slotting together easily — but instead of jealous or upset, San looks more interested in the eye-fucking that’s happening right in front of him.

And honestly? The hard glint in his eyes is not exactly celibate either.

It only works you up more; the way San keeps biting his lip is almost as distracting as Wooyoung’s heated stare. It definitely is a very different conversation from last time, the air charged with restless excitement — but the end result is similar, leaving you with a rough framework of expectations, but not too many specifics.

…Other than the obvious, of course.

Wooyoung has made one of his intentions all too clear.

This means that when the next night together comes around, you are not in the least surprised to have Wooyoung sitting on a pillow in front of you, nested between your thighs. “Hey,” he says, staring up at you with a crooked grin on his face. “Nice seeing you again.”

“Hi yourself,” you say, slightly breathless already.

You are sitting on the edge of San’s bed, wearing only a simple robe. Wooyoung is on his knees in nothing but fitted boxers — and a pair of handcuffs. Broad strips of soft black leather, connected with a silvery chain.

That last part is a surprise; bondage had come up in passing, but you did not expect it to come out tonight. San had dangled the cuffs in front of Wooyoung earlier, not brokering any protest. Clearly he meant it when he said he did not mind improvising.

“Only your mouth will do, right?” San had told Wooyoung. “Always bragging about that tongue of yours… Are you worried you can’t get her off like this?”

Despite an initial objection, Wooyoung had relented quickly; maybe out of pride, or maybe he was worried that San could snatch you away from him at the last moment. The cuffs’ effect was subtle but instantaneous; a slight daze had drawn across Wooyoung’s face, betraying he was not as adverse to the restrains as he pretended.

So here he is in front of you now, breathtakingly on display. With his arms pulled back by the cuffs, Wooyoung’s chest is opened up to you, smooth tanned skin with dusky pebbled nipples. His eyes stare up at you, burning with a singular goal; to devour you whole.

San stands behind him, a firm hold on the back of Wooyoung’s neck to tilt his head back; offering Wooyoung up to you as much as you are offered up to him. You only need to reach out to touch Wooyoung — finally touch him — and you do just so.

The corner of Wooyoung’s mouth twitches when you lean in. His eyes are drawn to where your robe threatens to fall open, giving him a generous view of your cleavage. The look on his face is dark with hunger, heating your skin, but his eyes snap back to your face when your fingers brush across his cheek. He licks his lips; lips that are already swollen from barely ten minutes ago.

“Now, why don’t we give that pretty mouth a warm-up? Show me you deserve that sweet cunt,” San had told Wooyoung, pulling down the waistband of his grey sweatpants just enough to take out his cock.

And god, Wooyoung had shown him.

He had focused on using his tongue, thick swipes and kitten licks. Never taking San too deep, suckling on the flushed cockhead as he lapped at every drop of precum. All while looking at you from the corner of his eyes as he moaned around San’s cock, making a point of arching his back, prettying himself up for you.

In Wooyoung’s eyes had burned a promise, no, a challenge; will you be able to handle him?

Now you are about to find out.

You continue to slowly map out the striking features of Wooyoung’s face, but your thumb lingers on his bottom lip. You’re pulled in by the discovery of a small freckle that is just begging to be kissed. Just when you are intently contemplating that thought, Wooyoung decides he has had enough of sitting quietly — and he strikes at you with a playful nip at your fingers, sharp teeth grazing against your skin.

“Hey!” Startled, you pull your hand back, pouting at Wooyoung for rudely interrupting your exploration of his pretty face.

“Careful, Woo,” San warns, yanking him back by the hair.

Wooyoung hisses, his teeth digging into the freckle you had so admired. “Sorry,” he says with a laugh, not sounding sorry at all. “I only bite the people I like, promise.”

Standing behind Wooyoung, San’s dominant role breaks for a split moment; he makes a face as though to say, “That’s a fair point, actually.”

“Come,” Wooyoung says, nodding his chin to beckon your hand back to him. “Let me show you.”

You raise a sceptical eyebrow — but it’s hard to resist the blatant hunger in Wooyoung’s stare. Cautiously, you reach for him once again… and your breath hitches when he closes his lips around two of your fingers, sucking eagerly at the digits. He works on them with the same fervent enthusiasm as he had San’s dick, his eyes fluttering shut as he groans around your fingers. His nimble tongue gives you a direct preview of what is waiting for you, curling around your fingers and flicking sharply.

A quiet whine escapes you, the wet heat of Wooyoung’s mouth searing straight through your body, into your waiting cunt. Wooyoung’s eyes open with a flash of triumph, fully aware of the effect he has on you.

Slowly he releases your fingers, a thin string of saliva connecting them to his glistening lips. You use those fingers to draw a line along the sharpness of his jawline, smearing his face as you cup his cheek. Wooyoung moans at the mess you’re making of him; his shoulders jerk sharply, trying to move his arms despite the cuffs around his wrists.

He is beautiful like this, bound and left to the whims of you and San, but still you can’t help a needy moan at the way his hands strain to touch you back.

San grins when he notices, and softly tuts at you. “Patience. The cuffs don’t go off until he’s earned it.” He runs a rough hand through Wooyoung’s hair, pushing his head down.

Wooyoung stares up at you through messy bangs, a dangerous grin on his face. “You’re greedy,” he chides, but from him it sounds like a compliment. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll get you there with or without my fingers inside that needy pussy of yours.”

“…Prove it.”

Your demand slips out quietly but resolute. You are done waiting, and start to open your robe. “Don’t,” San interrupts. “He can do that himself. Unpack your present, Woo.”

“Gladly,” he scoffs. “If you’re trying to piss me off, that move won’t work.”

San’s fingers tighten in Wooyoung’s hair, giving it a small tug. “It’s not about you. Right now, it is all about her and that pretty cunt she’s generous enough to let you touch. Don’t forget it, unless you want to get in real trouble.”

Wooyoung whines at the pull, his eyes scrunching shut with a shudder. Your breath shallows at how responsive he is, and then San loosens his hold on Wooyoung enough to let him shuffle closer, crowding into your space. He leaves the robe alone at first, satisfied to simply nuzzle his face at where the garment starts to fall open naturally.

“So soft…” he groans, inhaling deeply against your chest. “All soft and warm for me…”

You shiver when hot breath falls on your skin, followed by a light brush of his lips. Your arms loosely encircle his shoulders to pull him closer, where your hand meets with San’s in Wooyoung’s hair. San makes room for you, covering your hand with his as your fingers entwine in the soft strands of Wooyoung’s red hair; silent encouragement to pull and move his head just as you like.

But you are curious what Wooyoung will do when left to his own devices, anticipation of the unknown stoking a fire between your thighs.

Wooyoung bends down to bite at the sash of your robe, staring up at you with an intense gaze. Slowly he pulls until the loose knot falls away, at which he drops the sash with an eager moan, nudging the fabric aside so he can press open-mouth kisses on your nipples, your sternum, your stomach, anywhere within reach. Sucking and nibbling as he luxuriates in the curves of your body, taking his time with you but clearly trailing downward towards his intended goal.

You whimper shakily, arms tightening around Wooyoung while he steadily builds up the gentle sparks in your stomach to sharp jolts of pleasure.

At first you think he is teasing — and perhaps he was, but Wooyoung grows more and more aggressive in his worship of you, shameless and noisy. He bites and laps greedily at your skin, tongue dipping into your belly button, sucking hungry bruises into the soft fold of your stomach. His head blocks your view of his crotch, but the way his hips twitch tell you he must be getting hard, if he isn’t already, and rapidly losing self-control.

You squirm at the thought, impatience testing your own self-control, making your fingers clench tighter in Wooyoung’s hair.

“You sure are taking your time, Woo,” San observers similarly, just when Wooyoung’s teeth sink into your plush thigh and you gasp at the sharp sting. “Don’t you think you’re neglecting that sweet pussy? Went on and on about how you want to fuck your tongue into that tight cunt until she cums on your face, drown yourself in her wet slick until you pass out. Told me you’ll make her squirt — are you going to prove that you can, or are you all talk?”

“F-fuck,” you whine, bracing yourself with a hand on the mattress behind you, arching into Wooyoung’s insatiable mouth.

“Never rush a quality meal,” he says, voice hoarse. “Gonna savour this. Every second, every drop.”

Wooyoung leaves more bites on your thigh, moving up, up — only to switch to the other side just when his nose brushes against your aching cunt, glistening with arousal. Now you know he is teasing.

“C’mon, Wooyoung…” you complain, his name comes out in a breathy moan. You try and pull him to where you really want him, canting your hips to lure him in, but Wooyoung is stubborn and resists. He groans in protest, only suckling harder at the sensitive, bruised patches of skin he’s created. Your legs fall open as far as they can go, lower lips parting for Wooyoung in invitation. You can’t wait, not a moment longer; so you hold on a little harder onto Wooyoung’s hair, nails grazing his scalp, and yank.

Instantly, Wooyoung’s breath stutters and his hips jerk forward, arms straining against his cuffs. “Fuck, fuck,” he whimpers, muffled against your cunt. You pull again, and he whines even louder. “That’s it, baby, take whatever you want. I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you everything, gonna be so good for you,” he babbles, brow scrunched in pleasure at your rough treatment of him.

His tongue darts out, lightly, like he plans to tease you again — but he curses at the slickness he finds, his last shred of restraint broken. He licks up a long, wet stripe up to your clit, whining against the sensitive nub when you shudder and moan, only more arousal gushing forth.

“All for me?” he rasps. “Fuck, I knew this would be a tasty pussy. Could tell just by looking at you. Not gonna waste a fucking drop, I can stay right here all night if I have to.”

San makes a sound of approval as Wooyoung finally begins to eat you out in earnest, but otherwise he stays quiet; remaining an observer to how Wooyoung rapidly dismantles your lucidity. San’s free hand drifts down to his cock, still hard from getting sucked off earlier.

“That’s enough,” he had told Wooyoung back then, pulling him off his cock before he came too close. “Go get your meal.”

Now San slowly fucks into his hand, sharp eyes watching with burning interest how Wooyoung gets lost between your thighs. Tongue delving deeper and deeper, thrusting inside your leaking cunt while his nose rubs up against your clit. You were right; the slope of his nose is perfect for grinding on, a fact you enthusiastically take advantage of.

With Wooyoung’s warm, eager mouth on your cunt, the pressure in your lower abdomen builds up almost embarrassingly fast. Your hips rock into him harder and his arms jerk in response, instinctively trying to use his restrained hands. You whimper, already balancing on the edge.

San, however, is not impressed with Wooyoung’s performance. “Think you can do more, Woo.” (More? Is he trying to kill you?) “That tongue is one of the few things you’re good for, I know you can do better with it. Really make her squirm.” (Fuck, he is trying to kill you. Fuck.)

Wooyoung lets out a choked, muffled groan against your cunt, vibrating through you.

“Then again… it has been a long time since you last had any pussy,” San continues, casual in his musing. “Might be out of practice. Do you even remember where to find her clit, hm? Or have you gotten that rusty?”

Immediately Wooyoung proves that he remembers exactly; switching from his vigorous tongue-fucking to sucking on your clit with equal aggression. You mewl at the sharp licks and suction, shaking as you fall back on your elbow, accidentally pulling hard on Wooyoung’s hair — but he revels in it, moaning louder between the obscenely noisy sounds of his lips and tongue dragging you to the brink.

“See? That’s better, isn’t it? There I almost thought you’re nothing but a cockslut but you are just as whipped for pussy, aren’t you?” San says, dispassionately, and Wooyoung almost sobs at his words.

(San can’t fool you though; maybe Wooyoung can’t see it, but you do see the way his hand speeds up around his hard length, thick beads of precum leaking from the flushed tip.)

“Does he feel good, baby? Is my little cockslut making you feel good?” San asks you, but words fail you, breath catching in your throat in a pathetic whine. Your back arches, pelvis pushing into Wooyoung’s mouth even as your hand pulls him in closer. “I suppose that is a yes,” San grins. “Wooyoung should thank you, for allowing him such a treat.”

Wooyoung groans between your thighs, but that is not enough for San.

“I said,” he growls, covering your hand in Wooyoung’s hair with his own, overpowering you to pull the redhead back, “Wooyoung should thank you.”

“A-ah! Thank you, thankyou,” Wooyoung keens, in a ravenous and desperate scramble to get his mouth back on you. “Please, I need more,” he whines, struggling against his cuffs, “need her to cum on my tongue, please, fuck, please, let me— I gotta—”

He almost falls forward when San suddenly releases him again, but Wooyoung does not miss a beat, right back to slurping at your juices.

Your vision starts to blur and for a moment you don’t understand why, until a tear escapes your lashes, trailing down your cheek. You blink the rest away, desperate to see; to see Wooyoung as he devours you, to see San as he gets himself off to the sight of Wooyoung getting you off.

That is where your eyes linger; your mind is growing hazy, your thoughts slow like syrup as Wooyoung takes apart your sanity. But your mouth waters at the sight of San’s hand around his hard cock, and one thought does come through loud and clear.

Although the conversation before all this had focused on you and Wooyoung, it’s not like you and San was taken off the table…

Even if you could just lend him a hand… or a mouth… or even your cunt, after Wooyoung has his fill. Maybe you’d be too sensitive by then, worn out from Wooyoung’s voracious worship of your pussy; you would flutter and throb around San’s thick length as he took you, but god it’d be worth every sweet ache.

It does not take San long to notice you, lost in a complete daze and openly checking him out. “You are greedy,” he says, grin sharpening. “You already have Wooyoung’s mouth, you want my cock too?” He licks his lips. “Maybe next time, hm? Let Wooyoung have his fun now.”

Next time.

The promise courses through you like fire, right down to your weeping cunt — where Wooyoung twitches at the realisation that your attention has drifted to San instead of him. His mouth detaches from your clit with a wet noise, and he bites at your thigh, harder than before.

“Ah—!” You hiss at the sudden sting, and roughly pull at Wooyoung’s hair without even thinking, forcing him back to where you need him. “D-don’t stop, fuck, don’t—”

Wooyoung groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head. He does not stop, not this time, satisfied to have your full attention back. You struggle to gasp for breath, scrambling to hold Wooyoung in place when his nose bumps against your clit just right; and he is all too happy to let you grind against him, enthusiastically thrusting his tongue in your cunt.

“That’s right,” he grunts between thrusts. “Use me, that’s what I’m here for. Break my fucking nose if you want, I don’t fucking care. Wanna taste how you cream right on my tongue, c’mon, baby, come on.”

You can’t do anything but grant his request. You dangled at the edge for so long, the fall is hard when you finally tip over, electricity surging through you. Your thighs tremble as they lock around Wooyoung’s head, toes curling as they dig into his back. You cum with a strangled sob, helplessly falling back onto the bed, hips still undulating to chase the sparks that course all the way through every nerve ending in your body.

Wooyoung curses as he laps at you, making good on all his promises not to waste a single drop. He stays on you for what feels like forever, until the high of your orgasm tilts over into needling oversensitivity. He ignores the way you begin to squirm and whine, forcing you to physically push him away. Still he groans in protest, not wanting to part with your cunt just yet.

“Sit on my face,” he gasps, the words slurred. “I’m not done here, please, wanna feel you, wanna drown in that wet pussy, ride my fucking face until I can’t breathe, please, fuck please.”

Your cunt is still twitching from the aftershocks, yet there is not even a moment’s doubt in your mind. “Yes, fuck,” you say breathlessly, then look up to lock eyes with San. “Don’t you dare shut this one down,” you threaten, only half-joking. You will not have a repeat from last time.

San’s dominant front cracks at the dead-serious expression on your face, forcing him to stifle a laugh. “Alright, alright, I won’t dare,” he grins. “You know what? I’ll even give Wooyoung a little reward.”

He crouches down to undo the leather cuffs, and you startle when Wooyoung immediately lunges forward to grab two handfuls of your sides and yanks you towards him. His tongue drags across your sensitive folds for one more swipe, drawing a long whine from you, and only then does he let you scoot back. The expression on his face is dark, an unhinged shadow hiding behind the glitter of his eyes; Wooyoung is nowhere near done with you yet.

It takes a moment of shuffling around, but soon you have discarded your robe and Wooyoung is lying flat on the bed, where his hands make up for lost time as he grabs and kneads at your thighs and waist, impatiently pulling you further up from his chest to where he really wants you.

You move slowly, not to tease Wooyoung, but because you are still shaky from earlier — and San’s hand on the small of your back does not help. It is a relatively innocent gesture; San is only helping you to stay balanced, but the warmth of his large palm and slight coarseness of his fingertips is incredibly distracting.

You can’t linger for too long on thoughts of how his hand might feel on different parts of your body; Wooyoung is ready and waiting. His eyes peek up from underneath you with a bright glint, his fingers digging encouragingly into your legs.

“Go as hard as you want,” he purrs, rubbing his nose through your soaked folds. “Just enjoy the ride. I know I will.”

And with that, Wooyoung is right back on you like he never left. No teasing this time, no drawn-out bites at your thighs. Just his hungry mouth on your cunt, where you can feel his grin.

You hiss out a curse when he starts to whip his head up and down, and you grab onto your knees to brace yourself. This position lets you move more freely than before and Wooyoung smoothly coaxes you into a steady rhythm, your breath coming in small moans and sharp gasps.

Somehow it’s all more intense this way, more exposed. You are extremely aware of San’s eyes on you, watching how your chest heaves, how your thighs clench with the effort to fuck yourself on Wooyoung’s face. Wooyoung is even noisier now, every groan shooting right through you, his tongue leading your pace as he eats you out, forever insatiable. Like a man trying to quench his thirst with seawater, every drop of your juices only rousing Wooyoung’s appetite further.

Your eyes clench shut, still sensitive from before but also unable to stop from seeking out more. Wooyoung groans against you, spurred on by your need of him. You vaguely hear San shuffle around but you are too focused on trying to keep pace, on not collapsing against Wooyoung completely as rekindled tendrils of hot pleasure weave through your veins.

You jolt when a new hand suddenly touches your waist, but then another joins in to steady you. Your eyes fly open and turn your head, only to see San right behind you. He has taken off his sweats, now entirely naked, and there is a distinct hardness poking at your back.

“Relax,” he says, and runs a soothing hand up and down your side as he presses up against you, chest flush against your back.

You do relax; San is warm and solid behind you, a strong reassuring presence, and his soothing touch perfect for melting into. With a soft shudder you sink into his broad chest, the messy swirl of your hips stabilising to a languid roll now that San has his arms wrapped around you.

“There you go,” San murmurs, kissing your shoulder. One of his hands stays on your waist, keeping you steady, but the other traverses up to palm your breast, thumb teasing at your nipple. “Comfortable?”

“Mm,” you sigh out, starting to feel a little dazed. The world slows down around you, zooming in on just this moment, this place, with your fingers sliding into Wooyoung’s hair while San presses his lips to your shoulder again, firmer this time. Your back arches when he squeezes your breast, and your ass pushes back — right against his thick, hard cock.

San sucks in a sharp breath, surging forward when you moan encouragingly. Moving against you in an unhurried but persistent rut, inadvertently setting the pace of Wooyoung mouthing at your leaking cunt.

Like before, Wooyoung does not agree with having your attention divided. He huffs an audible breath, redoubling his efforts — something you had not thought possible. His loud moans have to be on purpose, the vibrations like shockwaves to your nervous system, and he nudges his head forward with every roll of your hips, dragging his nose against your clit at a toe-curling angle.

You whine and shudder, shakily clinging tighter onto San. He is all too eager to provide you an anchor, leisurely biting and sucking at your neck while he plays with your tits, alternating between them. He is slow and thorough with his touches, with his open-mouthed kisses, his restraint a dizzying contrast to the desperate, sloppy mess that Wooyoung is making.

The way you cling tighter onto San inflames Wooyoung’s efforts all over again. With a sob, you scramble to grab onto San’s shoulder, nails digging in to stay upright while Wooyoung eats you out like a starved animal. San hisses, hips bucking in approval, and Wooyoung groans against you in response.

You are drowning and floating all at once, trapped in an unending feedback loop of pleasure. It does not take long for you to fall apart, helplessly gyrating between their two bodies; the steadiness of San’s strong hold and his dick fitted snugly between your ass cheeks; the unhinged frenzy of Wooyoung’s mouth. You cry out as you cum again, harder than the last time — and again, Wooyoung does not let up, eagerly lapping at your release.

“F-fuck, Wooyoung…” you whine, pulling at his hair. But you do not pull him away, letting him savour you while you ride out your high, prolonged by every greedy swipe of his tongue.

San curses lowly, his hand leaving your breast to reach down, down. “Wanna feel…” he grunts, pressing his hips harder against your ass. “Such a good girl for us, let me feel what a mess you made…”

You can’t help but whimper in response to the pet name, and San’s teeth scrape against your neck between kisses.

Finally San’s hand reaches your cunt, bumping into Wooyoung’s nose when two fingers slide through your sodden folds — but you can’t enjoy his touch for long… not when Wooyoung bites at San’s thumb, hard enough to leave a mark.

San grunts roughly as he snatches his hand back, his mouth detaching from the column of your neck.

“Mine,” Wooyoung mumbles, and there is a dark, possessive glint in his eyes as he nuzzles at your clit. “This pussy’s all mine today.” He goes back to suctioning his lips around the swollen nub like nothing happened, but San’s face hardens.

“Nobody taught you how to share, Woo?” he asks sharply, but Wooyoung ignores him completely; a clear answer all the same. “Fine. If you want to be like that, it can be like that.”

San tips your chin up with his bitten hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek that is at odds with the storm brewing in his eyes. “You did so well,” he praises you, almost in accusation towards Wooyoung. “You can go for a little longer, can’t you? I’ll be right here.”

He starts to move away, a realisation that jolts through you with alarm. Trapped in a foggy daze, you instinctively whine and grab onto San, unwilling to untangle from him, destabilised without his arms around you. San’s eyes widen just slightly at your desperation to stay attached.

“What’s this, can’t go a moment without me?” he teases, pressing a few more kisses in the crook of your shoulder. “I won’t be far — how about we turn you around, hm? Let you watch while I handle Wooyoung.”

(Wooyoung grunts at the mention of his name, but it is a suspiciously excited sound.)

Watch San? Be the rapt audience to whatever he is planning? The thought sparks excitement, enough to blunt the edge off your needy desperation. Shakily, you nod your head. “Y-yeah. I want to watch.”

“Good girl,” he smiles, patting your ass. He starts to move again, and this time you let him.

You expected Wooyoung to protest when San helps lift you off his face, but he tentatively allows you to part from him long enough to turn around. It gives you time to take the sharpest edge off your overly sensitive body; especially when Wooyoung’s hands rub up and down your thighs once you’re settled back down. You can’t be sure if it’s intentional, but the light drag of his fingernails is strangely soothing, avoiding the patches of skin he marked so aggressively.

San is still right there, tipping up your chin to meet his eyes. “Just watch me, okay?” he reminds you, his gaze intent.

You hum in acknowledgement, sinking back into a feverish haze as Wooyoung descends on you once again. The angles are different like this, and he kisses at your clit with wet noises, flicking his tongue in a rapid, tight pattern that has you fighting for breath, while his nose nudges shallowly at your entrance.

And right in front of you, you can see how San lifts Wooyoung’s hips so he can strip off his boxers, where a dark stain is clearly visible in the crotch. Wooyoung’s dick smacks wetly against his stomach, so hard and flushed that it looks painful — just from eating you out, neglected all this time.

“Now,” San says in a low, clipped voice, “you’re real damn lucky, Woo. Need you to make our sweet girl feel good, so a proper punishment will have to wait for later. For now… you want her all to yourself so bad? Let’s give you some extra incentive to do what you’re good for.”

He sits across Wooyoung’s thighs, one leg on each side, and wraps one hand tightly around the base of Wooyoung’s leaking cock. Wooyoung whines, trying to move his hips but San has him pinned down. Your breath catches in a sharp moan as you watch wide-eyed how San rocks forward, using his free hand to rub his own hard length up against Wooyoung’s.

Entranced, you stare at how the two cocks slide against each other, precum mingling. Wooyoung’s is long with pretty veins, whereas San’s is more of a blunt instrument, thicker with just a slight curve — both equally mouth-watering in their own way. (“Next time,” San had promised you.)

Wooyoung groans a curse against you, his whines loud even muffled by your wet heat. Your hips swirl harder in response, and you moan wantonly as his pleasure reverberates through you — and his frustration too.

Because San is coldly calculated with his strokes, always careful to make sure Wooyoung is just shy of that final edge he needs.

“F-fuck, San, are—” Wooyoung whimpers when he catches on, his fingers digging harder into your thighs. “Are you—”

“You’re not cumming until she does.”

“She already—!”

“Again,” San cuts in, squeezing the base of Wooyoung’s cock tighter. He makes a noise of disappointment. “Going on and on about drowning in that sweet pussy, but it’s all forgotten the moment your own pleasure is on the line. Selfish, Woo. Is that all you really care about? Blowing your own load?”

You moan weakly, hips shifting against Wooyoung’s tight hold, trying to find his mouth again — and that is what snaps Wooyoung back into it.

“Fuck, don’t you listen to Sannie,” he groans, and sharply sucks at your clit with a lewd sound. “No way I’d forget about you.”

You can’t even be sure whether he’s talking to you or your cunt, and with the way he tongues at the latter? Who the fuck even cares? He can sing a whole damn serenade to your pussy every day of the week if he wants, recite poetry the whole night through; either way, you get everything your body craves for.

Well… Your eyes drift back to San.

Maybe not everything.

The thought crosses your mind, exactly when you are also struck by a distinct advantage to this position; all you have to do is lean forward to press your palms against Wooyoung’s chest, his dark nipples pebbled invitingly. He groans when you scratch lightly across his skin, his hot breath shuddering against your clit. You are tempted to keep going but…

But Wooyoung did deprive you of San’s firm body pressed flush against yours, and his slow, dedicated kisses. Maybe you should not forgive Wooyoung that part so quickly.

Maybe… maybe you feel a little mean right now.

(And a memory of one of Wooyoung’s kinks floats up into your mind, giving you the perfect outlet.)

“Hngh!”

Futilely, Wooyoung’s hips jerk upwards against San’s weight when you pinch at his nipple.

“Oh?” San grins, lips curling in approval. “Looks like someone agrees you deserve a little punishment, Woo. You made her very unhappy.”

Wooyoung moans loudly at the sting, his back arching into your touch. Suckling harder at your cunt, like he is only spurred on by the pain. “She won’t be unhappy for long,” he groans lowly, almost inaudible from underneath you. “Not after I’m done with her.”

Still, his noises get more and more desperate as San continues to edge him, mewling every time you tease at his flushed chest and play with his sensitive nipples. He groans in frustration every time you shift your hips in a way that breaks his rhythm, refusing to let him make you cum just to draw out his torment.

But despite his undeterred enthusiasm, eager to rise the challenge, you hesitate when his moans get just a little weaker. He starts to sound tired, and instead of grinding into him, you instinctively try to shift away out of genuine concern for his oxygen supply.

Wooyoung gives you no chance, yanking you back. “Stay right the fuck here,” he growls.

“Wooyoung, you’re— I don’t want to—”

His teeth sink into your inner thigh, warning you not to move an inch. “I’ll tap out when it’s too much,” he gasps against you. “Promise. Don’t you fucking move — you’re close, aren’t you? Fuck, I can tell, you’re so fucking wet, dripping all over my face. Just let me finish you off, hm? Sit back down, want you right here when you cum. I’ll have you creaming on my tongue in no time, just let me—”

It’s like Wooyoung is hit by some kind of second wind. Immediately he puts proof to promises, introducing his thumb to your clit. Working the digit in perfect tandem with his clever tongue, luring you back into rocking your hips in tune with his fanatical pace.

“Fuck,” you gasp, jaw falling slack. Shit, message received. Wooyoung is fine, no need to worry about him, not when you are the one whimpering and struggling to stay upright.

Your thighs tremble almost painfully; you try to hold out, to keep drawing out Wooyoung’s denial for as long as you can, but deep down you already know you won’t last. Your cunt clenches with every sweeping lick of pleasure that Wooyoung sends through it, a fire stoked by the view in front of you.

San’s teeth are gritted, a drop of sweat running down his temple. His rhythm is less controlled by now, slowly devolving into a mindless rut against Wooyoung’s twitching cock. The slick sound of skin against skin is almost as loud as Wooyoung’s mouth between your legs, and the coil inside you tightens and tightens, inevitable no matter how hard you try to scramble away from the edge. You give into it; your resolve to tease Wooyoung any longer is overriden by your own desperation for release.

You speed up your hips, grinding into Wooyoung while bracing yourself on his chest. He moans when you thumb at his nipples again, his pelvis bucking against San. The motion draws your eyes back to San’s hand; not large enough to wrap around two cocks at once but enough to guide his movements as he jerks himself off against Wooyoung.

San notices you watching, and gnaws at his bottom lip as it curves into a grin. “Look at you, you greedy thing,” he says. “Came twice and still want more, don’t you? Tell me what you need, hm?”

“Wanna watch you cum,” you blurt out without even thinking, “please. Wanna see…”

He sucks in a breath. “Anything you want, baby,” San promises, and he releases Wooyoung’s cock, who whines so loud you can’t tell if it’s relief or desperation. San strokes himself with purpose, his thumb playing against his leaking slit, and it only takes a few expert twists of his fist before he groans, pained bliss contorting his face.

Long ropes of cum spill across Wooyoung’s stomach, even a few spurts all the way up to his chest, and his whines morph into a low moan as the hot seed hits his skin. He squirms when San lazily gathers some on his fingers, spreading the sticky whiteness around.

Then San lifts his hand and offers his glistening fingers to you, an offer you eagerly accept.

“Oh? Wooyoung isn’t the only hungry one, I see,” San teases when you messily slurp around his fingers, swirling your tongue to get a proper taste of him.

You can only moan in response; another high builds up inside your aching, sensitive cunt, climbing and climbing. It is gradual but unstoppable, drawn forth by Wooyoung’s persuasive fingers and insatiable tongue. You scramble for something to hold onto — and find Wooyoung’s hand. He grabs onto you, your fingers intertwined while his other thumb presses against your clit with dogged persistence. Pressure mounts, deep inside your throbbing cunt, until you shatter under its weight.

Your broken sobs are muffled by San’s fingers, drool spilling past your lips and onto your chin. San watches you, fixated on your pleasure, intensifying the depth of your climax. A hot wet release spews out from your core, wrenched from deep inside you, and Wooyoung moans in unexpected delight as you gush onto his waiting tongue. This time Wooyoung does take it easier on your trembling body, languid strokes of his tongue as he has his fill of you. He coaxes out as much as he can, until you are shuddering and spent above him.

San slides his fingers from your mouth when you quiet down, then helps you lift yourself off Wooyoung to slump onto the bed. Gently, San puts a hand on your neck to tip up your chin, and there is a proud gleam in his eyes while he brushes his thumb just underneath your jaw.

“I think Wooyoung did enough to prove himself, don’t you?” he murmurs, patting Wooyoung’s thigh. “Do you want to keep watching, or help me out with him?”

“Hm, help,” you sigh, without hesitation. Wooyoung makes a needy sound in response, and you turn to look at him.

He is a mess, swollen lips parted as he pants for breath. His nose and lower half of his face glazed with your juices, while his hair and forehead are matted with sweat. His eyes are unfocused, his hand still clenched tightly around yours. But he chuckles weakly when he sees you take in his dishevelled state.

“Yeah?” he asks with a tired grin, a glint returning to his eyes. “Made you feel good?”

Rather than give your answer in words, you hold eye-contact with Wooyoung as you bend forward. His cock is flushed dark and achingly hot in your hand, and Wooyoung whimpers a soft sob when you press a kiss on the leaking tip. Neglected and then edged, Wooyoung squirms at even the lightest touch, his breath hitching as tears quickly begin to form in his eyes.

You take mercy on him, sinking down on him with your mouth, relishing his snivelled moan when you hollow your cheeks. His nails dig into your hand and his hips jerk upward — but San is still there, pinning him down. Leaving Wooyoung with no choice but to writhe helplessly while you take him deeper until he nudges at your gag reflex, where you swallow around his cockhead.

“Ahhhhh fuck fuck fuck,” Wooyoung hisses, stuttering a long string of curses, interjected by whiny calls of your name. It does not take any time at all before thick tears roll down his cheeks, his voice caught in a choked up cry when he finally cums, convulsing under San’s strong hands. Heat sparks in your lower abdomen at the sight of Wooyoung’s wretched state, even with your body as worn out as it is, and you moan contentedly as his hot seed hits your throat.

Eagerly, you swallow it down as much as you can. A little bit spills past your lips, dribbling down your chin, but San is happy to wipe it up with a thumb and suck it off himself.

Wooyoung starts to push at you, his release quickly tilting over to overstimulation, and again you take mercy. With a decadent smack, you detach your lips from his cock, still half-hard and glistening.

The look in Wooyoung’s hazy eyes as he stares up at you is pure reverence, and he tugs at you to come lay down by his side.

You don’t fight it, a sudden wave of exhaustion hitting you all at once now that everyone has had their dues. So you let Wooyoung cuddle up to you as you lie on your back, his arm and leg thrown across your body.

“You’re fucking incredible, you know that?” Wooyoung mumbles into your shoulder. “Abso-fucking-lutely spectacular.”

“And you are still drunk on pussy,” you giggle, but the praise warms your skin nonetheless.

“Hm. Maybe,” he says. “Doesn’t change facts.”

San chuckles fondly and runs an affectionate hand through Wooyoung’s sweaty hair. “You alright? Both of you?”

Wooyoung lifts his head up to look at San, like the stars are hung in his eyes. “You’re incredible too,” he grins, and you nod staunchly, humming your agreement.

You swear San’s smile turns shy, though he shakes his head like he’s dealing with a pair of incorrigible scamps. “That’s not what I asked, and you know it.”

“’m fine,” Wooyoung says. “Fucking amazing. Gimmi a minute and I can run a marathon.”

“Sure you can,” San indulges him, giving you a quick wink. He gets a washcloth to clean you up, mindful to ask permission first even though you’d given the okay beforehand. The okay still stands; especially with the pleasant ache that has spread through your body, making you loathe to even move an inch.

“God, I’m going to be sore tomorrow,” you groan, wincing despite how careful San is while dabbing at your thighs, bruised from Wooyoung’s… enthusiastic worship. “You’re a damn menace,” you mumble at Wooyoung, who just grins cheekily at you.

“Yep,” he agrees proudly.

San sighs and shakes his head. “Seriously, you really do have a sharp set of teeth on you, Woo. I still can’t believe you bit me like that,” he pouts, lifting up his thumb to show off the faded indents.

Wooyoung’s eyes widen. “Oh shit, was it that hard? Sorry sorry. Got carried away,” he laughs awkwardly, taking San’s thumb to press a light apologetic kiss on the mark. Then his grin returns, bold and mischievous, “But uh, didn’t you say something about a proper punishment?”

San rolls his eyes, and leans forward to land a soft bite right on the top of Wooyoung’s head in retaliation. “Really? You’re saying you’re good to go again?” he asks incredulously, and Wooyoung just shrugs. He really did bounce back quickly this time, almost as energetic again as he was at the start.

“How about you?” San asks, returning to his task of cleaning you up.

God, these two men really are committed to proving they’ll be the death of you, aren’t they? “Give me a minute and I’m good… to watch,” you say, finding a compromise between your depleted body and the interest sparked between your sore, aching thighs.

But San’s moping over Wooyoung’s bite has you thinking; both of them have adapted so smoothly to this new avenue in their sex lives. At no point have you ever detected any jealousy about adding a third person in the bedroom; the only act of possessiveness had been about you. Meanwhile, both San and Wooyoung appear perfectly comfortable to be shared.

“Have you guys ever done something like this before? Threesomes?” you ask curiously. You do know that the voyeurism aspect was new to Wooyoung, but maybe he’s had other experiences?

“San has,” Wooyoung says, tracing absent-minded circles around a bite he left on your stomach.

“Oh?”

San shrugs his shoulders. “I teamed up a few times with a friend, back when I was more active in the BDSM community. Domming together. It’s been a while though.”

“Oh?” Now there certainly is an interesting image.

“I was in an open relationship before,” Wooyoung chimes in again, before you have a chance to get nosy about San’s friend, “but things never, you know, overlapped. Not like this.”

‘Not like this’?

But… what is this?

You can’t help it; you tense up. Wooyoung said ‘relationship’; a word with a broad variety of meanings, with many potential layers to it — but most people narrow it down to one specific kind, especially in connection to sex.

How do San and Wooyoung see this one, with you?

You remember it clearly, the first time you heard of the term ‘aromantic’; it was like a gear clicking into place. It brought clarity to what always felt like a gap between you and the majority of people around you. The solution to a strange mystery of misunderstandings.

You like San and Wooyoung very much, you really do. There is a connection that isn’t contained to a casual hook-up. But depending on what expectations they have, now or in the future, you might not match those — and that makes you a little fidgety. It’s not a failing on your part, you know that, but other people don’t always see it that way.

San notices that you’re sinking away in your own thoughts, and gently nudges you back into his bedroom, back to him and Wooyoung. “Hey. Tell me what’s happening.”

You hesitate, a little embarrassed about how presumptuous some of those thoughts are. For all you know, they don’t think about you like that at all — and maybe never will. All your worries could be completely unnecessary. “Yeah no, it’s not…”

‘Not important’ you are about to say, but you swallow down the words. San always encourages you to be open about boundaries; he has to mean those in a non-sexual context as well, right?

“Okay,” you say, sitting up straight to gather yourself. “So, I really don’t want to make assumptions about how you guys see this going forward, but if this” — you vaguely gesture to the messy sheets on the bed — “becomes a regular thing, then maybe we should talk about some ground rules outside the bedroom too.”

“Yeah, of course,” San says, brow furrowed lightly. He immediately takes it as seriously as you suspected he would, but you still feel a relieved lightness in your chest to have it confirmed.

Wooyoung sits up as well, curious for what else you have to say. “Sure, makes sense,” he says; another confirmation that this is a safe space, and that you are in safe hands. You take a breath, and continue on.

[wanpakupaku]

By the way, you had shared koda's "staying" track in one of your posts. Also, while reading the 9th chapter of "intimacy," you had suggested listening to Hozier's "movement." I liked both. You have a good taste in music. Anyway, that's enough sentimentality for now. While I have my dinner, I'll be watching your movie recommendation, "Cloud Atlas." You might want to reconsider sending those nudes :) I just like to remind that in case of you forget :)

well, koda's song was a nod to an old lover(?). it was our song i guess? it was a decade old game of rejecting in turns, and the last time he reached out, i shut it off. bcuz like, i was done. and then i randomly remembered him and like, wanted to talk about him without talking abt him? the era of sharing music to send msgs is not over. i might be 28 next month but the teenager in me is alive and well fed.

and "movement" jfc the moment i heard that song. i was in a trance. for two weeks, i listened nothing else but that song and one of my friends wrote to me: " i think ur spotify is glitching" and i was like "no, its not." and then i couldnt stop listening to it until i was done w that chapter lol.

had a similar episode with grimes' "4 am". when it first came out i listened nothing but that for around two weeks again.

i mean, bcuz its my music taste, its the best taste for me. but nowadays im in my ashnikko era mostly. or nothing but thieves. but if u want moving, incredible, showstopping, original work i can advise u a symphony rock (?) album about sheherazade and other tales :3c

i will never post nudes as long as ur asking for them so directly. i dont need beggars, baby girl. i already have those. but ty for ur attention.