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startanewdream · 3 years ago

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The road home

Summary: Lily watches Harry and Ginny finding their way back to each other following the end of the war.

Note: For @madhulika18, who asked for more Hinny moments as seen by James and Lily. I could never decide if this is really part of Eyes Glistening (because Harry and Ginny have drama really, and I don't like them having drama), but it works either way, so I hope you enjoy these moments (also, I have a soft spot for Lily and Harry talking, so...)

_______

It’s all about the words that aren’t being said.

Once, a long time ago, Lily lived that with James. But it was different and, though, of course, it didn’t seem like that at the time, it was easier too. Her problems were unknowing her feelings, not understanding why she enjoyed his company and why she craved his smile, his light. She had fancied him for a long time before she understood what it was what she really felt for him — and until then it was only her heart beating faster when they would touch each other without meaning too (a brush of hands, sitting together closer than necessary), enjoying the perfume he’d left on his trace, finding excuses to be with him.

But after she had understood what she felt for him, somehow it had been easy. Awkward, sure, that first date when she was feeling stupid near him — until she remembered this was James, and being with him was good and blissful and then kissing him had felt as natural as breathing —, but there was never a question about how they felt about each other, never doubts that they would be together.

They had fought over many things, until they perfected the art of compromising, of understanding each other’s view, but there was never a breakup, never something that really kept them apart.

They are lucky on this, she knows.

Especially when she sees the look on Harry’s face, the way his eyes can’t help but follow Ginny as she walks around between the tables of the Great Hall, stopping to share words with her friends.

They haven’t talked yet. Lily knows this because Harry was gone with Ron and Hermione after the battle and then he slept for a full day. When he woke up, he called his parents and they talked then — the most difficult conversation Lily had ever had in her life and the one she knew she needed most. She and James. They needed to understand what had happened, why it had cost Harry’s life and what it had meant, but nothing had really prepared her to know her son had died.

Only the thought of it sends shivers through her body.

Harry is fine now, having come down to the Great Hall to lunch; there are fewer people at Hogwarts two days after the Battle, so they manage to find a place for them to sit quietly. It’s almost peaceful.

Except Harry is clearly not at peace.

‘Go talk to her,’ she whispers to him, and Harry turns to her with those eyes that are full of ghosts lately — he has seen and lived and died too much.

‘She doesn’t want me,’ he answers, breathing heavily as if the words are physically hurting him.

‘How do you know?’ James asks, exchanging a confused look with Lily.

‘Because she hasn’t come to talk to me.’

Lily thinks Harry didn’t go to her either, so maybe this is just a case of miscommunication. But she doesn’t say anything, because she believes things have to happen at the right time. And she has been watching Ginny too; every time Harry looks the other way, she glances in his direction, an expression on her face that Lily cannot understand exactly.

It seems to be ablaze.

_______

Later, Lily will define it as a dance where the dancers aren’t supposed to touch each other but still they synchronize their steps perfectly.

It’s unnerving, really, and she doesn’t know how they are really managing it, but if there is a quality she could attribute to both Harry and Ginny is stubbornness.

They can’t ignore each other, not really, not with how much they encounter each other — funerals and homages and dinners over the Burrow and rebuilding Hogwarts —, so instead they adopt a sort of relationship that’s just a shadow of how much they got along together.

Lily saw them before they even dated or had acknowledged their feelings for each other, and Harry and Ginny had shined together with chemistry as if they were two ingredients in a potion that demanded to be together. It was only friendship but there was sparkle and understanding and compassion and brightness. Lily remembers thinking that even if they didn’t develop romantic feelings for each other, they were truly soulmates.

And this is just one of the reasons why their current formal courtesy with each other bothers her so much. If they wanted to be only friends, there wasn’t much she could do. But they are not even friends lately, just two people who had gone through so much and hadn’t been able to share anything with each other despite wanting very much.

That’s the other thing that annoys her. They want more. Both of them.

She knows Harry, of course — he shares the same expressions and he wears his feelings on the same sleeve Lily does, so it’s easy —, and Lily likes to think she knows Ginny too, for the times they met, for all they’ve talked and for the fact that Ginny is usually blatant on her feelings when they are at the edge.

Usually. This time, it seems their stubbornness is getting the better of both of them.

They are alone most of the days of May. Hermione has gone to Australia to find her parents and Ron went with her, and Lily thinks this would be perfect for them to get together again – to have time to talk and to truly live their relationship without the threat of a storm above their heads.

But they don’t go to each other. They stay apart, even though Lily sees the cracks in their stubbornness when Harry breaks a glass after hearing Ginny talking about exchanging letters with an ex-boyfriend, and when Ginny suddenly leaves the room after Harry mentions Kingsley’s proposal to start the Aurors course.

James sees it too. He is always frowning when they are in the same room, and Lily knows no one rooted more for that relationship than James. So she is not surprised that he approaches her one morning when they are cleaning the mess the Death Eaters made in her office.

‘Do you remember when you forbade me from intervening in Harry’s love life?’ he asks in a nonchalant voice, cleaning a stain that looks a lot like blood on the carpet.

Lily nods with her head.

‘Maybe it’s time to change that rule?’ James asks then, now sounding hopeful.

Lily throws him the briefest of the looks, without turning away her attention from the cauldrons she is supposed to check if anything is worth saving.

‘Harry would hate it if we did anything.’

‘Harry would hate it if he knew we were doing anything.’

‘And James Potter can be discreet? How many detentions did you get just because you couldn’t help but flaunt your work?’

He raises his eyebrows challengingly.

‘That Slug Club dinner on my birthday. I was so discreet no one ever found out what we were doing.’

Lily blushes. He was absurdly quiet that night, indeed, despite her attempts otherwise.

‘Fine, you’ve got a point. Go on, but I’m warning you, if Ginny realizes what you are trying to do, she will hex you and I won’t stop.’

‘As long as she hexes me on their wedding day, I won’t complain,’ James says unabashedly, and Lily has to grin.

She is not feeling much confident — James’ love plans took him three years to her agree to date him, after all, and even then she had fallen in love with him when he had given up on any plan at all —, but she can’t deny James is creative and it’s better trying anything than watching Harry sigh all over the place, heartbroken and unhappy.

During the year they were out, their house has been searched over and over; their furniture is broken and there are spots of red ink — or blood — in every room, with curses or slurs written on every wall. They could just easily destroy the house and build a new one, but it feels good to clean the place; it feels like a new beginning.

Maybe this is what James is hoping to give Harry and Ginny because he asks for her help in rebuilding their house. Ginny accepts surprisingly quickly, probably guessing that Harry will still be occupied with the work at Hogwarts.

‘Thanks for the help,’ Lily says after she and Ginny manage to clean the debris away from the stairs, so now the first floor is available for them to start cleaning up the rooms.

‘No problem, it’s good to be out of the house,’ Ginny notes, drying the sweat on her face. ‘Sometimes it feels… too claustrophobic there.’

Lily raises her eyebrows, indicating around the hall, where the number of things still to be organized makes the corridor seem a lot smaller than it is. Ginny gives a small chuckle.

‘It’s just — Mom is trying to compensate, I think. Ron is not here and I am the youngest and she needs to take care of something, after — after everything that happened. So, yeah, I need some time to myself.’

‘Are you sure there is nothing else you would like to do?’ Lily asks, concerned now. Ginny just shrugs.

‘Since I can’t fly, this seems like the best available option,’ she says. ‘And it feels good to be doing something — and there is so much to do here. The Death Eaters made a mess.’

‘That could be said for everywhere.’

‘And everyone,’ Ginny adds softly, and she returns to the cabinet she is trying to fix without saying anything further, but Lily doesn’t think she needs to. She saw Neville’s bruises, she saw Luna’s scars and she has a pretty good idea of how it was at Hogwarts under Voldemort’s regime.

But Ginny keeps her marks quietly, and Lily knows there is only one person she will be able to talk to.

The next day, James comes home earlier from Hogwarts with Harry. There is an awkward moment when Harry and Ginny meet in the kitchen and James mentions that now the main work over Hogwarts is done, Harry volunteered to help get his home back again.

‘Any problem?’ James asks genially, making both Harry and Ginny jump.

‘No,’ they say at the same time, and it doesn’t convince anyone.

Lily never noticed how big their house was until she realizes Harry and Ginny still manage to avoid each other except during mealtimes, so she decides they can get past subtlety. She and James start to ask them for help for the same rooms until they eventually are paired in the same tasks.

She doesn’t hear them talking, but it seems to work, albeit at the slowest pace ever.

‘You won’t believe who asked Sirius for an interview,’ James says one night after they settled for the day and they are having dinner before Ginny returns to her house. ‘Rita Skeeter.’

‘What scoop does she want now?’ Harry asks, rolling his eyes. ‘I am still awaiting her biography about me.’

‘What will be called?’, Ginny asks, and Harry turns to her with his eyes already shining with the joke.

‘Easy. Harry Potter, chosen or undesirable one?’

She laughs – it’s a short tentative laugh, but it’s there, and Harry smiles too. James exchanges a look with Lily, but she shakes her head warningly to him.

‘What Skeeter wanted with Sirius?’ she asks, putting the conversation back into place. It was just a shared joke. There is still a long road ahead.

‘Oh, gossip on you and me, actually, which unfortunately is something Sirius thinks it’s too funny to pass – and also he has a soft spot for Skeeter.’

Harry chokes on his drink.

‘Soft spot?’

‘Oh, please, don’t tell me –‘ Ginny raises her eyebrows, exchanging a bewildered look with Harry. ‘Sirius and Rita Skeeter?’

James chuckles.

‘No, he just likes her because of the animagus stuff. He says he can’t fault her for being one.’

‘Oh, much better,’ Ginny sighs. Then she bits her lip before looking back at Harry. ‘Can you imagine them together? Rita Skeeter as your godmother?’

‘I would have to quit Sirius from his job as godfather,’ Harry says, pretending to gag. ‘He would clearly be underqualified.’

There is another small giggle and that’s it for the night.

They are talking again at least, even if it is still not like it used to be. There are no whispered words during their time together during the day and they don’t seem to be secretly snogging. But they talk sometimes, and once or twice Lily hears a laugh when she passes the room they are in.

But it’s only two weeks later that something seems to happen.

Lily is in her room, finishing to set up the bed so she and James will finally be able to sleep there, when the voices catch her up on her window.

‘You are bleeding.’

‘It’s just a cut, Harry, no big deal.’

‘It was a splinter, there can still be something there.’

‘I told you, I took everything off. I will just press it, it will stop bleeding in a minute.’

‘I can help you, I – I know a lot of healing spells.’

There is a pause.

‘Me too, but I also know that the bleeding will stop. It’s not deep.’

‘How do you –‘

‘Same way you know, Harry.’ There is a note of tension in Ginny’s voice. ‘I had to learn.’

‘Ginny –‘

‘What? Do you think you were the only one who had a hard time?’

And she storms inside, giving him no time to answer.

Harry is subdued that night, even more reserved than natural, and when she passes his room late at night, she sees the light is on. For a second Lily wonders if she should call James, but then she sighs and knocks on his door.

‘Harry?’

In answer, the door opens quietly. Lily enters his room to see Harry fully clothed on his bed; he is holding something and, with a start, she realizes it’s the Marauder’s Map. That’s a weird thing for Harry to be consulting in the middle of the night.

‘Can’t sleep?’ she asks, sitting on the edge of his bed and running her hand through his hair comfortingly. He shrugs. ‘Anything to do with that fight with Ginny?’

He raises his eyebrows.

‘Hearing behind doors, Mum?’

‘No need, you were talking under my window.’

‘Next fight I will make sure we are far,’ he says with a grimace.

‘There will be a next fight?’

‘I don’t know,’ he admits, and this prospect doesn’t seem to make him better. ‘If I asked you something, would you be honest with me?’

‘Wasn’t I always, Harry?’

He smiles for a second before his expression is grave and uncertain.

‘Do you think I am self-centred?’

Lily blinks.

‘No one would accuse you of being selfish, Harry, I mean –’

She doesn’t know where to begin, considering all the sacrifices she had seen Harry make over the years — he gave his life —, but Harry shakes his head.

‘Not selfish, I mean – the summer after my fourth year, when Voldemort was back, I said plenty of things –’

‘You were under a lot of stress, no one –’

‘I know, but I was complaining about how everything happened to me and now I am thinking that maybe, somehow, I never stopped to think that things happen to other people too.’

Lily squeezes his hand.

‘It is not a suffering competition, Harry.’

‘I don’t know if I see it that way. I mean, when I saw Neville for the first time, with all his bruises and looking so hurt, I still wished it could be me, staying at Hogwarts and fighting because it seemed easier and it never occurred to me that she could – they could – have had a difficult time too. It still seemed… just school.’

He pauses to pick up the Marauder’s Map, opening it even if there is no map showing there.

‘I used to take the Map last year to watch over her,’ he whispers, his face flushing. ‘And I saw her dot and I never thought that she could be in trouble. I knew they were rebelling, but… it didn’t feel like it was something real.’

‘Well, that’s why you should talk to each other. None of you will understand if you keep avoiding each other.’

‘She is mad at me.’

‘Of course she is. You are avoiding her.’

He doesn’t answer.

‘You need to talk, Harry. Go there. Try it.’

He blinks, a hint of a smile on his lips.

‘Are you suggesting that I go visit my ex-girlfriend in the middle of the night?’

‘I’m pretty sure you will just talk if she doesn’t hex you first,’ Lily says brightly. Then she smiles softly. ‘You could wait until tomorrow, Harry, but I have the feeling you both have been waiting too long. And this isn’t any of your styles. You are both people of action.’

Harry grins now, standing up.

‘I will go then. Thanks for the tip, Mum.’

Lily accepts the soft kiss he gives her on the cheek.

‘Just be safe, Harry.’

_______

Harry seems to be in a better mood the next morning, despite the fact that he slept a few hours that night — Lily knows he returned by five, just as the sun was rising.

But she doesn’t say anything, just smiling to herself when Harry’s face lights up when the fireplace erupts into emerald flames and Ginny appears, dusting her clothes. They exchange a look that it’s still not there yet, but it’s soft and promising. James looks in her direction, surprised, and she promises to explain later.

It’s not Summer yet, but the days of May and then June get warmer and then Harry and Ginny are spending more time outside, though there isn’t much to fix there.

At least, not material things.

James keeps an eye on them — he wouldn’t resist not doing so —, telling her that most of the time they just seem to be taking long strolls and talking.

One day they return from their walk holding hands, and Lily has to lock James inside the room so he doesn’t say anything. Harry and Ginny are still not there.

The road home takes time.

On the second weekend of June they have the hottest day yet and they take some time off; James transfigures a pool in the backyard that neither Harry nor Ginny seems to enjoy other than to sit at the edge of the pool and take off their shoes to wet their feet. Instead of helping to ease any tension, the pool seems to create some weight over them, making them more silent than usual, so James suggests they go flying instead.

‘My Firebolt is gone,’ Harry remembers, wincing, and Lily knows it’s not the broomstick he is really missing right now. Harry lost a friend that day.

‘Mine was burnt by the Carrows last year,’ Ginny adds, her voice casual as if it’s nothing important.

They don’t end up doing anything after that.

In the afternoon, James gets a call from Sirius and Lily decides to just stay home, finishing the Wolfsbane Potions she will need to deliver to Remus by the end of the week. She is quietly lost in her favourite potion world when she hears the voices, and it’s just because they are whispering, rather than talking normally, that it draws her attention.

‘Are you sure?’ Ginny is asking, her voice unusually hesitant.

‘Only if you are,’ he whispers, sounding just as unstable.

Lily approaches the window and withdraws the curtains as little as she needs. Harry and Ginny are still by the pool, standing facing each other, and without looking away from Harry, she takes off her shirt, to reveal her bikini under it.

Harry gasps, but Lily knows that what is taking his breath away are the marks on Ginny’s torso — faint scars of cuts and small yellowed bruises that remained from the battle, over a month ago.

Ginny bits her lip, her arms trembling as if she wants to cover herself. Harry finally takes a step in her direction, looking her in the eyes now.

'Thank you for showing me,’ he whispers and then he sighs. 'My turn'.

His hands are shaking as he goes to unbutton his shirt, until Ginny raises her hands.

'May I?'

Harry nods slowly.

Ginny keeps her head high, not looking away from Harry's eyes, until she finishes opening all the buttons from his shirt and taking it off.

Then her eyes fall to his chest and Ginny freezes.

Lily knows what she is seeing, even though Lily can't see it from her angle: Harry's new lightning scar, across his chest, over his heart, where the Killing Curse hit him for the second time in his life.

'Harry,’ Ginny sighs, pain evident in her voice. She raises her hand, looking at him, questioning him silently. Harry nods once more.

Then Ginny takes a step closer to him, touching his chest, and Lily knows that she must be feeling his heart over it.

She lets the curtain fall and returns to her potion.

She is not surprised when they return home holding hands and she only tells James later (so he doesn't say anything during dinner because she knows her husband) that Ginny kissed Harry softly on the lips when she thought no one was seeing them.

#Hinny #Jily Lives AU #Hinny Fanfiction #Eyes glistening #T: Fanfiction

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selinakidreams · 4 years ago

Note

Hello my love can i please request that you follow up on this lovely work of art you deposited in my ask box? Ty ty

oh oh oh what is this? the lovely carter (and val- in spirit) dropping in my inbox and requesting for me (???????) to write,,,,,,,,,,, I’m honored and will happily accept.

I am so so so so so sorry this took me so long to write,, it’s been sitting in my drafts for weeks,,,, I hope this makes up for it 🥺 I tweaked it a bit and I think it works,,, better now ? hopefully !!

warnings: this is smutty, SLIGHT voyerism, dubcon turned to con, p♥︎rn with like.. a dash of plot ? maybe ?, fem! reader, thigh riding, uh riding dick right after, LIGHT MENTIONS of fwb! Osamu,, ah ha haa — NO INCEST.

Dinners with the Miyas: a weekly tradition since... before you could remember. Once a week, you and your family would gather at the Miya’s house for a homemade feast.

In hindsight, it was a really nice way for two life-long best friends, both of your guys’ moms, and their loved ones to get together and catch up after a busy week- but as a girl dealing with a pair of twins a year older than herself, it was absolute hell.

At first, you used to despise having to get properly dressed just to eat dinner with your family friends. All that effort and for what? You see them all the time at school already, what’s so special about coming together for dinner once a week? And honestly, you were just going to get dirtied up anyways. Their beautiful blooming garden was calling your name and who were you to deny it?

You’d often find yourself frolicking among the tall blades of grass and colorful flowers, the wind swaying the plants to and fro. It was so calming to sit and watch the bees buzz around and pollinate. Needless to say, this is the boys’ cue to come into the picture; they always ruined your fun. The twins started growing into... boys, meaning they were an absolute nuisance.

It all started on a gloomy day; it had rained a few hours prior to the meetup and the Miya’s garden was- of course- muddy, but you just couldn’t resist. You tried to be as careful as you could, especially after the continuous complaints from your mother about how dirty you were when you showed up to the dinner table, but somebody decided to sabotage that.

A cold, wet slab of goop slapped you square in the face. With eyes growing wide, you turned to the culprit. An obnoxious laugh left Atsumu Miya’s mouth and in the same breath managed to call you ugly. You didn’t know what to do besides look down; you felt tears prick your lash line and you didn’t want that bully of a boy to see you cry. When you lifted your gaze to find the back door to run to, you paused upon seeing more mud flying through the air- only it wasn’t at you this time. It’s target was Atsumu- the launcher, Osamu. Finishing the embarrassing blow, the twin pointedly said the same phrase that was spat at you, before turning to you and apologizing for his idiot brother’s actions. Needless to say, after that Osamu Miya became your knight in shining armor.

As the years pass, they started to come over to your house more. When the boys were in your room, they (mainly the more wide-eyed, now blonde-haired, insatiably curious one) poked and prodded where their gazes didn’t belong. Osamu always tried his hardest to reil his brother in, attempting to put things back and apologizing every once in a while.it was painfully easy to realize that your perspective about him about him shifted; The politeness. The calm. The sensibility. He was kind and considerate. Your view on Osamu began to change into something of want, and oddly enough, it wasn’t pure.

You and osamu grew closer in ways you weren’t expecting; he was your first sexual everything. First kiss, first touch, first fuck- and with every intimate moment you both shared, the level of respect and maturity was extremely high. There was only one issue, whatever one miya wanted, the other wanted it just as bad.

Atsumu’s gaze on you lasted longer and longer, his tricks were getting more and more perverse- anything he could do to cause a little mischief and ripen the sexual tension he began to build between the two of you. But even the kiddie wrestling matches, flipping up your skirt, and lingering touches became boring; none of his little teases seemed to satisfy him anymore.

He was jealous. He had to be. Osamu never boasted, much less muttered a single word about what you two did when you were alone but Atsumu wasn’t dumb. He knew one of the Miya’s were getting their dick wet and it certainly wasn’t him. He was becoming impatient, but to you, he seemed really on edge- so much so, that one night you found yourself in one of the most compromising positions with the honey-haired idiot.

The three of you were chatting about the twins’ most recent volleyball match in your room, waiting for your moms’ wine induced giggles to subside and finnish the food already.

With lit up eyes, Atsumu was boasting about how they’d achieved their first quick when Osamu pardoned himself so he could use the restroom.

“AWHH ‘SAMU, YOURE GONNA MISS THE BEST PART.” Tsumu loudly whined.

“i was there, idiot. just keep telling her the story, i’ll be back.” he rolled his eyes before leaving the room.

He sucked his teeth before turning to you to continue the story only to find your eyes glued to find Osamu’s fleeting figure. You looked almost dazed out and Atsumu couldn’t believe it. Right in front of his eyes, you were eye-fucking his twin brother instead of listening to him.

Absolutely not.

Part of you should not be surprised. You looked away for just a few seconds- just enough for Atsumu to be annoyed that the attention wasn’t on him. Now you found yourself pinned to the floor, both wrists in one of his big hands, the other holding your hips down. You let out a squeal as you tried squirming out of his grasp.... that was until his knee firmly placed itself against your crotch in just the right place. You swear up and down that you didn’t mean to but there was a surprised gasp that shouldn’t have left your mouth. It almost sounded like... the thought stilled your body.

atsumu took note of this.

In a low murmur, he leaned incredibly close and whispered, “how’s that pretty pussy of yers feelin right now?”

It sent a violent pink tinge to your cheeks and a bolt of arousal down your spine, your slick spreading against your underwear and the top of his jeanclad knee. A clench of your thighs meant this was going exactly where he wanted it to- his wait was over.

“ ‘m waiting for an answer, princess.” he tutted, his face only getting closer to yours while he applied more pressure against your throbbing vulva.

It was never like this with ‘samu. This... was almost exciting for you. Something teetering the lines of flavorful and troublesome. The little voice in your head was screaming at you but the aching desire in your pussy was louder.

“Ah!- atsumu! what are you doing?” you whimper, trying to hide your face. There were so many thoughts racing through your mind, the logical part of you wanted to hear them all out but in the moment you were so overwhelmed. There needed to be control in such a situation; You tried to shift around to loosen his grip, accidentally applying pressure that was welcoming it the most, causing a breathy moan to escape your lips and your eyes to clamp shut.

“mmm well, you’re so focused on my brother, i thought i’d show you what you were missin if you started payin more attention to me.” You could hear the smirk in his voice and you whine. This position was so compromising.

He trailed the hand that weighed down your waist up the curves of your side and took your jaw in his hand. He turned your face and when you peeked open your eyes, your gaze was met with his.

“I want you to cum on my thigh.”

Eyes wide, you tried shaking your head to no avail. His grip was so strong. “Atsumu no!! Osamu’s gonna get back and dinner is gonna be done soon and just- no!” You squeal.

“Y’still have time,” he said calmly, “ ‘samu’s probably checkin on dinner... so yeh better start... or else. Y’know what? I could just continue this though dinner. Slide my hand up ye’thigh under the table...” he started, letting go of your face and ghosting his hand down your body. The thought of his big hands palming over your clit while a finger is dipped into your warm pool flashed in your mind. You clenched, and boy, he felt it.

“Mmm, did my pretty girl think about my fingers- fingers that could reach places yours can’t?” He grinned as he watched you follow his hand with your eyes. “maybe you’d like it if i play with your clit under the table, hm? right next to my brother-”

“no no! here. right now.” is all you could manage to get out. your head was swimming with all that could happen, it only got hazier when you felt the pressure on your cunt lessen- you wanted it back. “Ts-sumu.. i..”

“i know, i know... but first i want you to cum on my thigh if you want my fingers that badly. I want you whiny and desperate, rubbing that pretty cunt all over me. Moaning my name.”

That’s how you found yourself stuffed in your small closet, you desk chair pulled away from its rightful place,

With his throbbing cock fighting against the cage of his pants and heavy pants leaving his lips, his hands could only find relief on your waist- assisting you in your delishious movements.

His noises weren’t the only ones to be heard, you were trying so hard to contain them but nothing is coming of it. Short little high pitched whines rung in Atsumu s ears- but what really got him were the whimpers of “fuck tsumi,” when the angle hit your clit just right and the squeeze of his biceps as you threw your head back. As soon as he experienced that, he needed you to cum right then and there. And not on his thigh.

“Nope- fuck, we’re switching it up,” he mumbled as he stopped your hips from grinding down. Your mind was a mess but all you could think about in your extremely aroused state was that you needed to cum.

“Atsumu wh-“ before you could even finish your question, he unzipped his pants and uncovered himself from his boxers, his angry cockhead slapping his torso and smearing pre-cum on his skin.

“On- now, Princess.”

There was no need for protests; he was expecting one to come out but instead he felt your soft hands lightly grip his bulging head and give a few strokes before all he heard in that cramped, dark closet was, “you’re so .. big.”

Eyes wide, a garbled moan left his mouth and next thing he knew, you were repositioning till his tip lined with your sopping entrance. He couldn’t take it, he thrusted upward as you sunk down. A shocked moan ripped out of both of you and in the moment of silence that followed afterwards, you could hear the floorboard creek.

Apparently Atsumu did too because his actions stopped and one of his hands left your hips to presumably cover your mouth. You presumed wrong.

Your closet door slid open to reveal a wide eyed Osamu palming himself.

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years ago

Text

Out Of Time ~ 131

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,805ish

Summary: The fight continues.

“Y/N? Did you do it?” Steve asked, still fighting off the creatures attacking them. No answer though. “Y/N?” Still nothing. “I need eyes on Y/N!”

“I’m heading to the lab now!” Bucky responded.

“She seems to be in a trance,” Shuri finally answered, coming up to Y/N. “Her eyes are glowing the same color as the Stone, but it’s clear she’s not really here.”

“And the Stone?” Steve wondered.

“Floating in between her hands. But I can already tell there’s a protective barrier around it. We won’t be able to get to it.”

“I’m here! I’me here!” Bucky exclaimed, running to Y/N’s side. “Shit.” He knelt in front of her, knowing not to touch her. “Steve, we’re going to have to wait this out. Waking her isn’t going to be a smart option.”

“Stay by her side then! She’s one of the few things stopping Thanos from succeeding.”

“On it.”

“I’m going to secure the lab,” Shuri stated, rushing off with the guards.

“Oh, doll,” Bucky sighed. “Where’ve you gone now?”

~~~

Y/N was kneeling in the common room of the SHIELD base she had once called home. Everything had an orange tint to it, so she knew she was in the Soul Dimension. Standing up, she observed the room. No one was there and it looked like it had those many years ago when they first had found the base. Untouched, undamaged, ready and waiting for adventure.

Confused as to why she was there, Y/N stood up and began to make her way around the base. Memories of all the good times and bad she had shared with the team crossed her mind. She had completely forgotten about the troubles in reality as she wondered, eventually finding her way to Coulson’s office. With a shaky breath, she opened the door. Looking around, she froze when her eyes saw it. Saw him.

“Hey, Y/N,” Coulson smiled. He was in a black suit, sitting against his desk. “Told you I’d always be there.”

“Phil?” Y/N gasped. “What… how… this means… you died.”

“About a week ago.” Coulson stood up straight, unbuttoning his jacket. “May should have sent you a letter. Though, I understand why you haven’t gotten in yet.”

“Why are you here?”

“Don’t know,” he shrugged. “The Stone brought me here. I immediately knew it was because of you though. What’s going on?”

“I… Thanos is coming for the Stones. I was in Wakanda, trying to destroy the Soul Stone and now I’m here.” Y/N looked around. “They told me… they warned me.”

“Who warned you? About what?”

“The Stones warned me that if I tried to stop them, they would stop me. This is them doing that.”

“Why would they do that though? Aren’t you suppose to save the universe or something?”

“I am… just not yet… people are going to die. And I won’t be able to stop it…”

“People die every day, not everyone’s deaths is your fault.”

Y/N shook her head. “This is different though, Phil. So very different.”

Coulson sighed and walked over so that he was standing in front of Y/N. “Always been so stubborn and full of heart. But instead of staying here feeling guilty about it all, before it even happens, you need to focus and beat this Stone out.” He set his hands on her shoulders, looking at her square on. “You need to get out there and help everyone else.”

“I don’t—“

“No excuses. Focus. Close your eyes, take a deep breath and focus.”

~~~

Back on Titan, the small team there was trying to recover from a moon being thrown at them. Iron Man took the biggest hit. Moon-chunks were still flying everyone, with random debris as well. Mantis, Drax, and Star-Lord were all unconscious, flying through the air. Luckily, Spider-Man was still conscious. He swung through the air, catching the unconscious Guardians.

“I got you!” Spider-Man exclaimed, webbing Mantis. “I got you!” He snagged Drax next, securing both of them to something not moving. “I’m sorry I can’t remember anybody’s names!” He then reeled in Star-Lord.

Dr. Strange and Thanos began battling each other. Both using their available powers to counter the other. After Strange duplicated himself, Thanos used the Reality and Power Stones to discover the real one. He then used the Reality and Space Stones to pull Strange forward, letting Thanos grasp him by the throat.

“You’re full of tricks, wizard,” Thanos said, reaching for the necklace holding the Time Stone.

“No!” Strange yelled as Thanos snapped the necklace from his neck.

“Yet you never once used your greatest weapon.” Thanos crushed the necklace with his bare hand. “A fake.”

Angry, Thanos threw Dr. Strange and his head hit a rock, causing him to pass out. Almost simultaneously, a red and gold device slapped into the palm of the Infinity Gauntlet, bracing the fingers open. Iron Man then made a fast and hard entrance.

“You throw another moon at me, and I’m gonna to lose it,” Tony said, clearly done with Thanos.

“Stark,” Thanos greeted.

“You know me?”

“I do. You and the girl aren’t the only one cursed with knowledge.”

“My only curse is you.”

Small rockets popped out of Iron Man’s back and launched at Thanos. The rockets all exploded on target, momentarily shrouding Thanos in smoke. Before it cleared, Iron Man pile drove into Thanos horizontally, using his single super jet boot. As he bounced off, Tony flipped and stuck the landing, immediately re-configuring his boots into ground clamps and his gloves into rocket-driven battering rams, punching Thanos into the ruined wall behind him.

Thanos shook it off quickly. He reached forward and tore Iron Man’s helmet off, revealing Tony's surprised expression before the suit recovered automatically and re-formed his head protection. Thanos made use of the delay and punched back hard, sending Tony sliding meters away and giving Thanos time to rip the brace device off the gauntlet. He immediately used the Power Stone to stream energy at Tony, who formed a shield to kneel behind just as instantly, getting pushed back even further by the incredible force.

Iron Man slid out from behind the shield, letting the angled energy push him away for a faster start, and whipped back to Thanos. Tony kicked at the Titan with his left foot, turning the boot into a ground clamp at the same time to pin the gauntlet. He kept twisting while his left glove became a ran again, slamming into Thanos’ face and cutting his cheek.

“All that for a drop of blood,” Thanos panted.

Thanos smiled before punching Iron Man, sending him pinwheeling. He then started beating him with his fists. Iron Man attempted to block the blows with his forearms, but Thanos was relentless, picking him up by the helmet and blasting his midsection with the Power Stone. The gaps in the nano tech suit were gaping, as the armor lost the ability to recover from the intensity and extent of the damage.

Iron Man landed hard from the Power blast, struggled to one knee and fired his right hand repulsor at the inexorable Thanos; the beam was easily deflected by the gauntlet. Tony got to both feet as the suit tried to complete repairs, adding the beam from his left hand as well. Thanos walked right up to him, and backhanded the incomplete helmet completely off Tony's head. He crossed his arms to block a blow from Thanos' gauntlet, and had his left hand caught over his head.

In desperation, Tony formed what's left of his right glove into a short-sword, which was also easily caught by Thanos, snapping it off clean and driving it through Tony's left side. Thanos then walked Tony back until he was sitting, and placed the gauntlet almost comfortingly on Tony’s head.

“You have my respect, Stark,” Thanos said. “When I’m done, half of humanity will still be alive.” He let go, straightened and stepped back. “I hope they remember you.”

Tony was a little distracted with the pain, blood drooling out of his mouth and compromised breathing. Thanos raised the gauntlet, closing his fist, all three of the Stones glowing.

“Wait,” Thanos said, noticing the problem. He unlisted his hand and looked at the side of the gauntlet where the Stones sat. “The Soul Stone,” he growled. He looked around, realizing that someone had been missing from he whole fight. “The girl.” He glared at Tony. “Where is she?”

“Away… from here,” Tony panted.

“AHH!” Thanos screamed, powering up the gauntlet.

“STOP!” Strange shouted. “Spare his life… and I will give you the Stone.”

“No tricks.” Strange shook his head and Thanos pointed the gauntlet at him instead.

“Don’t!” Tony pled.

Dr. Strange reached up and plucked the Time Stone out of its hiding place. His opened his tremoring hand and the Stone floated to Thanos. Strange and Tony watched as Thanos took the Stone and dropped it into the thumb setting, the energy pulse making him wince.

“Two to go,” Thanos stated.

An energy blast hit the gauntlet and Thanos grimaced in surprise. Screaming in incoherent rage, with his helmet up and firing from both hands, Quill came flying straight for Thanos. Thanos didn’t bother responding to the assault, simply using the Space Stone to disappear. Star-Lord flew through where Thanos had been and crashed, rolling several times.

“Where is he?!” Quill exclaimed, standing and de-helmeting. Tony was stitching up his stab wound with his suit. “Did we just lose?”

Tony looked at Dr. Strange, clearly saddened. “Why would you do that?” He asked.

“We’re in the Endgame now,” Strange responded.

~~~

“Focus harder, Y/N!” Coulson ordered. “The Stone is trying to keep you in here. You need to get out there and help your team.”

“I know, Phil!” Y/N responded, frustrated. She ran her hands down her face. “I know…”

“Momma!” She heard a boy’s distance cries. “Momma!”

Y/N looked up, standing front he seat she was in. “Is that… no. Impossible. He’d be just a year.”

“Age doesn’t work the same in the Soul Stone,” Coulson replied.

“Momma!” The cry was frantic, clearly something was wrong.

“AJ?” Y/N responded.

“Momma!”

“AJ!”

A little boy, probably no more than six, came barreling into the room. He quickly latched onto Y/N and she bent down to hold onto him.

“AJ,” she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. She pulled back and knelt down, cupping his cheeks. “You’re so big.” He was the perfect mix of Y/N and Tony.

“There’s a problem, momma,” the little boy told her, trying to catch his breath.

“A problem? What’s the problem?”

“With daddy! He’s in trouble.”

“Dad? What’s wrong with Tony?”

“Thanos hurt him and now Thanos is headed for Earth. You have to do something.”

“I will, sweetheart,” she pressed a kiss to his head. “I will. Can you do something for me, AJ?”

“Of course, momma.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at her son. “Stay with Uncle Phil, okay? He’ll take care of you while I can’t. And don’t worry about me or your dad. I’m going to fix this.”

“Okay, momma.”

“Your momma and daddy love and miss you so much, you know that right?”

“I do,” the little boy nodded. “I love you too.”

Y/N gave a teary eyes, tight lipped smile. “That’s a good boy. You go stand back with Uncle Phil, alright?”

“Alright momma.”

She stood up as her son hurried over to Coulson. Her and Coulson made eye-contact. “Take care of him.”

“Are you kidding?” Coulson smiled, picking up AJ. “I’ve always wanted to be Uncle Phil. Now, focus.”

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath. She held her hands in front of her, palms up, as she closed her eyes. She could feel the Stone pushing against her, wanting to keep her there. But she wouldn’t let it, she had to be stronger. Focusing on the need to leave and the power surrounding her, Y/N began to channel it. Quickly, she could feel the power building inside her, begging to be let free.

“Keep going momma!” She could hear AJ cheer.

Y/N took in as much power as she could, before she felt like she would explode. Opening her eyes, she looked at Phil and AJ. They were both taken back my the incredibly amber shade Y/N’s eyes had taken, but they knew it was the Stones.

“Don’t let him forget me,” she told Phil.

“Never,” he responded.

With one last look at her son, Y/N closed her eyes and turned away. Letting out a painfully scream, the power inside her blasted out, cracking the inner walls of the Soul Stone.

~~~

“Bucky!” Steve called. “How’s it going up there?”

“She hasn’t moved, Steve,” Bucky responded with a shake of his head. “She’s— wait.” Bucky looked closer at the Stone floating between her palms. “The Stones cracking. She’s doing it!”

“Let me know when she’s done.”

“Come on, Y/N,” Bucky muttered. “You can do it, doll.”

As the Stone shattered into pieces, falling onto the ground, Y/N shouted out in pain. Her hands found the floor, stabilizing her from falling on her face.

“Oh my— Steve, she did it,” Bucky told the others, pulling Y/N into his chest. “She destroyed the Stone.”

“Good,” Steve replied. “Now you two need to get down here and help us hold them from getting Vision.”

Bucky held Y/N close, pressing a kiss to her hair. “You did it, doll.” He rocked them. “You did it.”

“Bucky…” she whispered, pushing away to see his face. “I—“

“Everyone, on my position,” Steve directed over the comms. “We have incoming.”

“What the hell?” Nat wondered.

“Cap,” Bruce said, “that’s him.”

“Eyes up,” Steve ordered. “Stay sharp.”

“Get us down there, Y/N,” Bucky said. “We have to help them.”

Arriving through a portal, ready to fight, Y/N and Bucky watched as Steve didn’t even get to strike before he was set back by purple energy from the Power Stone. T’Challa tried next. His armor was fully charged, kinetically, and he leaped high, claws extended. He was easily grabbed by the throat and punched to the ground, his armor discharging violently. Falcon was next, swooping in, but was stopped when his wings became rubbery and unable to sustain flight.

As Rhodey tried to stop Thanos next, Y/N noticed Vision and Wanda off to the side. Vision was kneeling before Wanda as she was channeling her energy towards the Mind Stone. Bucky rushed up to Thanos next, only to be punched away by the Power Stone. With a shaky breath, Y/N stood in front of Thanos.

“There you are, my little one,” Thanos smirked. “You took something from me.”

“It wasn’t yours to keep,” you responded.

“You know, the Stones warned me about a person able to channel them and use them to destroy me. I just didn’t imagine them like… this.”

“And I didn’t imagine you purple, but I guess we all have our disappointments.”

“I know what you did with the Soul Stone. You're foolish to think that could possibly stop me.”

“You’re foolish to think I can’t.”

Channeling the Stones, Y/N began to fling debris and rocks at the Titan. Only for him to block and destroy them before he was hit, also by using the Stones. Okoye flung a spear at Thanos as Y/N tried to keep him distracted. Unfortunately, Thanos was still able to throw both Okoye and the spear to the side, all while fighting Y/N and wrapping Natasha in bands of Earth. Groot tried to use the roots to stop the Titan, but Thanos easily broke them as he blocked Y/N’s assaults.

Finding a lucky moment of weakness, Thanos was able to fling Y/N across the clearing. He marched over there, ready to punch her, but Steve slid under his fist. The Captain screamed as he tried to hold Thanos off. Thanos, though, slammed his other fist into Steve’s head, rendering him insensible.

“Steve,” Y/N muttered, crawling over to her brother. She gently shook him. “Steve, come on.” Nothing.

Panting and aching, Y/N looked up just in time to see Wanda holding back Thanos while finishing off the Mind Stone. Y/N gasped sharply as a pain rolled over her whole body. Thanos walked closer to Wanda as their energies subsided and Vision fell over, lifeless.

“I understand, my child,” Thanos said. “Better than anyone.”

“You could never,” she snarled.

He reached down, stroking her hair. “Today, I lost more than you can know. But now is no time to mourn. Now… is no time at all.”

He reached forward, clenching the gauntlet. The Time Stone glowed and flowed green energy around his fist. In response, time began to reverse. Y/N could feel the Soul Stone and Mind Stone repairing themselves.

“No,” she gasped. Trying to stand up, she watched as the Mind Stone and Vision became intact and conscious once again.

“No!” Wanda screamed, lunging for Vision before she was swatted away.

Thanos picked up Vision by the throat, lifting him to eye level before digging his hand into Vision’s forehead and yanking out the Mind Stone. He pulled it loose and Vision immediately went limp and colorless. Y/N tried to run over there, only to be knocked down by Thanos tossing Vision at her.

Setting the Mind Stone in place, Y/N noticed the Soul Stone appearing in front of Thanos. Angrily, Y/N portaled in front of him.

“There’s nothing you can do to stop me now, my child,” Thanos smirked.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t try,” Y/N responded.

She opened a small portal, using it to grab the Soul Stone before Thanos could. Thanos growled as his hand swiped over where hers just disappeared. Before Y/N could do anything, suddenly she was wrapped up in roots and slammed against a large tree. She groaned at the impact she took, especially where her head was concerned. Thanos marched over, chuckling darkly.

“You can’t over power me, even with the Stones on your side,” Thanos said.

Taking a shaky breath, Y/N tried to channel the Stones to get free. Her breath hitched as she could feel the Stones but they wouldn’t let her use them.

“We told you this had to happen,” the Stones taunted her thoughts. “We told you that we would stop you.”

Y/N breathed shakily as Thanos used the power of the gauntlet on her. She screamed out in pain as her had was forced open and the Soul Stone was freed. Thanos smirked as he took the Stone and put it back in place. The energy surge from the gauntlet caused Thanos to bellow and Y/N to cry out in pain again. She could feel it all, but not access the power. Tears built up in her eyes as she met Thanos’.

“I’m so sorry, my child,” he said, not sounding sincere at all. “I wish there was another way.”

He lifted the gauntlet at Y/N, powering it up. Bracing herself, she clenched her eyes shut and turned away. But before Thanos could blast her, a bolt of lightning strikes him, digging him into the ground and grinding him back. Thor arrived, eyes glowing with power. He raised his new ax above his head and hurled it at the Titan. Thanos fired with the whole might of the gauntlet against it, but it didn’t slow the ax. The ax slammed right into Thanos’ chest. Thor landed in front of Thanos.

“I told you,” he growled. “You’d die for that!”

Thor took hold of the back of Thanos’ head and forced his ax in deeper. He stared at Thanos angrily as the Titan cried out in pain.

“You should have…” Thanos said weakly. “You… You should have gone for the head.” He lifted up the gauntlet and snapped his fingers.

“NO!” Thor screamed.

Y/N let out a scream that sounded that she was dying, cause she sure felt like it. She could feel the Stones working together to complete Thanos’ plan.

“What’d you do?” Thor asked. “WHAT’D YOU DO?!”

Y/N cried as Thanos used the Space Stone and disappeared. She was still suck on the tree. Steve stumbled into the clearing, holding his left side.

“Where’d he go?” Steve asked. “Thor… where’d he go?”

“Steve?” Bucky called, coming into the clearing. “Y/N?”

Bucky and Y/N made eye contact as he suddenly stumbled over and collapsed into ashes. Steve, in shock, walked over and touched the ground where Bucky’s ashes were.

“BUCKY!” Y/N screamed. “NO!”

Letting out a loud, sorrowful cry, the roots holding Y/N to the tree burned off her and she fell to her knees. She could feel the Stones letting her access them again, almost in a taunting way. With heaving breaths, Y/N lifted her head up and watched Wanda, Sam, Groot, and T’Challa all disappear, turning into ash like Bucky.

“NO!” She screamed again, unleashing a wave of power from her that rippled across the battlefield. “No….” She whispered.

~~~

On Titan, the team was collecting themselves. Mantis propped up Star-Lord, Spider-Man helped Tony to his feet, while Drax and Nebula managed to limp over on their own.

“Something’s happening,” Mantis said before disintegrating into ashes.

Quill looked behind him to see Drax disintegrate.

“Quill?” Drax said as he dissolved.

Quill stared in horror as he turned back to Tony, who was starting to panic.

“Steady, Quill,” Tony told him.

“Aw, man,” Quill said, also disintegrating.

“Tony,” Strange called calmly, “there was no other way.” Then he disappeared as well.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter said, realizing he was fading away. Tony stared, horrified. “I don’t feel so good…”

“You’re alright,” Tony said, trying to be calm but his voice was shaking and he was looking at Peter in terror.

Peter was stumbling towards Tony, terrified. “I don’t know what’s— I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t—“ He fell into Tony’s arms, clutching him tight while beginning to cry. “I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go, Mr. Stark, please. Please, I don't wanna go. I don't wanna go… I’m sorry.”

And then Peter turned to ash in Tony’s arms. Tony fell forward from the lack of weight in his arms, staring at his hands in disbelief.

“He did it,” Nebula stated.

~~~

Steve, Thor, Rhodey, Nat, Bruce, and Rocket were all mourning near Vision’s dead body. Y/N was still on her knees beneath the tree, holding and rocking herself as she cried.

“What is this?” Rhodey asked. “What the hell is happening?”

“… oh, God.”

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#tony stark x reader #bucky barnes x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #Phil Coulson x Reader #iron man x reader #tony stark imagine #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #winter soldier x reader #Avengers infinity war #infinity war #the infinity stones

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excaive · 2 years ago

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This has almost definitely been answered, but can a person have multiple parasites? What if they try to have multiple major parasites? Naturally or with modified parasites? I figured someone could have way more minor parasites if I understand the lore so far correctly, but what would the limit for minor parasites be? Sorry for the redundant questions but this is rlly interesting!

And on that note, one final question! Do parasites ever get into little fights over the body space the occupy? Like minor parasites fighting over real estate or even a major parasite scooting some minor parasites out to take up the space?

Sorry if this is all completely wrong to ur lore but either way i love the writing you've done its all rlly cool!! <3

(SRY IT TOOK A HOT MINUTE TO REPLY I was writing a response the other day but had to dip to do stuff so it’s been sitting in my drafts and I forgor about it💀) WELL LOVELY ANON I LOVE REPEATING MYSELF LIKE A BROKEN RECORD 💖💖💖

That said I do recall I've talked about this somewhat, but I think that was just on my own accord, and let's be real Tumblr isn't known for their amazing search engine, AND it's not like I have a comprehensible well written paper on all my lore available + I literally can't expect every single person who follows me to read Everything I post about OR remember Everything I've Said bc that's impossible

And there's always the chance ya come with a question I haven't considered or it's about something I haven't developed much yet and then you help me figure it out! That's always fun :3

A person can have up to 7 minor parasites and 1 major parasite before it might pose a risk for straining the bond with the parasites. This is however just a guideline - it can vary from person to person, being a few more or less.

And if you DO have a major parasite, it can merge with natural minor parasites, which reduces bond strain, and you'd be able to get some more minor parasites. I don't have an exact number but like. the major parasite can only merge with a limited amount of minor parasites before THAT would pose a risk for strain, on top on any additional minor parasites a person gets. But it would not ever get over the 20 number mark in total of parasites (includes the minor parasites merged with the major parasite) because That's Just Too Much Man.

Regarding the guidline, a person CANNOT have more than 1 major parasite because those are more autonomous than minor parasites and getting another one is gonna strain the bond real bad, making it Unstable, Unhealthy, Chained, Broken - or in the worst case scenario it will result in a Take Over (lethal - either the parasite becomes malicious and Wants To Kill You((happens often with modified major parasites)) OR the parasite is literally losing its grip on its sanity and panics and kills its host and itself in that action)

As for parasites tussling for space, this never really happens! Sharing is caring :] Parasites are all homies with each other and they’re all down for merging to compromise and combine attributes - and major parasites will gladly take minor parasites into itself if desired and to reduce bond strain.

THAT SAID. Modified minor parasites, especially the ones who hold more attributes than they can naturally, can easily become miserable at any sign of bond strain, becoming incompatible, and become desperate and might turn on other minor parasites in an attempt to alleviate the strain. It’s not done with malicious intent, the modified minor parasite is just suffering and wants it to stop :’) If there’s a major parasite present, it will initiate a Parasite Override, aka kill the modified minor parasite out of mercy, if it does show signs of incompatibiliy.

It’s not an ideal situation but it needs to be done so it doesn’t jeopardize the stability of the bond to the host, which would make the rest of the parasites and host miserable too.

Thank u for the ask!!! feel free to ask me more stuff whether it’s about anything I’ve already said or you’re wondering about something else :3 💖

#ask #black orbit lore

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carnelianns · 5 years ago

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(Ikesen and Ikevamp) Sorry if this has been asked before. But how about an MC who went back to her own time only to find out she was pregnant. How would the boys reaxt if she comes back somehow a few years later but with a young child she says is theirs.

im sorry for keeping u waiting this long anon huhu,, i only did the vamps but, if my askbox allows, i’ll come back to do the sen boys too ! i didn’t have a specific gender for their children so jus imagine the lil rascal any way u want

Napoleon Bonaparte

When you come back through that door with a fascinated child holding your hand, it’s him you meet first again, and the tears are already glossing his eyes over before you can say anything.

He literally has no words when you smile gently, saying it’s his. Napoleon swallows the bump in his throat before making his way to the both of you, holding the two of you in his arms for only god knows how long.

“I.. can’t wait to live my life with you both, nununche,” he mumbles into your hair, ears slightly tinged, only causing you to laugh at his adorable antics.

As a father, he isn’t very strict, and he isn’t all that good in child-rearing, either. But he tries — you have to keep reminding yourself of this when you catch them in a compromising position, usually when you see your child holding a foil with a goofy smile.

“Nunuche.. I can explain,” Napoleon says calmly when you first find the two of them — well, three; it seems Jean was in on this little practice, though he quickly bolted when he saw you — parading around the training room with the foils.

“Mamma, papa said he was the King! He teached me how to be King!” Your child exclaims, flailing the weapon around excitedly as your gaze only darkens.

“Well, you see, I meant emperor, but—” his words die down when he sees your unimpressed face practically dripping with the murderous intent he’s so used to fighting against on the battle field

Slowly kneeling down to meet your child’s eyes, you see him whispering something incoherent before the little one nods seriously, slowly putting down the foil.

Then, as if counting down ‘3, 2, 1′, Napoleon immediately hoists your child up in his arms, running out of the room as both his laughter and your child’s squeals echo throughout the halls.

“Napoleone di Buonaparte, get your ass back here right now!” You scream, running after them.

“3, 2, 1 — Vive L’Empereur!” The two of them scream back, before bursting into laughter. They’re always in sync. It’s exasperating.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

“That child is.. mine?” He asks, slightly jaw-slacked, pointing at the child that undeniably looks like him, if the identical beauty mark or violet eyes are anything to go by.

“Do you.. not want—”

“I never said that,” he instantly cuts you off, going over to kneel at the confused child. With a slight smile, in an attempt to hold his tears back, he manages, “So.. how was spending time with that clumsy mother of yours?”

Mozart doesn’t really know how to spend time with his child, though he’s clearly not opposed to carrying the little rascal around on his shoulders, or dragging the child clinging onto his leg around when stubbornness bites.

You often don’t know what he’s thinking whenever he spends time with your child, or the whole situation, but rest assured, he wouldn’t change it for the world, despite how he may look.

A clear example of this is when you once walked into the piano room only to see your little darling on top of the grand white piano itself, snoozing on top of a small comforter whilst your lover plays the soft tunes you’ve grown to love.

Shock holds you captive as you stare at the lovely sight, before finally trailing off, “Mozart..”

Without so much as glancing at you, he replies, voice hushed in a soft tone you don’t hear so often. The blissful smile on his face speaks thousands of words.

“I thought you were the only one foolish enough to let your guard down in front of me… It seems I was wrong.”

Leonardo da Vinci

He had an inkling the moment he saw the child sporting caramel eyes so similar to his own, tawny gaze regarding the large mansion with wonder.

And when you did reveal that the child is actually his, he only pulled you close to his chest, hoisting the little one up with his other arm.

“Papa has a lot of time to make up to you, doesn’t he?”

Leonardo is good with children, if it isn’t obvious. Not in your conventional dad way wherein he brings the child to school — in fact, he probably fell asleep in the hallway just when the two were about to leave — but he's awfully good at keeping his child entertained.

Running around the mansions, creating new inventions, learning a new language — sometimes, you have to remind yourself that this child’s father is literally Leonardo da Vinci.

A position you often see them in, however, is snoozing on the floor, probably near the library, your child a small ball curled into Leonardo’s arms and head in the crook of his neck.

“Again? Really?” You can only huff, though that doesn’t stop the small smile from spreading on your face as you brush the locks of hair out of your lover’s face.

“Cara mia,” he rasps out, cracking a bleary eye open and gripping your wrist softly. Then, he smiles, all sorts of soft and lovely and.. unguarded.

“You two.. are the best things that have happened to me.”

Arthur Conan Doyle

Arthur tries swallowing back the lump in his throat when he sees you standing in front of that damned door, though to no avail as a tear slips.

He starts full-on crying when you say that you’re back for good and that the child is his, and he’ll have to be comforted by yours and your child’s tiny arms before he even plans to stop.

“Ah, crying like that on our first meeting… Don’t you think your fath — I’m a bit embarrassing?” He asks, sniffling as he musters a smile.

Your child giggles, blue eyes crinkling. “No! Mommy told me a whooooole lot about you, daddy!”

He has to stop himself from sobbing again.

Arthur wastes no time in making up for what he’s missed, and every single day is one you’d find the two of them either in town or messing about at home.

If not, then they’re probably just chilling in the comforts of his room, doing god knows what. The day you peek in to see what exactly they were up to was a blessed day.

Maneuvering yourself in a way that lets you see through the tiny crack of the open door, your jaw drops at the adorable sight of your child in a tiny deerstalker and trench coat far too big for his form, Arthur nodding with a serious look on his face.

“So, Watson, do you think crepes make mummy happier?” Your child asks, holding his magnifying glass up — one you’re sure is from Leonardo — like a mic in front of Arthur’s face.

He strokes his chin for a moment, before answering, “Seeing her reaction when we gave her the ones we bought yesterday, I deduce they do, Sherlock.”

“Good dedoo – deduck – deduction, Watson! I thought so too.”

Your heart literally melts. The two are far too cute for you, you having to calm yourself before walking in with the widest smile on your face. Dorks.

Vincent van Gogh

When you meet those familiar, cerulean eyes from your place in front of the door, they’re already glossy in seconds, a flurry of emotions clear on Vincent’s face, though his smile says it all.

“Is it too much to say I’ve been waiting for you this whole time?”

Vincent would be practically wallowing in regret that he wasn’t able to be a part of his child’s life for the first few years, leading him to do any and everything that will cause his child to smile. In simpler terms, he’s basically wrapped around the little one’s finger.

He’s so adorable and happy that he’s blessed with your lovely child, and there’s an immediate smile on his face when he so much as thinks about the little blondie.

He literally makes the other residents question whether or not they want a child too.

Their bonding time is painting and, more often than not, it ends up with all three of you cramped in the shower, scrubbing furiously at the sticky paint on their skin.

“I’m sorry for having you do this all the time,” Vincent’s soft voice only makes you sigh in relaxation as he massages your shoulders from behind you, causing your fingers to halt in their journey of rubbing some blue paint off your child.

“It’ll take more than that if you wanna make it up to me,” you hum, leaning back into his chest and looking up into his bright eyes.

Your lips were just about to meet, when —

“Mam, I’m not clean yet!”

You groan, Vincent only laughing as you meet the crossed arms of your child pouting child.

“Don’t give your mammie too much of a hard time, okay?” He never forgets to take care of you above all, of course.

Theodorus van Gogh

When he first sees you after years with a child, his child, grasping your hand, Theo has to literally disappear to cool his head off because he’s angry.

Not at you, no, never, but at himself. That he wasn’t there for his child, for you, and god, even if he were, would he have been a good father?

“Hon — Schatje,” he starts, running his fingers through his already messy hair and staring at you with eyes that practically bleed insecurity, his voice breaking. “How am I supposed to take care of a child when I couldn’t even take care of you?”

After many reassuring words and gentle touches, Theo’s finally okay, holding up and scrutinising your child much like how he does a painting. He’s, well, awkward.

Theo is surprisingly very gentle with your child because he honestly doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing.

He’s also very grounded and doesn’t fall for cute little tricks that much either, so out of the residents, he’d be one of the better fathers.

“Nee.” “Papje, pleaaase?” “No. Non. Nee.”

Your lover’s fixed refusal causes you to peek your head into a lovely picture. Theo was holding a chocolate bar high above his head, steely gaze fixed on your young child with his puppy dog eyes in full view.

“Je mama said no chocolate, right?” Your heart warms when you realise he remembered your scoldings, though you can’t help but to feel bad for your whining baby.

“Theo,” you say, both their heads turning towards you. “How about you give the little baby some chocolate and we all enjoy some pancakes, yeah?”

The way both their eyes shine almost identically is adorable.

Dazai Osamu

When you showed up again with the child in hand, one he knows is his, his first thought, first wish, is that for that tiny thing to not be his. Because no one knows how harsh this world is more than the man who wished to end it all, so much more than once.

But Dazai makes up his mind when he sees you and your — his child staring up at him with those eyes that look so much like your own. He makes up his mind, despite his own continuous suffering, that he’ll never let this child go through what he had to.

“Was I staring too much?” He smiles, slightly sad and, well, empty. “I suppose it’s because the little one looks far too much like you.” Bright. Too bright for me.

As a father, he’s surprisingly really good with children? He quite enjoys seeing your child smile more than anything, and one way he knows how to do so is by perching the little one on his shoulders, running around the mansion as his hands intertwine with small, tiny fingers.

You don’t know whether to yell at him and his close-eyed grin, or simply laugh at the resonating giggles of your child. Probably both as you chase the two down the halls.

Dazai often zones out whenever he’s playing with your child, a look you can only describe as pure bliss on those handsome features of his. As you stare up at him, confusion clear on your features, you ask, “Hey, Dazai, why do you.. Zone out so much? Whenever you’re with, you know,” you motion to the snoozing one in between the both of you.

“Why do I zone out, you ask?” He gives you a smile, a real one this time, and gently pokes at the little ones cheeks. “I think.. I’ve found a wonderful reason to live, is all.”

Isaac Newton

“That’s… mine??” “That?” “... It?” “It?” “The.. child?”

Isaac is very flustered, for lack of better terms. He can barely manage the children he and Napoleon go see intermittently, but his own child? Lord, help him.

He gets awfully flushed whenever he’s carrying his child around the mansion because even then, he isn’t spared by Arthur and Dazai’s teasing remarks — in fact, it only seems to have gotten worse.

Isaac is surprisingly good at getting your rascal child to sleep with his bedtime stories, which are usually all his unsaid rambles.

“And did daddy get that bruise on his forehead because he slipped while chasing Uncle Dazai and Uncle Arthur?”

Your child nods, bright eyes sparkling and toothy grin showing. “Daddy also said, ‘Get back here, you devilish imbeciles!’”

Your accusatory gaze turns towards Isaac, who averts his eyes, holding an ice pack to his bruising forehead.

“I-In my defense, they were—”

“One more time, Isaac, and I’m changing this baby’s legal godfathers to the two imbeciles you love so much.”

Gaping, his eyes widen to the size of saucers, “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

He is now a grumbling mess when the two are around his child, but the lack of chasing them around with a stick in hand can be counted as an upgrade.

Jean d’Arc

When you walk through that door once more, nervously telling your lover that this child is his, you’re afraid of his reaction — after all, Jean is, despite his vampiric aging, barely an adult himself.

His jaw drops and he can’t stop staring at you nor the child with his inky locks, and you have to help him sit and calm down.

“Papa?” Your child asks, staring up at the still slightly panicked Jean as you hold your breath.

He stares for a moment, mouth wide, before finally, finally smiling, albeit a little awkward and rough around the edges. “Yes, little one?”

He’s extremely unaccustomed to this whole parent thing and can barely do anything without asking you first, so he feels bad quite often for having to lean on you so much.

Although he barely knows how to handle a sobbing child, nor can he entertain the child very well, you find that the both of them are quite content in each other’s presence as is.

Jean, well, looks ethereal as the sun shines through the windows in his room, a gentle smile gracing his face as he stares at his sleeping child.

He utters your name, causing you to look up, only to find him tracing circles around your child’s soft skin.

“Is this.. how it’s like to be happy?”

William Shakespeare

When Shakespeare wakes up to the news that you are, in fact, back at the mansion with a little surprise, he’s already there in no time.

He didn’t expect the little surprise to be a little child that’s practically an identical copy of him. But he’s always been more of a shoot first, ask questions later type of guy, so he immediately whisks you off to his manor, much to the exasperation of the residents who were surprisingly enjoying their time with the little Shakespeare lookalike.

Except he doesn’t really need to ask questions, because he’s already figured everything out through your soft, slightly nervous gaze, and your lovely little mannerisms.

“Alas, it seems the Heavens were kind enough to grant my wish,” he says as he stares at your child, only smiling to meet your confused gaze. “For I only wished you weren’t too lonely without my presence.”

William is always with his child, whatever the circumstances. Though he quite enjoys showing off his child, he’s also keen on spending his every waking second with the little tyke because he knows how it feels like to grow up lonely, and he wouldn't bestow that upon his own little one.

“Darling, it appears I has’t gotten myself into a slight predicament.”

If you could, you would have snapped a picture of your smiling lover practically itching to get up, yet unable to do so due to the sleeping child in his lap.

“And how did you get yourself into this predicament, my love?” You tease, your own smile on your face. He has a habit of reading his writings aloud, and it seems the little one fell asleep to William’s gentle voice.

“My works seem to be but a mere bedtime story to this little one,” he motions to the child, his smile softening. “I wonder why it does not dishearten me.”

Comte de Saint-Germain

“I was hoping you’d be back, ma chérie.” His perfunctory smile betrays the inner flurry of emotions inside him as he glances towards the child. “With a lovely little thing in hand.”

“Your lovely little thing,” you say gently, and the surprise outlining his normally composed face is something you’d forever save in your mind.

Comte is wrapped around the little one’s finger, his rotten spoiling being the effect of not being in your child’s life for a good while, and, of course, his indispensable regret for having you come back to him.

Many times have you asked Sebastian the whereabouts of your lover and your child, only for him to give you the look, responding that they were out yet again, and are probably not coming back without a few shopping bags in hand.

Then, to finally put a stop to it all, you decided to conduct a harmless experiment.

Placing a few coins on one side of his desk, a toy in the middle, and a beloved fruit on the side. After explaining to him that it’s to see what your child’s fate would be — picking between fortune, fun, and, well, snacks, you think — he simply leans back, interest shining in those eyes of his.

Unsurprisingly for you, your child pushes all these away in a second, opting to hug the wide-eyed man on the soft armchair behind the desk.

“And what.. does this mean, ma chérie?” He asks, honest-to-god confused as his hands slowly wrap around your child’s form.

You smile softly, “Isn’t it obvious, silly? The little rascal loves you more than anything.”

His eyes are suspiciously glossy before he laughs it off, preparing for yet another shopping spree — you regret everything.

Sebastian

He only gives you a knowing smile when you pass through the door with a young child gripping your hand.

“So.. this is the little one, is it?” He asks, tone soft as he walks towards you, wrapping a sturdy arm around your waist and meeting eyes with his child. “I’m a strict father, mind you.”

“Sebastian!” “I was joking. Slightly.”

Despite being a father, Sebastian is as strict and precise as ever around the mansion, rarely having to leave either his work or his family unattended due to his impeccable time management skills.

And if he struggles with both, well, he just has to merge them into one task, doesn’t he? Many are the times wherein the residents catch Sebastian working, his little runt on his tail or on his hip.

“They’re at it again, you know,” Mozart says in passing, only causing you to groan.

“Sebastian! How many times have I told you not in the kitchen?” You exclaim, walking into the kitchen to find your lover and your child tackling yet another chore together.

It seemed to be baking this time, if the flour on both of their faces says anything.

“Mama!” Your child exclaims with powdered hands as Sebastian says blankly, “We’re doing chores.”

You merely roll your eyes, sighing as you walk out the room. Your apology comes later when a sloppy cupcake makes its way into your view.

Your eyes move up to your proud looking child, hair obviously patted down in an attempt to look presentable while your lover sports a tiny grin on his own face.

“We made this for you, mom! Papa said he wanted to make you reaaaally happy.”

Sebastian’s head instantly snaps down, eyes narrowing, “Hey.”

You can only laugh at your two babies, taking a bite of the surprisingly good and sweeter than an average cupcake.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #napoleon bonaparte #wolfgang amadeus mozart #mozart #leonardo da vinci #arthur conan doyle #vincent van gogh #theodorus van gogh #theo #dazai osamu #isaac newton #jean d'arc #william shakespeare #shakespeare #comte de saint germain #comte #sebastian #headcanons

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samwisethewitch · 4 years ago

Text

Neopagans, reconstructionists, and revivalists, oh my!

As we’ve discussed before, “pagan” is an umbrella term that actually encompasses a wide range of traditions. Not all pagans believe the same things, worship the same gods, or conceptualize those gods the same way.

Within the bigger pagan umbrella, there are three smaller umbrellas that can be useful for classifying pagan worship: neopagan, reconstructionist, and revivalist. These labels describe different approaches to ancient pagan religion and different ways of incorporating paganism into daily life. It’s important to remember that words like “neopagan” or “reconstructionist” refer to someone’s practice and not necessarily to their beliefs.

A neopagan is someone who takes inspiration from ancient pagan religions, but does not try to recreate those religions in their practice. For example, a neopagan might feel a strong connection to the Roman gods, but they don’t necessarily observe all the intricacies of Roman ritual (and believe me, there’s a lot — Roman polytheism is where Catholicism gets a lot of its formal structure) in their practice. They’re comfortable making things up as they go along, combining concepts from different historical sources, and practicing a thoroughly modern type of paganism. You could say that neopagans strive to capture the spirit of ancient paganism, but do so in a very 21st-century way.

Neopagans are more likely to be monists than hard polytheists, and may even use pagan-style ritual as a means to connect to a single divine Source rather than a specific deity. Neopagan groups often place a great emphasis on reverence for nature and strive to live in harmony with the natural world. Neopagans are sometimes described as practicing “Earth-centered religion.”

The most famous neopagan faith is Wicca. Rather than being a recreation of an ancient religion, Wicca combines concepts from these religions (particularly Celtic and Germanic paganism) with elements of ceremonial magic and Western occultism. Wiccans worship the God and Goddess, personifications of the masculine and feminine sides of the divine Source, and many covens have their own unique mythology to describe the interactions between the God and Goddess through the cycle of the seasons. Wiccans tend to play fast and loose with historical sources, or may not include any historical elements in their practice at all. This is a good example of what a neopagan practice might look like.

On the exact opposite end of the spectrum are reconstructionists, who strive to recreate or “reconstruct” ancient religion. If you can’t do anything without reading three books about it first, you might be a reconstructionist. Jokes aside, reconstructionists seek to emulate a historical religion as closely as possible. Reconstructive practice is very research-heavy, and revolves around recreations of ancient rituals based on historical sources. There is a great emphasis on connecting to and honoring the ancient culture being reconstructed. Some reconstructionists may even learn ancient languages for use in ritual.

Reconstructionists may be monists, hard polytheists, or somewhere in between depending on the religion they are reconstructing. Their values, beliefs, and practices also depend on the culture being reconstructed. A Hellenic reconstructionist will have very different beliefs and practices from an Irish reconstructionist, for example.

Nova Roma is an example of a reconstructionist faith. According to their website, “Founded 2,750 years after the Eternal City itself, Nova Roma seeks to bring back those golden times, not through the sword and the legions, however, but through the spread of knowledge and through our own virtuous example… The modern practice of the Roman religion, the Cultus Deorum Romanorum is our attempt to reconstruct the religion of the ancient Romans as closely as possible.” Members of Nova Roma choose a Roman name for use in ritual — and those rituals are as close as possible to the rites of Imperial Rome. They even have communal religious spaces built to resemble Roman temples!

One important note about reconstruction: it’s impossible to do it perfectly. No matter which historical culture you’re reconstructing, there will likely be some gaps (possibly very large gaps) in our knowledge of their religion. No matter how much research you do, you will sometimes have to use your best guess.

While reconstruction seeks to recreate ancient religion, it is not all about looking backwards. No matter how closely you recreate Egyptian religion, you can never have the same thoughts, experiences, or worldview as an ancient Egyptian peasant. Even the most hardcore reconstructionist has to adapt their religion to fit a modern lifestyle. As author Morgan Daimler points out, “reconstruction is understanding the old pagan religion so that we can envision what it would have been like if it had never been interrupted by foreign influences and had continued to exist until today.”

I like to think of revivalists as the halfway point between neopagans and reconstructionists. Revivalists seek to recreate the spirit of a specific ancient religion, but they may not necessarily reconstruct all of the practices associated with that religion. Revivalists are much more concerned with theology and upholding ancient cultural/religious values than they are with dogma or practice.

Like reconstructionists, revivalists’ beliefs depend on the ancient culture they are seeking to revive. Also like reconstructionists, revivalists do a lot of research — however, their research acts more as inspiration or general guidelines than as something that has to be followed to the letter. Like neopagans, revivalists are very much practicing a modern religion.

Going back to our example of Roman paganism, a Roman revivalist will strive to uphold Roman values in their daily life, like xenia (roughly translated as “hospitality,” though that is an oversimplification). They likely worship the Roman gods, but may do so in a more informal way than Nova Roma or other reconstructionists. They may include some historic elements in their rituals, like wearing a head covering and making burnt offerings — but the ritual will likely be performed in their native language. Revivalists are all about taking the big ideas of ancient religion and adapting them for modern life.

The line between revival and reconstruction is not always clearly defined. Many revivalists use reconstruction in some areas of their faith, and every reconstructionist is a revivalist when they have to fill in gaps in historical knowledge of their religion. The distinction really lies in how closely you want to follow ancient traditions.

Each of these approaches to paganism has its benefits and its drawbacks. Different approaches work better for different people — a lot of it comes down to personality and preference. Here’s a quick rundown of some of the obvious pros and cons of each approach.

PROS of neopaganism:

Because this is by far the most widely practiced type of paganism, there is an abundance of beginner-friendly literature available for new neopagans.

Because of its popularity and flexibility, it’s usually fairly easy to find a neopagan group to worship with, either in person or online.

Neopaganism allows for a lot of experimentation and personal exploration. You are free to incorporate whatever elements work for you.

CONS of neopaganism

Ironically, an abundance of literature also means there are a lot of bad neopagan resources floating around. Newcomers should take care in choosing the books they read on the subject.

Some people become frustrated with the lack of structure in many neopagan traditions.

It can sometimes feel like there are no “real” right answers, since neopaganism relies heavily on personal truth.

PROS of reconstruction

Reconstructing an ancient religion provides a sense of structure.

Choosing to focus on a specific religion/culture can lead to a deep feeling of connection to that culture. This can be especially powerful for pagans who feel disconnected from their cultural heritage.

Because reconstruction seeks to recreate ancient religion, it’s easy to find other people who practice the same way you do, at least online.

CONS of reconstruction

Reconstruction is largely based on primary sources, so reconstructionists will likely have to read dense, academic, and/or archaic literature at some point.

Unless you live in a big city, it may be hard to find an in-person community that shares your beliefs and practices.

Focus on a single culture means there is less room for experimentation. You can still incorporate elements from other traditions, but only if they don’t contradict your existing beliefs.

PROS of revival

Revival allows pagans to feel a close connection to an ancient culture, while also allowing them freedom to customize their path.

Allows practitioners to be their own priest/priestess and make their own decisions regarding their practice.

Provides a middle ground between the fluidity of neopaganism and the stricture of reconstruction.

CONS of revival

Because every revivalist practices differently, it can be very hard to find a group to worship with, online or in person, without having to make compromises.

Like reconstructionists, revivalists will occasionally have to do some difficult reading.

Because this path is so often solitary, it can be hard to stick with it if you aren’t good at keeping yourself motivated.

If you are considering becoming pagan, take a moment to think about which of these approaches appeals most to you. Are you most attracted to neopaganism, reconstruction, or revival?

Don’t just think about which approach sounds the best, but think about which one is most practical for you. Do you need the external motivation of a group to keep you on the right track, or are you very internally motivated? Do you like following instructions, or do you prefer to make things up as you go? Do you feel a strong connection to a specific ancient culture, or do you feel more connected to nature itself? All of these questions can help guide you towards the right approach for your practice.

Resources:

Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner by Scott Cunningham

Nova Roma’s website, novaroma.org

Irish Paganism: Reconstructing Irish Polytheism by Morgan Daimler

The Way of Fire and Ice by Ryan Smith

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kiranatrix · 3 years ago

Note

What kind of Lawlight do you write? Anything short-ish with some angst?

Hooboy, yeah I write angst, fluff, spicy stuff, long and short fic. *flips through the menu* Here’s a pretty short ‘n angsty fic called Truth Serum that might scratch your itch. I’ll just paste it below since it’s not too long. You can find me on AO3 under zombiejesus for more.

—————-

It didn’t take long for L to recognize the subtle changes in Light after the Yotsuba case had ended. He was quieter now, more reserved. Kept to himself now that the handcuffs no longer bound them to the same spaces, to each other.

And if L was being honest, he missed it, in a way. But he wasn’t being honest, not with Light—he pretended like nothing had changed and he hadn’t noticed the changes in behavior—and not with himself.

But he knew he didn’t have much time left, felt the silent danger floating behind Light’s eyes. He saw a plan there, a cold confidence that betrayed Light’s feelings that he’d already won. Perhaps it was just a matter of time now. But what is he waiting for?

L had considered carefully his remaining options and none were likely to save his life, let alone expose Light as Kira. But there was one he hadn’t tried yet. Truth serum.

L held the syringe in his hands now, hovering over Light’s arm as he was restrained in the chair. It was just the two of them, Light had insisted on that stipulation if he was to go along with this. L still wasn’t completely sure why Light had agreed. Was he that confident he could beat it? Surely he didn’t think L believed he was innocent. But Light did have enormous willpower. Perhaps he really could.

”Last chance to back out of this, Kira.”

Light just shot him an irritated look and faced the wall, “Just get it over with.”

L applied the tourniquet and injected the drug into Light’s vein, holding a cotton pad over the injection site when he pulled the syringe back. He placed the empty syringe on a tray on the table and crouched in the chair across from Light.

Light began to sweat, he felt suddenly very hot as his mind became clouded, hazy. He tried to fight against it, but his eyes gradually unfocused as a fog descended. “Is...is this safe, Ryuzaki...”

”Other than the risks we discussed before, it’s perfectly safe.” He’d consulted with doctors about the dosage and precautions, and while no permanent damage was expected, some brief memory loss might occur. “As long as you have nothing to hide.”

Light swallowed hard, his throat felt dry and tight. He was drifting, hanging onto L’s voice and trying to focus, but he found his mental barriers, his practiced defenses, falling away under the drug’s influence. He slumped forward in the chair a bit, his chin resting on his chest as he tried to concentrate on breathing. He summoned up some scraps of defiance. “Doesn’t this...feel like cheating, Ryuzaki...using a drug? You must be...desperate.” A small smile as he lifted his large black pupils to meet L’s stare, but it was a broken mirror of Kira.

Something in L knew that’s exactly what this was. A last flailing attempt before it was too late. But he denied it to himself. It isn’t cheating. It’s the last option available to me.

”A few easy questions to see how you’re responding. State your name.”

”Yagami Light.” He looked at L, his eyes begging him not to do this. As strong as his willpower was, it was frighteningly clear he couldn’t fight this.

”And how old are you?”

”Eighteen.”

L paused. “Where did we meet?”

Light’s pupils tried to focus but only fluttered. “Our first meeting was...at To-Oh.”

”And what were your impressions then?”

Light whispered, “I thought you were strange. I thought you were beautiful.”

L looked up at the ceiling, a pain in his chest preventing him from looking at Light, now slightly drooling and unable to wipe it away. He stood up and took a tissue, wiping Light’s mouth. “You thought I was beautiful?”

”Yes.”

L returned to crouch in his chair, eyes unblinking. ”What did you think when I told you I was L?”

”I...was scared at first and then...I wanted to know you better. Get close to you. Work with you.”

”You wanted to join the Kira case, but why exactly?”

”I...admired you. It was an honor to be asked and I wanted to prove to you that...I was smart enough.”

”Smart enough for what?”

”My dream...to work beside you. Be a detective, solve cases like my father. Help you...as L.”

“And how did you feel when you came on to help?”

”Confident. Excited to be nearer to you. I felt...” Light swallowed hard but went on, “...attracted to you.”

”You were...attracted to me?” L was surprised, his eyes going even wider than their usual huge circumference.

”Yes.”

”But wasn’t Amane Misa your girlfriend?”

”In name only.”

”You don’t love her?”

Light looked away, “No.”

”Then why pretend?”

”She can see...names.” Light whimpered as the words were yanked from him.

L whispered, ”My name?”

Light jerked against the restraints, then slumped into them. Despair dripped from his voice, “Yes, she told me some time ago.”

“Then why am I alive?” L leaned forward in his crouch, his thumb pressed hard to his bottom lip.

Light felt panicked, the question wasn’t incriminating per se, but his answer would destroy him nonetheless. A whisper, “Because...I’m in love with you.”

The questions L had meant to ask: ‘Are you Kira?’...‘How do you kill?’...these stuck in the back of L’s throat as Light raised his unfocused eyes to L’s. He’s suffering, scared. He’s trying to fight this but he can’t. He’s waiting for the big questions that will end him. And he’s right. It is cheating.

A drop of sweat dripped from Light’s bangs hanging down in his face, and he struggled to regain control of his mind and fight the cheat. L saw fear flicker in Light’s eyes as their battle shifted from his favor, and as Light strained to lift his head, and managed to do it, L had never respected him more.

Light shuddered against the bindings, his breathing somewhat shallow. “You must have dosed me good, Ryuzaki.” He smiled sadly, confidence stripped away. “Aren’t you going to—“

”You’re in love with me?”

Light squeezed his eyes shut, breathing harder, “You make me say it again? I don’t want to be, but...yes.” The affirmation came out in broken pants.

L stared at him. These are Light’s truths. He’s fighting it. Being honest for...once in his life? But wasn’t it too much to ask for truth, given what we both are, who we are? I’ve lied too, Light. Lied my whole life too.

Light balled his fists and screamed at him, “Come on! Don’t draw it out to torture me! Just get it over with!”

L knew he could ask Light anything. He’d succumbed to the serum completely. “Light...” He got up and moved his chair closer, uncurling Light’s clenched hand into his own. And instead of asking about Kira, he asked Light to talk about his life, his dreams, the things he finds beautiful or scary or have broken his heart or cheered him. His childhood. His accomplishments. His failures. What he likes about L. What he loves.

”The way you stir your teacup so it never clinks the sides...

The way you look at me in the morning, right when you wake up, before you remember...

The way we challenge each other, even when we don’t have to, just because we can...

The way you chase me but don’t catch me, and I let you...

The flush on your cheeks when I touch you by accident...

These things, L. So many things.”

L gets to know the real Light, the one behind the mask he wears daily, over the afternoon. Putting off the big bomb questions, even though he knows he shouldn’t. He’d finally gotten the chance to know anything about Light but the Kira questions fade away in his mind. But eventually, L sees the truth serum is starting to wear off and Light is less groggy now, more guarded. L gets less and less out of him until finally Light has his mask back up completely.

Light’s pupils were sharply focused now, and he raises his head confidently. His breathing was normalized, and a tiny smirk started to form again on his lips. “Is the session over? Did you get everything you wanted?” He pulled his hand back into a fist, away from L’s, not remembering much about what he had said under the serum’s influence. But Light’s confidence was such that he felt he’d never compromise himself. And would L still be sitting here if I had? I’d be halfway to jail by now.

L sighed, considering what to do. He knew what he should have done. What he should do now. Why do I fear it, put it off? It’s what I’ve been working towards this whole time! And there may be very little time left.

Light wiggled impatiently, “Ryuzaki, are we through?”

L stood up and walked over to the table, taking a new syringe and pulling another dose of serum. Light shook his head rapidly and protested but L plunged the needle into his vein, and pushed the serum in.

“L, no...please stop...” The smirk felt away and the fear returned, and a new expression. Betrayal. Tears streamed down Light’s face this time, and he yelled, “Cheater!”

L pulled one more dose and crouched beside Light, watching his pupils become unfocused wide blackness again. “We’re going to be honest with each other, Light.” He injected the serum into his own arm. “Both of us.”

L knew they probably wouldn’t remember anything the other said after the drug wore off. No one was voicing questions. But the voice in L’s head that kept him up at night posed one instead.

He took Light’s hand, and told the truth.

#my writing #asks #anon #light yagami #l lawliet #lawlight

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missfangirll · 3 years ago

Text

Let my heart be still a moment

Fandom: SCI Mystery Rating: General Relationship: Zhan Yao/Bai Yutong, Zhan Yao & Zhao Jue Tags: Angst with a happy ending, Case fic Words: 3815 Summary: When Bai Yutong is seriously injured on a mission, Zhan Yao has to find the ones responsible, receiving some help along the way.

Read on AO3

For @the-sassiest-trixster: You requested SCI, “go ham”, so I really hope you like it, despite it being more bonding with Zhao Jue than love story 😅

- - - - -

“It’s a trap,” is the last thought Zhan Yao has before the explosion hits him and throws him against a wall, his legs giving out from the shock and he drops down to his hands and knees. He can’t hear anything past the ringing in his ears, and feels some liquid trickling down his neck, ruptured eardrums, he thinks dimly. His right wrist feels wrong when he tries to support himself to get up, and there is blood in his eye, probably on the whole side of his face. He tries to wipe at it, only to get more in his eyes, and curses silently. Trying to make out his surroundings, he carefully sits up on his knees, still slightly shaky from the impact. The room they just had entered, an unremarkable living room with a worn bottle-green sofa and a low coffee table, looks quite different than mere seconds ago: Now he can see the bomb that was hidden in the sofa, cables and wires sticking out in all directions, shreds of green and white upholstery floating in the air like giant snowflakes. Miraculously, nothing’s on fire, a fact he should be grateful for, he thinks, when he notices the heap of limbs next to him, and freezes.

He can see at first glance that Bai Yutong is heavily injured, having been the first to enter the room and taking the brunt of the explosion. His limbs are twisted in strange angles, his usually pristine white suit has dark stains that are rapidly growing, and what Zhan Yao can see from his face, the part that is not covered in blood, looks wrong. His eyes are closed, and for the first time since they entered the apartment, Zhan Yao is scared.

Carefully, slowly, he approaches Bai Yutong on hands and knees, while trying to keep his weight from his injured arm. Reaching him, he extends a hand to wipe the blood from the other’s face, then stops mid-movement and takes his hand instead. Holding his breath, he takes the other’s pulse, readjusting his shaking fingers.

Nothing.

No pulse.

Zhan Yao starts shaking uncontrollably, clutching Bai Yutong’s wrist to his chest, his breathing ragged and almost hysterical.

No. No, no, no.

- - - - -

His consciousness flickers, and he only vaguely recognises their team members, frantically buzzing around them, before everything turns black.

He awakes to a distant beeping sound and a blinding pain behind his right eye. With a groan he tries to sit up, only to be stopped by a gentle hand on his chest.

“Easy there, Professor.”

Opening his eyes doesn’t really help his disorientation, since everything on his right side stays in darkness, while everything on the left is painfully bright. Groaning again, he tries to raise his hand to his face, only to discover it won’t move. Before he can try again with more force, the hand moves to his shoulder.

“Don’t move too much, Professor. You have a shattered shoulder and a shrapnel in your right eye, not to mention the broken wrist, ulna, and cracked ribs.” The voice laughs drily. “You should take it slowly for a while.”

“Yu… Tong,” he manages to croak out, voice hoarse and rattling.

The voice stays silent for a while, then, a shaky inhale. “His injuries… are worse than yours,” it explains, and Zhan Yao feels his heart freeze over. Ignoring the searing pain he turns his head to face the person beside his bed.

Zhao Fu sighs, then removes his hand from the other’s shoulder. In an attempt to look stern, Zhan Yao furrows his brows. Another sigh, then a cup of water appears in his field of vision. Apparently the other doesn’t trust his coordination, because he holds the cup to Zhan Yao’s lips who empties it in three large gulps. The cup is removed, and Zhan Yao makes an impatient noise for the other to continue.

“I won’t lie to you, Professor,” Zhao Fu says finally, “It doesn’t look good. He has multiple broken bones: a fractured skull, both cheekbones are shattered, some broken ribs… But the internal injuries are what concerns the doctors most.” He inhales again, his composure stretched thin over the boiling abyss of fear and worry. “I don’t..” He breaks off, then starts again, his voice raspy, “I don’t know if he… If he….” He trails off, not able to finish that thought, and Zhan Yao turns his head away to hide his tears.

- - - - -

It takes him four days to get out of bed, and five more to leave the hospital for good. All this time, Bai Yutong’s state doesn’t change, and Zhan Yao finds that, after almost a week of sitting by his bedside holding his hand, he has no more tears to cry. His grief has been replaced by a burning anger, and he knows exactly what he is going to do with it.

His first message after leaving the hospital is to the team, calling them to the office this afternoon. The second is to Zhao Jue.

Their relationship to the older man has developed into a strange kind of truce over the last months, and while he still doesn’t trust him, he knows what Zhao Jue is capable of - which is exactly why he asks him to meet.

Walking up the winding stairs to the loft always feels like climbing a lighthouse or an ancient castle, were it not for the strange paintings on the wall that only worsen his headache with their spiralling, whirling patterns.

Zhao Jue seems to be informed about the situation, since he comments neither on the eye-patch Zhan Yao is still wearing over his damaged right eye nor on the sling on his left arm, or his slightly limping gait, for that matter. He just nods in greeting and gestures towards a sofa, resuming to pour tea into two cups, then following Zhan Yao to the seat.

Only after they have finished the tea in silence and Zhao Jue has refilled their cups, he speaks. Clearing his throat, he asks simply, “Who?”

Zhan Yao exhales slowly, thinking what he can safely tell the other who is technically a wanted serial killer without compromising any police secrets, then shrugs inwardly and begins to talk. He tells him about the abduction case that had shocked the whole city into frantic activity, about their only lead being a shady witness, waiting for his own prosecution for human trafficking in a city prison. He had offered to give them information in exchange for a reduced sentence, and his leads had sounded reasonable, nothing indicating he was lying or setting them up. He had given them a name which in turn had led them to the apartment. Now it is obvious it has been a trap from the beginning, but who is behind it all, that Zhan Yao isn’t sure of. The witness didn’t look intelligent or influential enough to pull such a maneuver from a prison cell, which only leaves someone directly involved in the abduction.

Zhao Jue listens to these explanations without a word, only now and then stirring his tea cup with his ring finger. After Zhan Yao finishes, he stays silent for a while, looking thoughtfully at the younger man. Zhan Yao has laid out his cards, he thinks, now he waits for the other to show his hand.

Zhao Jue clears his throat again. “What do you want to do?” His voice sounds soft, gentle, betraying nothing of the steel Zhan Yao knows to lie underneath.

He almost shrugs, then remembers his shoulder and winces slightly, noticing how something like worry crosses over the other’s face, before he resumes his indifferent mask. It’s a good question, however. The next natural step would be to interrogate the witness again, to get him to spill some names, places, anything that could help them pin down the ones behind the bomb. The latter would be another lead to investigate, but it has already been transferred to the department that deals with explosives - and has a real lab, not that there is anything wrong with Gongsun and his experiments, but even his enthusiasm can’t replace a centrifuge. The problem is, though, that interrogating the witness-turned-suspect a second time has been the first thing Zhao Fu did after leaving the hospital, and unfortunately to no avail. The man had simply refused to talk, stating he already had helped them and didn’t know anything about a trap or a bomb. Thus, all their leads have gone cold.

Sighing, Zhan Yao shakes his head. “I don’t know,” he admits. Zhao Jue raises an eyebrow, but stays silent while Zhan Yao continues, “I could try interrogate the witness again, but the chances that he talks to me are--”

“He will talk.”

Zhan Yao startles at the interruption and closes his mouth with a snap, staring at the other.

“He will talk,” Zhao Jue repeats, and it’s with a finality that makes Zhan Yao shiver involuntarily.

- - - - -

He does talk.

It takes twenty minutes until Zhao Jue emerges from the interview room with two names scribbled on a yellow post-it note. The suspect is still sitting at the table, pressing his hands to his ears, rocking back and forth, mouthing silently. Zhan Yao remembers Bai Yutong’s still form in a hospital bed and doesn’t feel sorry.

Zhao Jue wordlessly hands the note to Jiang Ling, then grabs Zhan Yao’s uninjured shoulder and steers him towards his office. Closing the door behind him, Zhao Jue lets go and takes a step back, crossing his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrow in a silent invitation to talk. Zhan Yao bristles, but before he can snap at the other, a call from outside draws their attention back to the case.

“Professor, we found something!”

Without a word, Zhan Yao rushes past the other man who follows him after a second’s hesitation. He isn’t sure if he heard the other sigh, but ignores this detail for now. On the large screen, the two names Zhao Jue got from the suspect are displayed, next to the persons’ photos and information. Chen Shen, the left file reads. Fifty-three, suspected to be involved in the local drug trade, divorced, his daughter studies drama in London. The right side of the screen is almost empty, Zhan Yao notes with a frown. The woman in the blurry photograph looks a bit over forty, wearing a suit jacket and, oddly enough, a tie. Apart from her name, there are no further details. Zhan Yao turns to his team, a question on his lips, when Wang Shao explains, “Her real name is Zhang Qi,” and Zhan Yao whirls around to stare at him. That name is familiar, well-known in all law enforcement, for being the supposed head of a trafficking ring that specialises in little girls. There has never been so much as a rumour to tie her to anything, nothing that could be proven, and police and criminals alike are equally afraid and astonished.

Zhao Fu is the first to break the silence. “If she is involved in our abduction,” he says slowly, massaging the bridge of his nose, “then the girl is likely out of the country by now.” The rest of the team nod in begrudging agreement.

A chuckle from the door startles all of them, and several chairs turn around swiftly to face the intruder who adds cheekily, “Seems I’ve arrived at the perfect moment.” Stepping into the room, Zhao Zhen reveals three large boxes which he carefully deposits on the nearest desk, grinning widely. “I think you all need some sugar before you decide anything important,” he declares, and Zhan Yao’s heart clenches at the sight of his team, who give him sideway glances, smiling hesitantly. He isn’t the only one who worries, he realises, and forces his face into a smile. “Alright,” he nods, “let’s have some sugar before we continue.”

The donuts do help, and after a few minutes, Jiang Ling approaches Zhan Yao with wide eyes and powdered sugar on her cheeks. “Professor,” she exclaims, “I just had an idea how to find the evil lady.” Zhan Yao looks expectantly at her, only to receive a headshake. “It would probably take longer to explain it,” she shrugs apologetically, then adds, “I’ll just try it now, if that’s okay,” and Zhan Yao can only nod.

Soundlessly, Zhao Jue steps out of a corner and Zhan Yao startles. He still isn’t used to his right side being blind, and the other moving without a sound doesn’t help. He almost reprimands him, when the older man grips his shoulder once more, this time not to move, but to make him stay and listen. Zhan Yao shuts his mouth with a snap.

“You should go,” Zhao Jue says quietly, and Zhan Yao doesn’t have to ask where. Knowing the others will call him, he just nods, and turns to his team, but before he can form a word, Ma Han makes a shooing motion at him and sighs. “We can deal with this, Professor,” she says, sounding a tiny bit impatient, something Zhan Yao would definitely address if he had any brain capacity left for it. So he just nods again, and is out of the building and in a taxi in less than two minutes.

Bai Yutong’s state hasn’t changed in the two days Zhan Yao didn’t visit him, nor has he moved. Zhan Yao stands in the open door, looking at his mouse, wondering if he has ever seen him this still. Carefully, slowly, he approaches to sit in a plastic chair next to the bed, taking the other’s cool hand in his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

On the way here he thought about what he might tell his mouse, about the case, about the progress, but now that he sits here he finds himself not able to speak. Silently, he caresses Bai Yutong’s hand with his fingertips, then his face, then bends down to lean his forehead against the other’s, closing his eyes.

I miss you, mouse. Come back to me.

- - - - -

His ringing phone disturbs the quiet and for a moment he feels disoriented, misplaced, before he clumsily fumbles for it and takes the call without looking at the name.

“Let’s have lunch,” Zhao Jue says without introduction, and Zhan Yao is too stunned to protest. “The diner at the corner, opposite the park. Ten minutes,” he says, and hangs up. Zhan Yao stares at his phone screen for a second, before he scrambles to his feet, presses a kiss to Bai Yutong’s cheek, and heads downstairs.

When he arrives at the diner, Zhao Jue is seated in a booth in a dark corner, a steaming cup in front of him. Zhan Yao slides into the seat opposite him, careful of his injured shoulder. He notices that the other has chosen their seats so that Zhan Yao’s left side faces the room, his blind spot towards the wall.

When the waiter comes to take their order, he mindlessly lists a few things he remembers to have liked, then fiddles with the menu for a while. Zhao Jue gives him a pointed look, but doesn’t comment. When their food arrives, they eat in silence, Zhan Yao trying to savor the taste.

It is only after another cup of tea that Zhao Jue asks, “How is he?”, and Zhan Yao feels his shoulders slump.

“Unchanged,” he answers eventually, not able to fend off the image of his mouse’s lifeless face, and shivers.

“And how are you?,” the other asks, and Zhan Yao blinks at him in confusion. Since it has been apparent that his injuries weren’t as bad as Bai Yutong’s, every and all attention had been on the latter, even Zhan Yao’s own, so it takes him a moment to really parse that question. “I will be fine,” he offers after a while, because it is the truth. The doctors were optimistic that he would be able to use his eye again, his shoulder is healing, as well as all the countless other minor injuries and cuts he has sustained. He will be fine, eventually. It’s not important.

“That’s not what I asked,” Zhao Jue observes, and Zhan Yao freezes, mouth open in an aborted response. “I asked,” the other clarifies with a scrutinizing gaze at Zhan Yao, “how you are. Not how you will be.”

Zhan Yao blinks slowly at him, then closes his mouth. “I..,” he begins, then pauses. How is he? His head hasn’t stopped hurting since the moment he woke up in the hospital bed, his left arm isn’t usable at the moment, which makes getting dressed in the morning a complicated ordeal. But not being able to see is the worst, he realises, no matter how optimistic the doctors are, no matter how much worse Bai Yutong’s injuries are. He sighs and slumps further into his seat, leaning slightly against the wall. “Not that fantastic,” he admits. “I have had a headache for a week and my arm is pretty much useless. But I’ll live,” he tries to make light of it, when Zhao Jue reaches over and presses his thumb to Zhan Yao’s temple, his index finger on his forehead. Before he can protest, the searing pain dulls to a numb throbbing behind his temple, and he shudders in relief. “How..,” he starts, but Zhao Jue just hums, pulling his hand back.

Before Zhan Yao can respond in any way other than stare at the man opposite him, his phone rings. When he ends the call, Jiang Ling having told him she has news, he finds Zhao Jue has already paid for their meals and waits at the door, silent as always. Hurrying after him, Zhan Yao realises, not for the first time, how little of the other man’s motives he really understands.

Jiang Ling has earned her bonus this time, and beams at Zhan Yao when he tells her that. In fact, her discovery is worth a dozen bonuses. Zhan Yao understands only a third of her enthusiastic explanations, but it’s enough to be deeply impressed by the nerdy woman. She somehow managed to link a delivery of expensive, imported bath oils to an office building in the middle of nowhere, realising nobody would take a bath at their workplace - only certain kinds of workers, Wang Shao helpfully adds, which earns him a slap upside the head from Zhao Fu - and then finding the actual purpose of the building and its owner’s name: Zhang Qi.

Zhan Yao is delighted to finally have a clue, but his eagerness is dampened by Wang Shao’s question. “And what exactly are we going to do now?”

Of all the people in the room, Zhan Yao wouldn’t have expected Zhao Jue to step forward.

“I might have an idea.”

His idea is, even Ma Han has to grudgingly admit, actually quite reasonable. They have to investigate the office building, that much is certain, but the only one to have a chance to stay undetected - and be fine in case they don’t, but that is a detail no one mentions - is in fact Zhao Jue. So, some hours of preparation later, Zhan Yao, Zhao Fu and Zhao Jue are crammed together in an SCI observation van, the older man in a bright orange pest-control uniform.

“Remember,” Zhan Yao begins for yet another time, when the freshly-made exterminator directs a grin at him that makes him uneasy. Nodding, he says seriously, “I don’t know who you are and what the SCI is,” as if this is what they have been talking about for an hour. Horrified, Zhan Yao tries to interject, when Zhao Jue grabs his costume props, opens the door and hops down. With a wink to the other two, he marches off towards the office building.

Zhao Fu groans, hiding his face in his hands. “I really hope this wasn’t a mistake. The boss is going to murder us if this goes wrong.”

Zhan Yao nods silently.

Before they left the SCI, he had taken Zhao Jue aside, determined to get some real answers out of the other, but all he had received was a grin and another question, asked with sparkling eyes and quiet amusement in his voice.

“Do you trust me?”

Zhan Yao hadn’t had it in him to deny it.

When it’s all over, Zhan Yao doesn’t ask how Zhao Jue managed to get past fourteen heavily armed guards, doesn’t want to know, but somehow the other did, and he found the abducted girl. Next to twenty-seven others who have gone missing from the whole country during the last months.

When the storm has calmed, the girls have been brought to the hospital and the guards inside arrested - all of them suspiciously pliant and agreeable, but nobody had asked, and Zhan Yao sure as hell wouldn’t mention it either - Chief Bao holds a press conference, obviously enjoying the spotlight on himself and on his department. Zhan Yao tries to stay in the background. It doesn’t feel right to stand there alone, so he doesn’t at all.

They can’t exactly tell the media that the one having solved the case is a wanted serial killer who recently escaped prison, so Zhan Yao is for once glad for the Chief’s need for recognition. On the way back, Zhao Jue looks at him with a knowing gaze, but doesn’t say anything, and Zhan Yao tries to focus on something else.

With the older man’s help - and probably more than just a bit of coercion from Chief Bao to make sure the SCI were the ones to interrogate them - the culprits arrested in the office building spill their secrets surprisingly easily. They all name Zhang Qi as the mastermind behind the whole operation, giving even more names and addresses that were used to move the girls around, providing so many details that Bai Chi brings in a whole box of new ledgers to write in after the first afternoon. It’s a day later that one of them admits to building a bomb and hiding it in a sofa in an empty apartment, all of this on Zhang Qi’s orders.

After Zhang Qi and her inner circle are arrested, Chief Bao invites all of them to dinner, even Zhao Jue and his nephew, who both actually show up, even if one seems significantly more delighted than the other. Zhan Yao observes in silence, meeting Zhao Jue’s gaze over the animated talks and happy atmosphere at the table. He nods in acknowledgement, and the other smiles slightly.

- - - - -

Bai Yutong wakes a day later, in the late morning, the sun gently caressing his features. The first thing he does is to reach out to Zhan Yao, weaving his hand into the other’s hair and pulling him in. Their foreheads resting against each other, Zhan Yao takes his first deep breath in weeks.

#sci谜案集 #sci mystery #sci #zhan yao #bai yutong #yaoyutong #zhao jue #my writing #angst with a happy ending

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sluttyten · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet Like Honey || part iii - finale

sweet like honey || part i. // sweet like honey || part ii.

summary: being in a newly labelled polyamorous relationship with two idols is no easy thing, especially after what it took to get you to this point. but you have to make it work. you will. you do. the love is great, the sex is greater, and the three of you together is incomparable.

length: 16,014

pairing: johnny x reader x seonghwa

tags: threesome, daddy kink, phone sex, voyeurism, gay sex, anal, blowjobs, safe sex, jealousy, some dom/sub, etc.

Despite your promises, the security and happiness in your newly cemented relationship with Johnny and Seonghwa, you still found yourself surrounded by handsome idols at work. They no longer caught your attention quite in the same way as they had prior to that little ménage à quatre with Chan, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t catch their attention or that you didn’t occasionally still catch your imagination beginning to wander.

Seonghwa was there the day that you almost slipped up.

Ateez, MonstaX, and Pentagon were only three among the groups that were appearing on the show that day, and you were eternally grateful when you were given girl groups instead of either of the groups of the guys you’d hooked up with or your boyfriend’s group.

But since MonstaX was there, that meant Im Changkyun was too.

The moment he laid eyes on you, he winked. At the first chance he had to speak with you, he sidled up beside you in the hallway outside their waiting room, and he asked, “Still with those two boyfriends? Tired of them yet? I still think I could’ve fucked you better than either of them.” He leans closer, smiling at you. “We can probably sneak away, finish what we started back then.”

You almost let his smile intoxicate you, his proximity overwhelming you. Changkyun has this easy seduction to him that almost sucks you in, but then you remember Johnny and Seonghwa, and once more the way that Changkyun is looking at you starts to feel gross.

Before you have the chance to respond in any way to his advances, a shadow falls over you, a tall shape appearing in the corner of your vision before stepping even closer, nearly in front of you.

Seonghwa.

“You’re pretty cocky.” Seonghwa says to his senior, using honorific language, but lacing each syllable with contempt. And then to you, in a voice so completely opposite the one he’d just used on Changkyun, Seonghwa asks, “Is he bothering you?”

Changkyun smirks. “Is this him, then? The other one?”

You put a hand on Seonghwa’s arm. He backs off, hovering just beside you, but addressing the other man, “I think you should go. She would probably appreciate it if you would stop harassing her at work. Or any time.”

Changkyun does leave them, but only because Kihyun pops his head through the doorway of their waiting room, looking for him.

To make matters even worse, Seonghwa’s still standing there talking to you when, just a few moments later, Wooseok passes by with two of his members. He looks at you for a long moment, and you let your eyes follow him down the hallway.

Your mind wanders to Wooseok’s large hands, the way he’d held you and been gentle and hit just the right spots inside you when you fucked. Even with Seonghwa, one of your two current boyfriends, standing beside you, your mind slips toward fantasizing about your ex-lover.

You can tell your period is coming up. Lately you’ve been ridiculously horny, a sure sign of your impending period, and you’ve been constantly wishing that at least one of your boyfriends would be able to lend you his fingers or tongue or dick to get you off. When neither of them are available, you find yourself staring up at your ceiling, imagining Johnny’s lips burning on your skin, or Seonghwa’s skilled tongue licking you up, Johnny’s fine fingers curled around his dick as he teases you with it.

But right now, with the warmth of Seonghwa beside you, and the lingering sight of Wooseok’s tall, broad form, you once more think about Wooseok and his big dick and that night you’d shared together. You wish he would’ve been down for the foursome, it would’ve been so nice. Not that Chan wasn’t.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t notice Seonghwa glancing around to make sure the two of you are unobserved.

And then he grabs your face, his fingers and thumb pressing in on either side of your face, cheeks squished and lips involuntarily pursed. Your attention returns to him, gaze flashing to meet his eyes. Seonghwa’s eyes are liquid, molten jealousy.

“What the fuck were you thinking about, kitten? Daydreaming about Wooseok’s cock again?” He tutted disapprovingly. “I’m going to have to tell Johnny about this.”

You grab at his wrist.

A door down the hallway opens, loud voices and laughter spilling out. Seonghwa releases you and takes a half step back, putting a somewhat respectable distance between the two of you, not that the man passing by hazards even a glance at the two of you. You still cling desperately to his wrist, and as soon as the man is out of earshot, you whine.

“Seonghwa, please don’t. Don’t tell him.” You squeeze, stepping closer, not caring who sees as you press up against him. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just for you.”

He turns his head away from your attempt at a kiss. He shakes you off, and you step back, heart sinking as your boyfriend moves completely away from you.

“Get to work. You insist on keeping this job even though we could both provide well enough for you. You’d better work like a good girl, and maybe then I’ll consider not telling Johnny.” Seonghwa looks you up and down once more and then walks away, leaving you feeling like you’ve disappointed him deeply.

You’re so wrapped up in your worries, that you barely comprehend the two girl groups that you work with. The day’s filming passes in a blur, and then you’re off the clock, lingering outside beside a coworker as he finishes his cigarette. You just stare down at your phone, at the group message you have with your boyfriends.

“Love life troubles?” Your friend asks, blowing his smoke out in a steady stream. “I feel bad I never asked, by the way, but how did that go? When I snuck you Johnny from NCT’s number? Did you hook up?”

You fidget with your phone. “Yeah.”

He nods, doesn’t press you for more as he takes a drag. “It’s tough hooking up with idols. I met a guy, did I tell you? He’s great, really sweet and kinda naive, but that’s cute. I like him like that.”

“An idol?” You ask. He squints a bit as he lets the smoke flow from between his lips again, as if considering whether to tell you the truth or not, but at last he nods a confirmation. “Is it serious?”

“Is it serious with Johnny?” He nods down at your phone, which you realize has just lit up with a message which is clearly labeled as being from Johnny ❤️ .

You slip your phone into your pocket without reading the message. “Don’t change the subject.”

He smiles around his cigarette.

Neither of you answer the questions posed, and when he drops the butt of the cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his toe, the conversation is completely closed, and you go your own ways.

You check the message from Johnny as you’re on your way home.

“I’m already at your place,” reads his message.

You feel an odd warmth in your belly. It’s a sweet comfort to think of coming home to your boyfriend already there, probably warming up his spot on your sofa, getting comfortable.

Lately both Johnny and Seonghwa have gotten comfortable enough to come to your place when you’re not there. Which has led, on more than one occasion, to you walking through your front door and finding your boyfriends tangled in a compromising position, usually making out, but once or twice with their hands down each other’s pants. You gave each of them a key to your apartment, so they can come over any time they like, and since the three of you declared a label for your relationship, they’ve really put those keys to use.

You shoot back a reply “ok I’m on my way!”

When you’re standing on the step of your building, you see that Johnny read the message but never replied. Odd. He rarely ever leaves you on read, even if you and Seonghwa do it to him all the time.

At the door of your apartment, you hear nothing from inside. Not the buzz of voices from the TV or anything, so you unlock the door and step inside. Only the light in your small kitchen is on, giving the place just a bit of light, enough to see that you don’t see Johnny anywhere, and instantly your heart rate spikes.

“Johnny?” You call.

He doesn’t answer.

You step out of your shoes, sit your purse and keys nearby, and when you look up again, you nearly jump out of your skin. A small, startled noise leaves your lips.

Johnny’s leaning in the doorway, his pale figure standing out against the darkness behind him.

“You scared me.” You press a hand to your chest. “Are you okay? Why are you just sitting here in the dark? And you didn’t answer my message.” You walk frrther inside, pulling your phone out of your pocket to toss over onto the sofa, pulling the belt from the waist of your skirt and you drop it to the floor. “Have you eaten? I’m hungry, we can call Seonghwa over, make a date night of it?”

Johnny jerks just head. “Seonghwa’s already here too.”

And then, to your utter surprise, the younger of your boyfriends appears from behind Johnny.

“He had some interesting stories for me, baby.” Johnny finally moves out of the doorway, coming over toward you. “Said I.M. was flirting with you today, and you did little to nothing to shut him down. And then Wooseok walked by, and you were almost drooling at the memory of his dick. Are you still a slut, baby? You’ve got both of us, but we’re not enough? You want to go back and try out those two again? Maybe some others?”

You start to shake your head, open your mouth to tell him, no, the two of them are all you really need.

But Johnny is then right in front of you. You can tell from the way he’s looking at you, the way he lifts a hand to stroke your cheek, tonight isn’t going to be relaxing for you. It’s time to face your punishment.

“You think you can still look at other guys?” Johnny asks you, his voice taking on a sweet tone. “I ought to show you who you belong to as you’ve obviously forgotten. Your pussy belongs to who?”

You reach for him, curl your fingers in his shirt. “You. You and Seonghwa.” Your gaze flicks past him to the other man.

“That’s right, baby. Me and Seonghwa.”

You let Johnny manhandle you, moving you over to your kitchen table, bending you forward over it as he flips up the skirt you’d worn to work today. You squirm as he drags your panties harshly down your legs, leaving them tangled at your ankles. With your bare ass exposed, you feel both Johnny and Seonghwa staring at you. Johnny drags his fingers between your legs, finding you already dripping wet, so horny lately that just this few moments have gotten you incredibly aroused and wet for him.

You look up when Seonghwa steps into your line of view. He curls his hand over the back of a kitchen chair, looking down at you coolly.

“You told me you wouldn’t tell him if I was a good girl.” You pout up at him. “I was, Seonghwa. You know I’m always a good girl for you!”

He just curls his hand tighter over the back of the chair and pulls it away from the table, moving it back enough to give him a good position to watch from.

“We’re each going to fuck you,” Johnny tells you. “Gonna fuck you so you won’t forget whose you are. Hwa, I think you should go first.”

You turn to look back over your shoulder, to see as Johnny steps aside and gestures at your spread legs, open for Seonghwa. And when Seonghwa leaves the chair and walks over, Johnny clasps the other man by the back of his neck. Their eyes meet, and they silently communicate something that you don’t understand. And then Seonghwa leans in and brushes his lips briefly with Johnny’s.

Johnny repeats the move before gently pushing Seonghwa away towards you bent over the table like that.

Seonghwa lays a hand flat on your back, pushing you down so you can’t lift up at all. Your cheek presses against the surface of the table, and you hear the clink of Seonghwa dropping his pants, kicking them away. He also strokes his fingers between your legs, making a satisfied noise at how wet he finds you.

“Gonna use your pretty pussy, kitten.” Seonghwa tells you.

You don’t care what he does. You just want to be touched, preferably to feel him inside you, fucking you good and deep. You want Johnny to do the same afterwards. You want them to reassert their claim on you, remind you that although you’ve fucked Wooseok and Chan and nearly fucked Changkyun, now you are only theirs.

Seonghwa doesn’t disappoint.

He lines his cock up with your entrance, and thrusts into you smoothly. You moan, feeling at last that hunger you’ve felt constantly for the last few days satiated again briefly now. Seonghwa grips at your skirt, gathering it in his fist to hold onto as he pulls back just to bring his hips smack forward against yours again. You can feel the table rocking, but you don’t care if it breaks on its fragile legs.

You like the way that he’s using you for just his own pleasure, fucking you a bit harder any time you moan out “daddy.” And the way that Johnny’s just watching the pair of you, it reminds you of the early days of you hooking up with either of them, when you used to fantasize about one of them watching as the other fucked you. When you turn your head to look at Johnny, you find that he’s hungrily observing the pair of you.

Seonghwa’s fingers quickly twist through your hair, tugging. “Don’t look at him. I’m the one fucking you, kitten.”

“Yeah, Daddy,” you purr as Seonghwa snaps his hips forward roughly a few quick times. “You’re fucking me so good, show me who I belong to.”

Seonghwa, who has always proclaimed that he doesn’t have that possessiveness or jealousy that Johnny does, shows quite the opposite right then, eagerly taking the chance to show you that you belong to him and to Johnny. You always play along when he tells you he doesn’t like the possessive stuff like Johnny. But you see the jealous gleam when you’re hanging on Johnny, or when you’ve given yourself to those other men.

He drags your head back by the fistful of hair, fucking you harshly. You grab at the table, wishing that you had anything to hold onto, to dig your nails into, but they just scratch over the surface as you cry out for Seonghwa. He releases his hold on your hair, and you press your cheek against the table once more.

“Your tight little pussy, sweetheart, feels so good,” he groans, lowering himself over you to keep the words quiet enough that Johnny can’t quite hear them. “You’re going to make me cum. Gonna leave your pussy a mess for Johnny to take.”

Seonghwa snaps his hips forward roughly once more, cumming deep inside you, then shallowly thrusting before he pulls completely out.

You twist your head to the side to look at him. He rubs and taps his cock between your legs, palms your ass, and moans softly at the sight of his cum dripping from you. And then he brings his hand down against your bottom once more and takes a step back.

He says, “You can take her.”

You stay exactly where you are, bent over the table, the edge of it digging against your hips and belly. You feel Seonghwa’s cum, your pussy throbbing with your own need for release. And you wait for Johnny to come take you.

A few moments pass and at last you hear him stand from the chair, his footsteps treading across the floor to you. You wait, eagerly, to feel his fat cock stuffing you, but instead you hear a quiet thud as his knees hit the floor. You feel his breath against all the sensitive places, and then, at last, his lips and his tongue.

“Johnny, oh God!” You cry out as his tongue flicks between your legs, gathering up Seonghwa’s cum. He cleans you up just a bit, and right as you’re getting into it, trying to wiggle back against his face, Johnny stands up. His erection fits right up against you without going inside you, and he strokes the back of your head.

“Feel good, baby?” Johnny rubs against you. “You want to cum on my mouth?”

You whine and nod. “Yes. Felt so nice.”

“Yeah, tasted pretty sweet. You and Seonghwa mixed together.” He nudges the tip of his cock against your entrance, such a tease. “I know how much you wish it was Seonghwa eating you out, you love his tongue. But he’s been giving me lessons, honey, an intimate lesson practicing our oral skills, you know.”

You moan, trying to push your hips back to get him inside you.

“Do you want to hear more about it?” Johnny asks, and his fingers slip between your legs too, gliding over your clit in a way that has you twitching. “Or do you want to watch us? You haven’t seen us like that yet have you? Seonghwa all spread out, hard and dripping on my tongue, moaning and being such a good boy.”

At last, Johnny slides his cock into you.

He fucks you until you feel sloppy, all wet from Seonghwa’s cum and from your own wetness. Each dip of his cock inside you makes you more and more needy, his fingers on your clit sending whimpers and whines from your lips. Johnny fucks you with long, slow thrusts, dragging it out, carrying you on slow waves of pleasure.

Johnny’s still taking it slow when you start really squirming, trying to get him to give it to you how you want it. His hand comes down on your ass.

“Baby, steady.” He holds firmly to your hips. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me.”

Not that you’re a selfish lover--you have on multiple occasions focused on just giving your boyfriends pleasure--but at this moment all you want is to cum, to have that horniness relieved that you’ve been suffering from no matter how much they attempt to satiate you. You cry as Johnny thrusts into you at his own, torturous pace.

Johnny presses the heels of his palms into your ass, pinning you down flat, unable to move.

“Such a pretty little sex toy, baby.” Johnny coos at you. “Letting Seonghwa and I put our claim on you, letting us use you like this. Because you belong to us, right?”

“Right. I’m yours.” Your cheek slides wetly against the table’s surface, a tear rolls from your eye, crying from desperation. “I’m yours, and you should give me an orgasm.”

“We’ve given you over a dozen orgasms in the last week,” Seonghwa suddenly speaks up. “Horny kitten, what are we to do with you?”

The whine that comes out of you then finally drives Johnny to fuck you harder. It’s more of a wail than a whine.

Johnny pounds into you, such a force that the table shudders, creaks. You hear a faint sound under it all that honestly sounds like cracking. He pinches your clit between his fingers, massaging it in time with his thrusts, and as you cry out again, Seonghwa covers your mouth with his hand, muffling your sounds that are loud enough to disturb your neighbors.

You cum around Johnny, and at last sink relaxed against the table.

But Johnny’s not done yet.

He pulls you up, turning you around in his arms, sitting your ass on the edge of the table, and he brings your arms and legs around him, holding you securely in his arms. You tuck your head against his shoulder, mumbling meaningless sounds as he finally buries himself inside you and cums.

“I love you,” you sigh. “I love you, Johnny. I love you, Seonghwa.” You twist your head around and loosen one of your arms from around Johnny so you can reach out to Seonghwa. “Both of you are all I need.”

“Exactly right.” Johnny tells you, kissing you quickly on the cheek.

He pulls out of you, and as you tug your skirt back into place, drag your panties up your legs again, Seonghwa comes around to take Johnny’s place. He cups your face between his hands, stroking his thumbs along your cheeks, wiping away the damp trails of your tears. “You are a good girl, kitten. I really do hate to see your eyes wandering, though.”

“I thought you’re not jealous and possessive?” You ask, tangling your legs around his hips.

“Maybe you’re changing me,” Seonghwa suggests. “You and Johnny both are.” He looks over at Johnny who’s now moving around your kitchen, opening the refrigerator and the cabinets, drawing out items. “If I caught anyone looking at him for too long, who’s to say what I’d do.”

Johnny snorts out a laugh. “If you think you’d dom me, Hwa, I’d like to see you try.”

Seonghwa takes that as a challenge, breaking away from you to come up behind Johnny, wrap his arms around his neck, playfully they wrestle around in the kitchen until Johnny backs Seonghwa against one of the cabinets, and the younger of the two whimpers in pain as the handle of the door digs into his back. Johnny stops, pets Seonghwa’s hair, then backs off to go back to what he was doing before.

“Are you making dinner for us?” You slide from the table.

“Mhmm.” Johnny nods. “Wanna help, baby?”

So he passes you a knife from your own knife block, and instructs you to start slicing the vegetables he’s pulled out from the refrigerator. Seonghwa runs out to go buy something to drink from the store a few minutes walk away from your apartment.

And hours later, after dinner’s done, after Seonghwa is tipsily flushed and feeling cuddly, Johnny declares that it’s time for them to go home. Seonghwa definitely has to work again bright and early tomorrow, and Johnny knows that someone has to get him safely home. You don’t want them to leave, but you understand it. So you kiss them both before they walk out your door together.

It’s exactly two days later, you’ve just gotten home from work and have heated up some leftover takeout you found in your refrigerator, just sat down to eat and scroll through SNS, when you see what information has the internet buzzing.

In order to keep up on the information about the groups you deal with at your job, you follow various update accounts on twitter for many different groups. You’ve seen before the way that fans get excited when two idols from different groups (or sometimes multiple idols from different groups) hang out together outside of being on stage together at a music show.

So everyone is currently buzzing about the fact that NCT’s Johnny and Ateez’s Seonghwa were photographed together the other night. You scroll through all of these images, though you’re not sure which were taken by sasaengs and which were taken by casual fans who just happened to see them. There are a wide variety of angles, many of them cropped closer from the original images, all of them depicting Johnny and Seonghwa walking down a street together with the hoods of their jackets pulled up, laughing and talking and eating the street food that you’d heard Seonghwa talking about as they’d walked out your door.

Mostly all the comments you see are people curious about how and why and when they became friends. Then, the farther you scroll, the more you see people suddenly making sense of a few things: Seonghwa posting dance covers of some of NCT’s songs, a few clips from several livestreams Johnny had done where he’d sung little snippets from Ateez songs. You even saw a clip from ages back when their promotion schedules first overlapped after you first began hooking up with him, when they’d both been on stage and there was a certain look in their eyes when they met. None of the fans knew what it meant, but looking at the clip now you knew that that look meant they’d already made their plan to come fuck you later that night. And what a wonderful night that had been.

As soon as all of these fans know that your boyfriends are friends, suddenly they keep getting questions about it in their livestreams. And from knowledge of their friendship, the imaginations of fans are inspired.

You’re visiting Johnny at his dorm, stretched out on his bed looking at your phone while he finishes talking with Taeyong about something. Haechan’s sitting at his desk in the corner of the room, headphones on as he plays a video game. So, to entertain yourself, you’re once more scrolling through Twitter, looking at not only the update accounts, but some of the fans you follow as well, and you’re startled to find that there are now people making fanfiction about your boyfriends, shipping them together.

When Johnny comes into the room, flopping down into the bed, wrapping his limbs around you to hold you tightly, you show your phone to him. “Look at this.”

Johnny takes your phone, eyes scanning what you’ve just found, a thread of tweets talking about the two of them. He laughs. “Not accurate. Imagine Seonghwa domming me? I know you’ve not really seen us at it, pretty girl, but trust me, there’s no way.”

You glance at Haechan in the corner, making sure that he’s still focused on his game when you ask Johnny, “So have the two of you fully had sex?”

You can’t imagine that they had. Seonghwa and you shared nearly everything, and for him to not tell you that he and Johnny had actually fucked instead of just making out and jerking each other off, that seemed like a big secret to keep from you.

Johnny squeezes you more closely in his arms. “No, we haven’t. I mean, we’ve talked about it, but you know how he is. Hwa’s still getting used to all this.”

That’s definitely true. Seonghwa has slowly been growing more and more comfortable with how he feels about Johnny.

Johnny, on the other hand, is bold, but not pushy. He makes his moves and waits for Seonghwa to accept them. Johnny makes it clear that he’s already confident in what he feels, he’s all in with you and Seonghwa, showing equal amounts of attention and affection to both of you.

“Don’t worry.” Johnny kisses your forehead. “When we do anything, we’ll let you know. If you’re not there to witness it.”

You twist around and ask, “Don’t you just want your first time together to be just the two of you?”

“Whatever makes Seonghwa more comfortable.” Johnny’s lips touch against your ear as he tells you, “He’d probably love to have you sitting on his face while I play with his ass, put him a bit at ease.”

You squirm around, the heat of his words taking root in your belly. Your gaze flicks again to Haechan in the corner of the room. “Johnny....” Your tone is warning.

“Or, I saw this video the other day, well, actually someone sent it to me.” His eyes avoid yours, avoiding the question of who sent him the video, and instead he says, “The position was so hot, and I kept thinking about fucking Seonghwa like that. Do you want to see it?”

You whine and push at Johnny’s chest. “Don’t try to make me horny. For one thing, your roommate is right there. And also, I’m on my period, so even if he wasn’t here we wouldn’t be able to do anything.”

Johnny hums and moans softly, dips his face into the soft warmth of your throat, kissing you there. You clutch at him even as you know that you should push him away, but Johnny just gets you started throbbing, a large mark sucked into the sensitive skin of your throat, and then he backs off with a satisfied smirk.

“I hate you,” you gasp. “Maybe I should’ve gone over to Seonghwa, he wouldn’t tease the fuck out of me like this. He’s always nice to me when I’m on my period.”

“Gives you cuddles and chocolate?” Johnny asks, putting his hand on your stomach. “Does he baby you through your cramps? What do you want me to do? What do you want now, huh?” Again he wraps himself entirely around you, cradling you in his arms against his chest, his legs entwined with yours. He looks at you, his gaze so intense. “You want attention, baby? How are you feeling?”

His tone, somewhat patronizing but in the best way, puts you right into a needy mood. You do want his attention, you like the way he dotes on you, especially right then with every ounce of his attention on you, ready to please.

Johnny watches, his lips quirking up in an amused manner, as you push your bottom lip out in a pout. “I have cramps, they’re not so bad right now, but I don’t like them.”

“You don’t like them?” Johnny asks in the same tone of voice, soft and playfully babying you. “What can I do, baby? You want some tea? Chocolate?”

You nod. Johnny takes you by the hand, leads you out to the kitchen where he hoists you up to sit on the countertop while he boils some water and drops in a tea bag he fishes out of one of their cabinets, and when he sits a warm cup in your hands, you lift it to your face. “It’s too hot.”

Johnny takes the cup in his hands and blows on it for you to cool it off, keeping his eyes on you as he does. “Here, sweetheart. It should be cooler now.” He lifts it to your lips and tips it forward for you, and he watches you take a tentative sip of it. “Better?”

“Yes.” You take another sip. Johnny continues helping you drink the tea, talking to you in that same gentle tone until you’ve finished the tea, your cramps have subsided a bit, but Johnny still keeps you there on the countertop, fencing you in with his hands planted on either side of your hips.

You like the warm fuzzy feeling of being so taken care of by him. Johnny takes that tone with you, he holds your hand and keeps looking at you, doesn’t step a foot away from you. He cradles you in his arms when you go back into his room, and even when Haechan finally disengages from his video game, Johnny doesn’t release you even though Haechan makes disgusted noises at the two of you being all cuddly and the tender way that Johnny speaks with you.

This is all you really want, you think, to be so taken care of by your boyfriends.

Oddly enough, it’s you who has to go overseas, leaving your boyfriends in Seoul without you. You’re scheduled to be gone for a full week, so you ask them to water your plants and/or to take advantage of a place for them to get away from their members, a place to be together.

When you’ve been gone for three days, Seonghwa calls you to talk as he’s walking back to his dorm.

A few minutes in he clears his throat. “I think I’m going to do it with Johnny. Are you okay with that?”

“Am I okay with that?” You laugh. “Seonghwa, are you? I’m happy for you. If you want to take this step with Johnny, that’s fully up to you and him.” You pause for a moment, and then say, “And I know that he wants you; he was talking about it with me a few weeks ago. And you know Johnny will be good to you. He’s always good to me, isn’t he? Not a fucking tease like you.”

“Hey!” Seonghwa complains good-naturedly. “I’m good to you too.”

You wish you could be there, not necessarily to be there when Johnny and Seonghwa really give themselves to each other the first time, but you wish you were there right now to talk about this face-to-face with Seonghwa. It feels odd to be having such an intense conversation over the phone.

“Hwa, I wish I was there,” you sigh. “I want to be there with you right now. Are you nervous?”

Seonghwa makes an uncertain noise. “Should I be?”

“No, not at all. It’s going to be so good, I promise.” You try to reassure him. “Are you going to my place?”

“Yeah. We’re going to make a date of it first, go out for dinner and drinks.” Seonghwa tries to keep his voice level, but you hear the excitement and the nerves in his voice all the same. “I’m back at my dorm. I’ll talk to you later.”

It’s actually three days later when you actually hear from him again. You’re heading back home in the morning, and you’re so excited to see them again. So excited, that when you’re sitting alone in your hotel room, you message them to beg them to FaceTime you since you know that they’re still at your place, and have pretty much been camped out there since their date night.

When your phone buzzes, you quickly answer it, grateful to see your two boyfriends faces smiling back at you with the familiar backdrop of your bedroom. But from a different angle than you’re used to seeing.

“Are you sitting on the floor?” You ask. “And is that my ice cream?”

Seonghwa pauses with a spoonful of your favorite flavor of Ben & Jerry’s into his mouth. “No,” he fibs.

Johnny is not eating your ice cream, but is eating candy. He explains, “We decided to give in to our guilty pleasures since we have the weekend off.”

“Enjoying yourselves then?” You ask, watching as Seonghwa enjoys another spoonful of ice cream and just smiles at you. “I’m ready to come home.”

“We’re ready for you to come home.” Seonghwa says. “I’m tired of Johnny, I need you.”

Johnny makes a face and steals the spoon from Seonghwa’s hand. “You’re not tired of me, you keep begging me to fuck you again. Baby, you should hear him when I fuck him, he sounds so sweet, like you.”

Seonghwa groans and pushes at Johnny’s arm, buries his face in his shoulder. “Stop lying! Don’t make her think that’s how it is!” He brings his face from Johnny’s shoulder to look at you through the phone. “Our boyfriend isn’t the entirely most dominant top he would have us believe. He can bot--”

Johnny slaps his hand over Seonghwa’s mouth, and you press your own smile into your hand at them.

“You better shut that pretty little mouth before I put it to work, doll.” Johnny says in a low voice. Seonghwa squirms, eyes darting between you on the screen and Johnny. Johnny raises his eyebrows and Seonghwa looks away, so Johnny drops the hand. “Pretty boy, just eat your ice cream.”

He grabs Seonghwa’s hand with the spoon already in it, scoops up a fresh spoonful of ice cream and urges it toward Seonghwa’s mouth, but Seonghwa fights back, trying to push it at Johnny’s face. They just end up play wrestling, and you watch the spoon fall to the floor of your bedroom, the ice cream slowly melting onto the wooden floor.

Seonghwa manages to press Johnny to the floor, and you watch with a deep gnawing hunger as Johnny smiles and lifts his head up to kiss Seonghwa playfully.

“You taste like fucking candy,” Seonghwa tells Johnny, and then he dips back in for another taste. They’re clearly all swept up, wrapped in each other, which is wonderful, but it just really makes you miss them.

“I’ll just leave.” You say when their kisses don’t let up.

Immediately, both of your boyfriends snap their attention to you. “You can’t leave!” Seonghwa slides away from Johnny, coming closer to the phone. “We’ll stop.”

“Maybe we won’t.” Johnny slips up behind Seonghwa, tilting his head so he can focus on Seonghwa’s lips. “Maybe she wants to watch us. Right, baby?” And then he’s looking at you, his eyes boring into yours even through the phone screen. “Do you want to see how pretty our Seonghwa looks with my dick in his mouth?”

Seonghwa buries his head on his arms with a groan, but Johnny laughs and you watch as you can see Seonghwa grinding up against Johnny.

“You want to watch, baby girl?” Johnny asks you. Then he looks at your boyfriend. “Hwa, do we want to see our sweet girl? Bet she’ll look all pretty and flustered, start touching herself.”

Seonghwa groans and looks into the camera at you, at where you’re already feeling quite hot and bothered. Nothing’s really happened yet, but your mind has cut straight forward to Johnny’s thick cock encircled with Seonghwa’s pretty lips. There truly is something about having your hot daddy boyfriend becoming such a submissive pleaser for your other boyfriend.

“God damnit,” you whine, “Now all I can think about right now is you licking his cock like it’s an ice cream cone.”

“You heard her.” Johnny moves around, moving so he’s on his back, and Seonghwa with an absolutely embarrassed but hungry look in his eyes fits between Johnny’s legs.

Seonghwa pushes Johnny’s shirt up first, kissing Johnny’s abs and hips. And then Johnny twists his fingers in Seonghwa’s hair which has grown longer recently, which is something you only notice as Johnny gathers a chunk of it up in his fist. Seonghwa’s fingers slide over the front of Johnny’s pants, tugging and pulling until they’re down around his thighs and Johnny’s cock has popped up and taps the bottom of Seonghwa’s chin.

“So pretty, Hwa.” Johnny tugs on Seonghwa’s hair, making the younger boy tilt his head up so Johnny can see his half-lidded eyes, making you able to see the lust blowing his pupils into wide dark circles.

Johnny lowers Seonghwa’s face back down, and you watch him take your Johnny’s cock inside his mouth, his tongue darts out to wet his lips and then he holds it out to welcome Johnny’s soft tip. His fingertips meet, circled around Johnny’s erection, licking at it sweetly, just like he’d lick at an ice cream cone.

And then his gaze cuts over to look at the image of you watching them through the phone.

Seonghwa closes his lips around the tip and pushes down, sucking your boyfriend into his mouth while still staring at you. Your belly goes warm and fluttery as you hear Seonghwa’s moan, as you watch him take Johnny down without issue.

Eternally grateful that you’ve got this room all to yourself, that Johnny and Seonghwa can’t fully see what you’re doing, you slide a hand down between your legs, beneath the towel you’re still wearing after your shower, fingertips skimming over your clit.

You must make a sound because then Johnny looks over also. You whimper involuntarily, continuing to move your fingers tenderly on yourself, stoking that flame.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans. He bucks his hips, impaling Seonghwa’s throat on his cock, making Seonghwa whine. “Do you like this, baby girl? Does watching us like this turn you on? She’s touching herself, Seonghwa. Can’t you see?”

Seonghwa makes a sound that’s a mix between a hum and a moan, still bobbing his head on Johnny, eyes trying to get a good look at you through the screen. But you’re touching yourself out of view; the only sign he can see is the way you’re biting your lip and the subtle movement of your arm.

Seonghwa pushes himself up, a line of saliva connecting his lip to Johnny’s cock. “Kitten, are you touching yourself? Have your fingers buried in your sweet pussy? You like watching us like this?” He glides his hand up and down Johnny’s length, and the older man grabs Seonghwa’s wrist, curls his fingers over his hand to make his grip tighter. He groans.

“Mm, yes, Daddy.” You press your fingers lower, getting them inside yourself, wishing it was Johnny or Seonghwa touching you. “I miss you both, wanna be there.”

“You’re home tomorrow? We’ll still be here, waiting for you.” Johnny grunts. His fingers knot inside Seonghwa’s hair again, and he pulls his mouth back down on him. “Oh, shit, Hwa. Baby, I finally understand you saying his head game is very strong.” He moans again, pushing his hips up, and Seonghwa takes it.

Your thumb swirls against your clit, and you press your fingers deeper inside your pussy, imagining Johnny’s tongue on your clit, his fingers inside you while he holds you to his face, drowning his grunts and moans between your legs.

“Seonghwa, shit.” Johnny sits up, cupping Seonghwa’s jaw, dragging him up, pressing their mouths together feverishly. Seonghwa moves closer, sitting himself in Johnny’s lap, their erections rubbing together, though Seonghwa’s still clothed, grinding against Johnny.

They moan together, and you let the sound of yours join in, riding your fingers the way you wish you were riding them.

Seonghwa pushes his pants down, and Johnny wraps a hand around both of them, jerking them both off as they kiss. Seonghwa pulls out of the kiss to moan, blinking at you, at the way you’re holding your phone lower now.

“Johnny,” he murmurs, “Look, our pretty girl.”

They both watch, your heaving chest rising and falling, your fingers busy plunging inside yourself. And Johnny continues touching them, smirking as he listens to your moans and Seonghwa’s, his thumb sweeping over his tip, coming away with a string of precum that catches the light just right to have your mouth watering for him.

Johnny cums first, dropping his head back as he moans gutturally, his cum dripping down his fingers, spreading over Seonghwa’s cock as lube for him to keep jerking off his younger boyfriend. You cum with a sob, your legs closing around your hand, watching as Seonghwa desperately begins rutting into Johnny’s hand.

A messy kiss and then Seonghwa slumps into Johnny, tucking his head against Johnny’s shoulder as he cums at last over Johnny’s fist.

“What time’s your flight land?” Johnny asks. He wipes his hand off on Seonghwa’s pants, then reaches for the pile of candy he abandoned. Seonghwa slips backward off Johnny’s lap, stuffing his dick back into his pants, and he grabs up the ice cream, pouting when he notices that it’s melted.

You tell him the time of your flight, promise to text them before you take off, and make Seonghwa promise that he’s going to have replenished your ice cream supply by the time you get there.

They’re both still in bed when your flight lands in the morning, but Seonghwa stirs.

“You’re home,” he says quietly, flipping the covers of your bed back, inviting you in. “Missed you.”

You shuck off your clothes and slide in, resting your head on his chest, sighing happily as his arms fit around you, drawing you in tight.

“I bought you more ice cream.” Seonghwa whispers. “And we stocked up on condoms again too. Johnny bought a lot of stuff for us to make dinner tonight, if you don’t mind us staying over again.”

You shake your head. “I don’t mind at all. I’d prefer to never have either of you leave.” There’s a few moments of silence as Seonghwa lets you really settle in, and you finally murmur, “I’m sleepy.”

“So sleep. We’ll still be here.” Seonghwa kisses your forehead.

Usually air travel has you feeling tired and gross afterwards, like you need to wash the stale air out of your hair, wash the grime of being around so many people in such an enclosed space off your skin. But you don’t care one bit about that, knowing that your sheets are probably in need of a wash anyway if they’ve really been fucking as much over the week you were gone as they made it sound when you FaceTimed them.

Therefore, even as gross as you feel, when you wake up some time later you don’t have it in you to push away the head between your legs, kissing at your thighs.

“Good morning, welcome home.” Johnny tells you, his lips moving lightly over your skin.

“Where’s Seonghwa?” You ask with a sigh, moving your hand still heavy with sleep to interlace with his fingers beside your hip.

“Went to get us some breakfast. Or brunch, I guess, since it’s almost noon.” Johnny kisses over your hip and your belly, resting his head against your stomach. “We really did miss you while you were gone. I love him, obviously, but it’s just not the same for us when you’re not here. One of the first times we had sex, when I was inside him, Seonghwa was babbling about having you there, riding him while I’m in him.”

You squirm. “How does it feel? Being inside him? Is it like me? Better?”

Johnny lowers his head, kissing his way back down your belly to the elastic of your panties, which he pulls down with his teeth and as that takes too long, you try to push them down with your hands, but Johnny puts an end to that. He grips both of your wrists between one hand, holding them on your belly as he finishes using his teeth to drag them down just past your pussy. Then he snatches them off with his hand.

“You didn’t answer me.” You whine, jerking your hands against his hold.

“Don’t have to answer you, baby. I’m in charge, not you.” Johnny kisses your mound, centimeters from your clit. “I’ve been thinking about this since yesterday, when we saw you dripping knuckles-deep. You’re so sweet, sweeter than that candy I was eating. Do you want me to have a taste?”

“Yeah. Yes, please.” You jerk your hands within his grip, buck your hips. Just thinking about Johnny’s soft, warm lips.

Johnny’s tongue is just exactly what you need, lapping against your slit, sending warm slow waves of pleasure through you, and that’s what he gives you, smiling as you lift your hips up against his face, whining his name.

He’s been at it for a few minutes, gotten you nicely wet and aroused, when the door opens and Seonghwa steps inside.

“Did you get started without me? Don’t tell me you sent me for breakfast just so you could have her to yourself.” Seonghwa comes to sit on the bed beside your head, strokes your hair. “I’ve been giving him lessons, does it feel good?”

“So good.” You moan.

Seonghwa looks at your face for a long moment, and then suddenly he moves down, shouldering Johnny to the side. Johnny starts to push him back, but then you whimper, and Seonghwa leans in, covering your pussy with his mouth, his masterful skills at oral carrying you into an orgasm within a minute.

Johnny edges in then, jealously getting Seonghwa to move to the side, and then he tries to imitate exactly what Seonghwa had just done, each move of his tongue and press of his lips. A second orgasm sweeps over you in the sensitive aftermath of the first.

Pleased, Johnny kisses his way up your abdomen to your chest, his fingers sliding up to cup one of your breasts while his lips go to the other. Until Seonghwa takes Johnny’s hand and pulls it away. Johnny pulls his mouth from your other breast to just look up at Seonghwa, his gaze dark and inquisitive.

“I brought breakfast, and if we don’t eat it now it’ll be cold.” Seonghwa tugs on Johnny’s hand. “Come on. We can eat, then have more fun.

Johnny reaches for Seonghwa’s hip, trying to pull him closer. “I found what I want to eat.”

Seonghwa, entirely flustered, darts his gaze to you and gives an awkward laugh. “Stop, not now, Johnny. Breakfast, I’m serious.” He steps back, walks over to your closet where he digs out a hoodie of his that you’ve stolen, and he tosses it over onto the bed. “Come on.”

You don the hoodie, then hurry out of the bedroom after Seonghwa, slipping slightly on the floor as you run up behind him to wrap your hands around his arm. He looks down at you with a soft, heartwarming smile.

“What’d you bring us?” You sit down on his lap, reaching already for the breakfast he brought home. Johnny drops into the chair beside you, and you lift your feet up to rest them in his lap, and neither of your boys complain, instead they get out all the food, and the three of you dig in.

You’ve had your fill after a bit, but there’s still more food that they both continue to dig into, and you just take comfort in being there, with them. You look between the two of them; Seonghwa’s inky black hair falls softly over his forehead like it was styled that way, looking exactly the way that you know his fans would call a boyfriend look (which is every look he has, for you). Johnny’s hair, recently dyed back to a dark brown, unstyled and handsome, his sweatshirt wrinkled from sleep.

“I have the most handsome boyfriends, have I ever told you that?” You look between the two of them, their bare morning faces. Johnny’s cheeks bulge from the food he’s just stuffed in there. You reach over and poke one of his cheeks, and he smiles at you. Seonghwa wraps his arms more firmly around your waist, tucking his chin over your shoulder affectionately.

After another few moments of this, you excuse yourself to go shower, feeling gross from the travel early that morning and the subsequent sweaty and mildly gross feeling post-orgasms. The sexy after breakfast plans are put on hold when Johnny gets a call from his manager to come back to the dorm, and then you and Seonghwa decide to make the day a date, and you go shopping and see a movie, grab something to eat afterwards.

Johnny joins you there, sitting down at the table with you both, stealing a bite from your food, picking up Seonghwa’s drink and taking a long pull through the straw. He winks at you as Seonghwa groans and grabs it back.

“You’re a menace,” Seonghwa tells him. His hand affectionately caresses the back of Johnny’s as he takes his drink back.

“But you love me anyway.” Johnny leans back in his chair, glancing around the place. He’s not looking at Seonghwa then, but you are. You see the way Seonghwa bites his lip and looks down at the drink, then looks back at Johnny. You reach over and take his hand, give it a squeeze.

Johnny sits forward again, steals another bite of your food. And then he finally gets to what’s on his mind. “So our dorm’s lease is up soon, and we have to move. My manager was showing us a few choices earlier. They all look pretty nice.”

“That’s good. Are you still going to have to room with one of the others?” Seonghwa asks.

Johnny hesitates before answering. “That’s kinda something I wanted to talk about.” He runs his fingers through his hair, though it doesn’t do much as his hair just flops back into his face. “I do have the option to not move into the dorm with the other members. I could get my own place. For us.” He glances between you and Seonghwa, trying to read your faces.

“I’m still locked in on my lease for another few months,” you tell him.

“And I don’t think I can move out of my dorm.” Seonghwa says. He looks away from Johnny to mess around with his straw.

Johnny makes a noise of understanding. “I get it if you think that it’s still too soon to move in together, or if it’s just that you like having your own place, baby.” You frown and start to shake your head, because when was the last time that you could really consider your apartment your own place? Between the two of them, you’ve barely had the place to yourself since this all started. But Johnny continues talking before you can try to reassure him. He says, “Maybe I’ll still get my own place on a short lease. I haven’t lived alone before, and I guess just having that for a little while could be a good thing.”

You stretch your foot out under the table until it nudges against his. “Move in with me. Unless you really want to have your own apartment. But you can move in with me. You both basically live there as it is. And when my lease is up, we can move somewhere nicer. For the three of us.”

Johnny shrugs. “We don’t have to make any decisions right now.”

And even though he says that, it’s all you’re thinking about for the rest of the day. When they’re back at your place later that night, messing around and cooking dinner while you do some laundry, you just watch them and wish that this could be your every day thing. Living together with both of them, happy in domestic bliss, never worrying that one of them or both of them will have to leave soon and go back to his dorm.

Johnny does get his own place, and to celebrate, you and Seonghwa bring over a cake and some wine, planning to consecrate the new apartment with a good time on his first night.

When you walk in, Seonghwa’s already there as are Mark, Doyoung, Taeyong, and Jungwoo. They’re all helping Johnny shift around some of his newly bought furniture, so you just walk inside and take a look around.

The apartment is nice, not extravagant or anything, but just nice enough to be his first apartment by himself. The kitchen is definitely nice enough, you notice as you take in the wine you brought. Johnny abandons the others where they’re messing with the entertainment center, making sure it’s centered, and he comes over to you.

“Hey.” He kisses you. “Do you want a tour around?”

There’s truly not much to tour. There’s the kitchen and living room which is basically all just one big room. There’s his bedroom, the bathroom, a laundry closet, and a narrow balcony.

When you come back in off the balcony, you’re feeling slightly chilled from the nice breeze as night falls outside, so you walk over to Seonghwa and wrap your arms around him. His arm falls comfortingly around your shoulders. It takes you a second to realize that Johnny’s members are looking at you, then at Johnny, then back at you and Seonghwa.

And for the first time you realize that they don’t truly know the extent of this relationship. They know you’re with Johnny, they’ve met you before as his fuckbuddy first and then as his girlfriend. They know Seonghwa as his friend. But now you realize that you don’t think they know that you’ve also been dating Seonghwa this entire time, and since they don’t know that then it’s very unlikely that they know that Johnny is also dating Seonghwa.

You look at Johnny for a cue on what you should do now, what your next move is.

He ignores it all. “Taeyong-ah, did you still want to stay and help cook dinner? I’m starting to get hungry.” He walks into the kitchen and opens his fridge, not that there’s much in it other than the cake Seonghwa brought earlier, a few basics, and the wine you brought.

“I forgot I was going to go to the studio, maybe another night.” Taeyong says, nudging Doyoung harshly with his elbow.

You step away from Seonghwa to slump down onto the sofa, still feeling very judged by the members. The vibe in the room is suddenly very off, very careful like they all think that there’s some sort of a fight brewing. Seonghwa walks away toward Johnny in the kitchen, and when he comes to stand right beside him, Johnny confidently slings his arm around Seonghwa’s waist, twists the boy around between Johnny and the countertop, and then kisses him breathless.

Johnny breaks the kiss, but leaves his arm around Seonghwa’s waist, looking perfectly unbothered while, from what you can see of Seonghwa’s face, he’s trying to catch his breath and looking surprised.

Johnny watches Seonghwa’s face for a second, then looks up at the four members, daring any of them to say anything. Mark and Doyoung look at each other, Jungwoo laughs, and Taeyong just looks between the three of you again before smiling at Johnny. “That’s unexpected.”

None of them truly seem too surprised about the prospect of Johnny being involved with another man, so you think maybe they’ve all known that part about him, but it seems that they just weren’t expecting him to be so involved with two people at once.

Taeyong leaves a bit later to go to the studio. Doyoung and Jungwoo help set up Johnny’s TV and the rest of the devices that fill the entertainment center. Mark awkwardly tries to ask Johnny how this relationship works, to which Johnny says, “Well Mark, when a man and a woman love each other and also love another man too....”before Mark falls into hysterical, almost panicked laughter.

It’s about two hours later when they finally leave, and it’s just you and Johnny and Seonghwa at last. You’d had to order delivery because there really was no food in the apartment yet, not enough for the three of you and his visiting members. As Seonghwa clears away the containers and trash, you grab the cake and the wine and bring them back to the sofa and the coffee table. You sit on one of Johnny’s sides, Seonghwa takes the other.

The wine is opened first. A couple glasses drunk. And then Seonghwa opens the cake for Johnny.

“I can’t believe you really got me a cake for this.” Johnny laughs and shakes his head, watching as Seonghwa lights the candles on top of it. “The wine is enough.”

“What kind of housewarming would it be if we didn’t bring you gifts like these to enjoy?” You ask. Seonghwa agrees with you, nodding along, and he sits down the lighter to scoot the cake closer to Johnny.

“Blow out the candles, make a wish on your new place.”

Johnny looks at Seonghwa and then he looks at you. He closes his eyes and blows out the candles in one breath.

And then his finger swipes through the frosting on the cake and smears it across Seonghwa’s cheek before either of you are aware what’s happening. Seonghwa yelps and reaches for Johnny, but Johnny laughs and goes to splop the remainder of what’s on his finger on Seonghwa’s nose.

Seonghwa dodges the finger, instead opening his mouth and flicking his tongue out for just a taste of the frosting. Johnny playfully draws his finger back, sucking it into his own mouth instead.

You laugh as Seonghwa swipes what’s on his cheek off with his finger, and he jumps forward so fast that you don’t see it coming before his finger’s jabbing at your face in an attempt to make you a mess too. But you’re just quick enough to grab his wrist, and you pop his frosted finger in your mouth.

As your tongue drags over the pad of his finger, coated with a sugary sweet flavor, Seonghwa bites his bottom lip and groans. You hollow your cheeks, sucking on his finger, staring him right in the eye as you simulate a blowjob on his finger.

“That’s enough.” Johnny unknots your fingers from around Seonghwa’s wrist, and he pulls your boyfriend’s arm away. “Are we going to eat this cake or just cut straight to breaking in my bed?”

Seonghwa grins and licks his bottom lip where a bit of frosting sits. “We could eat the cake in your bed?”

Johnny slings his arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders. “Do you think I want crumbs in my bed, Hwa? Maybe if we were just eating it off of you, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Like when we...” His eyes dart towards you suddenly, piquing your interest. He clears his throat and looks back at Seonghwa. “You know what I was going to say, right?” Seonghwa nods.

“What did you do?” You ask.

Seonghwa smiles. “Hey, we cleaned up after. Washed your sheets and everything.”

“While you were away, I learned he likes a little bit of temperature play.” Johnny explains. “So we used some ice cream. It melted everywhere and was really sticky and messy, but, baby, I’ve never seen our boyfriend as needy as he was then when I was eating it off of him.”

You know that their dynamic together is different than when they’re with you, but you still haven’t really witnessed it in person. It just hasn’t happened that way yet. Every time you’ve been together, it’s always been like it was before they had sex, with both of them still being very dominant with you. But from the way Johnny tells it, Seonghwa turns into a perfect little sub for him, which is almost difficult to imagine at times when Seonghwa can be so dominant with you.

Seonghwa lifts his wine to his lips, drinking the rest of it before he sits it back down. “I wouldn’t mind if we forgot about the cake. I’ve been thinking about you both all day. Mingi and Wooyoung were talking about sex earlier, and I just kept thinking about both of you.”

Johnny, with his arm still around Seonghwa’s shoulder, lifts his hand to tilt the younger man’s chin toward him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Seonghwa answers, returning Johnny’s stare in a way that has you looking away, both of them so intense that it causes a flutter deep within you.

You look back just in time to see their mouths meet.

Seonghwa’s wine-stained lips look so pretty against Johnny’s pinker lips, and you just sigh and tip back your wine glass, letting it drain into your mouth.

Maybe you feel a little jealous, seeing them both so wrapped up and enthralled by each other. You sit aside your glass and move closer, slipping yourself into Johnny’s lap and you reach for Seonghwa’s hand where it sits in his lap. He squeezes your hand and turns from Johnny’s kiss to your lips instead.

Johnny’s hand curls against your neck, his fingers gently prompting you to leave Seonghwa, and Johnny steals your kiss. Instead of complaining, Seonghwa puts his hands to work on undressing you, sliding your top up.

Johnny groans as Seonghwa pulling your shirt over your head forces him to break the kiss, but the second the shirt’s gone, your mouths crash back together, and Seonghwa kisses your shoulder and caresses your breasts. You moan into Johnny’s mouth, feeling his hands join Seonghwa’s in exploring your body.

Seonghwa’s hand slides down from your breasts to the waist of your pants, quickly slipping his way inside. You squirm and moan, desperate already to feel him touching you, but his fingers stop inside your pants, just low on your mound.

“Seonghwa-- Daddy, please!” You moan, pulling away from Johnny’s lips, but as soon as they’re freed up, Seonghwa ignores your pleas and dips in to claim Johnny again. His fingers are still irritatingly still inside your pants, and to top it off both of them have hands on you but they’re not really touching you.

You whine, wiggling around, trying to get something out of this. Either something from sitting in Johnny’s lap, like grinding against his thigh or maybe his erection, or convincing Seonghwa to actually fucking slip his fingers just a little lower toward your clit. But that just makes them both withdraw their hands.

Johnny dives a hand into Seonghwa’s hair, tugging just hard enough to draw a moan from Seonghwa. And you watch in desperate disappointment as Seonghwa’s hand that was just so close to touching you moves instead to palm Johnny’s bulge right in front of you.

It’s not fair.

So you interrupt them by grabbing Seonghwa’s hand, pulling it back into your lap, and with your other hand, you stroke Johnny’s hair and kiss the corner of his mouth. You push Seonghwa’s hand back inside your pants, and he allows it, up until you press his fingertip against your clit.

He jerks his hand free and breaks the kiss with Johnny at the same moment.

“You’re being such a brat right now, kitten.” Seonghwa stands up, catches your jaw with one hand, holding it firmly so you stare up at him. Johnny just leans back into the sofa to watch. “You always get all of our attention. But tonight’s not about you for once. Tonight is about Johnny. So stop being a brat or else we’ll be forced to punish you, sweet girl. Now, you and I are going to make Johnny feel good. Got it?”

You nod and suck your bottom lip into your mouth, feeling chastised.

Seonghwa just turns without another word and walks into Johnny’s bedroom.

Johnny shifts forward from leaning back in the sofa, and you slip back off his lap onto your own feet. He slides a hand up your thigh, your hip, your side as he stands up. He tilts his head toward his bedroom door, and says in a gentle voice, “Let’s go, baby.”

Seonghwa pulls Johnny in as soon as the two of you are in the room, returning to their embrace you’d interrupted. But then Seonghwa gets Johnny on his back on the bed, Seonghwa climbs over him, straddling him and continuing to make out with him, slowly rolling his hips until you can hear Johnny making low, satisfied hums of pleasure.

“Baby,” Johnny murmurs, gesturing for you to come closer, to join them on the bed. You step out of your pants before you slip onto the bed, and you feel Seonghwa’s eyes raking down your figure. Johnny, however, just looks at your face, brings a hand up to thumb at your bottom lip. “Stop pouting. He’s not mad at you. Are you, Hwa?”

Seonghwa just lowers himself down to kiss at Johnny’s neck, hands wandering to begin stripping Johnny.

Johnny sighs and strokes his thumb again over your protruding bottom lip. He fists a hand in the back of Seonghwa’s hair, tugging until the younger man lifts his head from Johnny’s throat.

“You’re a brat too, you know that?” Johnny says to him. “If our baby wants some attention, we should give it to her. Just because you’ve been horny all day and want me to fuck you doesn’t mean that we should ignore how needy she is, like always.”

His thumb still rests on your bottom lip, and you open your mouth, dipping forward just enough that his thumb enters your mouth and you can suck on it. Johnny rolls his eyes toward you, watching you suck at his finger, completely enamored at the sight.

“She just wants to suck on something. Don’t you, baby?” Johnny asks. You nod. He replaces his thumb in your mouth with his pointer and middle finger instead, and then to Seonghwa he says, “Get naked, Hwa.”

Seonghwa does exactly that, nearly falling off Johnny’s lap in his rush to push off his pants and his shirt and his underwear, tearing Johnny’s pants off as well. Johnny sits up and grabs Seonghwa’s hips dragging him back into his lap, and his fingers fall away from your lips, quite wet with your saliva as he reaches around behind Seonghwa.

Johnny presses his lips in the middle of Seonghwa’s chest just as Seonghwa lets out a sweet sigh and his eyes flutter shut. Johnny pulls his mouth back just enough to be able to say, “You’re already loose. Have you been playing with yourself lately?”

Seonghwa bites his bottom lip, but releases it to let out a gasp as Johnny slides in a spit-slick finger.

“That’s hot,” you can’t help but say.

Johnny looks over at you and kisses Seonghwa’s chest again. “Yes, he is. Baby, get in that drawer over there, will you?” You slide off the bed to open the drawer of his bedside table. “The lube and condoms,” Johnny tells you.

When you turn back around from the drawer, you see that Johnny has tugged Seonghwa into his lap once more, and his two fingers are buried in Seonghwa’s ass, a sight that you’ve not yet been privy to. But now you see the pink hole stretched around Johnny’s fingers, notice how Seonghwa’s thighs quiver, how he clutches at Johnny’s shoulders with another little moan.

You move back onto the bed, dropping the little bottle of lube and the condoms beside Johnny. When you kneel up and run your fingers along Seonghwa’s torso, he shivers and looks at you through half-lidded eyes.

“You’re so sexy like this, Seonghwa.” You kiss his chest as Johnny had done before, and then stretch up a little higher to kiss his lips. You feel Johnny shifting, hearing him pop open the cap of the lube, just as Seonghwa moans against your mouth.

Kissing down his throat and chest, you work your way lower and lower until his erection bumps against your chin, at which point you open your mouth to suck at the sweet pink tip.

“Ah, fuck,” Seonghwa groans, pushing his hips forward. “Johnny, I need you now too.”

“One second, I’m warming it up a little for you.” Johnny says, and you turn your head slightly to look at him, and you see him working the lube over his fingers. Seonghwa throbs between your lips, so you return your attention to him.

Seonghwa pushes your hair back from your face, gathering it in his fist.

You can tell the moment that Johnny makes his move, spreading the lube over Seonghwa’s entrance and pushing his lubed up fingers in. Seonghwa makes such a sexy noise and uses his hold on your hair to push you down on his cock.

His thighs still quiver, maybe even more so with the way that Johnny works him on his fingers, prodding against his prostate, and you suck his cock just right. It’s only a few moments before Johnny touches your shoulder, and you draw back.

Johnny tears open the condom with his teeth and rolls it down on his cock. Seonghwa eagerly shuffles forward on his knees, his wet erection swinging between his legs, and he positions himself just above Johnny. You lean back, looking back and forth between your two boyfriends.

Seonghwa’s eyes are soft and needy, locked on Johnny’s rather more lusty and dark expression. Johnny lays back, reaches down to his cock, and puts his other hand on Seonghwa’s hip, guiding the younger down onto him.

Seonghwa sinks down onto Johnny with a low moan that sends a wave of arousal coursing deliciously through you. You squeeze your legs together, lift a hand to your chest, and finally rid yourself of your bra so you can touch your breasts.

“You feel so fucking good, Seonghwa.” Johnny moans, and he brings his hand up to Seonghwa’s cock, touching it lightly with his fingers as he coos, “And look at you, all flushed and dripping wet.”

He might as well be talking about you too.

You wrangle your panties down your legs, kick them off your ankles, and slip your fingers between your legs, dipping into your wetness with a pleased sigh.

Johnny glances over at you now, taking notice of what you’re doing. His hand falls from Seonghwa’s hip, snatching at your hand and drawing it away.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa starts moving, lifting up on Johnny’s cock and dropping his ass back down, forcing a moan from between his pretty lips. You squirm and try to break your wrist free from Johnny’s hold, just wanting to touch yourself at the hot sight of your boyfriend riding your other boyfriend. But Johnny doesn’t let up.

“Please, I need something.” You watch as Seonghwa’s cock bounces with each of his downward thrusts, leaving little damp marks on Johnny’s belly where it touches. “Daddy, can I please suck you off?”

Seonghwa pauses at the sound of your desperate whine, and he looks at Johnny first before he nods. He sinks down fully on Johnny, his hands spreading on the elder’s abdomen, and he pushes back and forth with his hips. “Yeah, come on, sweetheart. Let me feel your lips.”

You kneel on the bed and sink forward, wrap your fingers around him, and take him into your mouth with no hesitation.

Seonghwa moans in delight, fisting your hair again as he rolls his hips back on Johnny’s cock and then forward into your mouth.

And while you’re distracted on Seonghwa’s cock, you finally feel Johnny’s fingers over the back of your thigh, searching higher. His fingers slide between your legs, finding you so slick and wet that he plays his fingers there for a moment, just sliding his fingers through your folds. He pulls his fingers away just to swing them back up, placing a slap right there against your sensitive pussy.

You yelp, choking for a moment on Seonghwa’s cock, and that makes him swear and thrust farther down your throat, and Johnny rocks his hips up, driving his cock deeper inside Seonghwa. You start to draw back off his cock, needing to breathe, needing to beg Johnny to please fuck you on his fingers, but before you can, Johnny’s hand is on the back of your head, pressing you down on Seonghwa.

“Keep going.” Johnny demands.

And then his fingers plunge inside you, and you lift up on your knees just enough that you can fuck yourself down on his perfect, long fingers.

You whimper around Seonghwa, gagging as Johnny rocks his hips gently forward, driving the cock in your mouth deeper down your throat. Seonghwa moans and swears, reaching down to lace his fingers with Johnny’s in your hair.

“Oh God,” he groans. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to....”

His hand falls loose from your hair, Johnny’s hand follows, and you pull back until only Seonghwa’s tip rests between your lips. You look up just to see that Seonghwa’s reached back to grasp Johnny’s thighs, and Johnny gently curls his fingers around the base of Seonghwa’s erection.

“Gonna cum?” Johnny asks, jerking his hand over Seonghwa’s length while his other hand continues to pump his fingers inside you. “Already? But we’ve barely even started.”

“Don’t tease me.” Seonghwa pushes his hands down against Johnny’s chest, arches forward, and pushes his hips back to get Johnny deeper. Your jaw aches, but not in a bad way, just in the hungry way of craving Seonghwa’s dick down your throat again, so you dip forward until your lips meet Johnny’s fingers. “Shit, this feels so good. Both of you like this, ungh.”

“Am I doing good for you, Daddy?” You pull back carefull, then hold your tongue out. “Do I make you feel good?” You run your hand up and down his length, stroking the underside of the tip with your tongue.

Seonghwa nods, unable to speak as you and Johnny pleasure him on both sides. Johnny with slow deep thrusts, and your gentle assault with your mouth and your hand. You can tell exactly the moment that Johnny hits Seonghwa’s prostate perfectly.

With a guttural moan, Seonghwa cums, squirting his load over your tongue, filling your mouth with it. But you don’t swallow, just pull back and close your mouth while Johnny strokes Seonghwa’s cock and continues to fuck him too. He sits up to kiss at Seonghwa’s throat, though you do see him catch a bit of skin between his teeth and bite just hard enough to get Seonghwa to make another beautiful sound.

You kneel up so you’re just about level with them. All it takes is a light touch of your fingers to his cheek to get him to leave behind worrying the skin of Seonghwa’s throat.

Parting your lips just a little, Johnny and Seonghwa can both see what you’ve got waiting between your lips. You even hold out your tongue, peeking it just between your lips so they can see the thick creamy cum still held there.

“Fuck, I need you to kiss me, sweet girl. I want to taste you and Seonghwa.” Johnny cradles the back of your head with one hand, tilting your mouth to slot perfectly with his, not a single drop of Seonghwa’s cum spilling until Johnny opens your lips and invites you to share, all while he still thrusts up into Seonghwa’s tight ass.

You don’t even care about yourself anymore. You’re just in love with the sounds Seonghwa’s making, half-muffled into the bedsheets. You love the way Johnny kisses you, swallowing down Seonghwa’s cum while giving you his grunts and moans and gasps when Seonghwa bounces on him or clenches around him.

When there’s nothing left in your mouth but the taste of Johnny and the lingering aftertaste of Seonghwa, you slip backwards, sinking onto your heels and then slumping sideways so you can look up at your boyfriends, both of them kissing again.

They’re a gorgeous sight to behold, all that bare golden skin and the soft yet violent press of their lips, the smooth moves of their bodies, the gasps of pleasure from Seonghwa. They look like artwork, like gods, like something you could look at for a long, long time and never get tired of it.

But they don’t stay like that for long.

Johnny maneuvers Seonghwa beneath him, rolling him over carefully so Seonghwa’s on his back, Johnny above him, thrusting now powerfully into Seonghwa’s ass.

Immediately, Seonghwa reaches for you, curling a hand over your thigh, fingers digging in as he draws his hand up to your core.

“You’ve been so good for us,” Seonghwa gasps as Johnny grips his hips tightly and fucks in, and Seonghwa’s fingers sliding against your slit. “Your pussy’s so wet, kitten. Do you really like seeing us together like this? Thought you liked me strong and dominant, so how do you feel seeing me like this for Johnny?”

“I love it. I love it. I love you.” You moan as his fingers slide just barely inside you, always a tease. You bring a slightly shaking hand up to his head, run your fingers through his hair. “I love watching you and Johnny, you being so good and obedient for him, but still being like this with me. Still being my daddy even while he’s fucking you.” Eager to please, Seonghwa eases a finger inside you. You sigh, “I want to be fucked too.”

A second finger joins the first. “Do you want to be fucked, kitten? Do you want me or Johnny?”

“Are you even up again yet?” Johnny teases Seonghwa, getting his hand between their bodies to feel his cock. “Big talk for someone who’s gone soft. And you already got one orgasm. Don’t be selfish, Hwa. I’ll fuck our girlfriend good enough for the both of us.” He pulls out and rids himself of the used condom. “Now, just watch, like a good sweet boy.”

Seonghwa pouts and glares, but he scoots aside to make room as Johnny rolls on a different condom.

You spread your legs, eagerly welcoming Johnny to fit between them. You just want to be filled, to finally be given exactly what you’ve been wanting. And Johnny fits in perfectly.

“Oh, right there,” you sigh.

You wrap your legs around his hips, twine your arms behind his head, just clinging to him as Johnny sinks into you. You want to kiss him, to feel Johnny’s plush, thoroughly kissed lips on yours right now, and he grants you that, kissing you with a lot of tongue, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths. His chest presses against yours, hearts pounding together, and Johnny tastes the moans fresh from your tongue.

Johnny slips his hand between your bodies, kneading at your chest, pinching your nipple between two of his fingers as he pushes himself upright to look down at you.

“Look at you, pretty girl.” He twists your nipple, and you groan, arching your back just a little up into his touch. His other hand holds onto your hip, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts, and his eyes trail down your body until his gaze falls between your legs. “You’re so fucking wet, oh God. Hwa, come look at her.”

He abandons playing with your tit to grab at Seonghwa’s leg, tugging to get him closer.

As Seonghwa moves, pushing up onto his elbows and then sitting up further, you reach for him too. He offers you a hand, and you cling to it with both of yours, pull it onto your chest, over your heart. He looks down at you with the same look in his eyes as Johnny, a deep arousal burning there.

Seonghwa hums, pleased, and he lifts his eyes to Johnny’s.

Their gazes press one against the other, but Johnny’s still planted deep inside you, his hips flush against you, grinding forward in a way that sends pleasure zipping from your clit through your lower body.

Seonghwa breaks first, looking away again. He dips a hand down between your legs as Johnny pulls back, and Seonghwa’s fingers glide through the sticky wetness of your arousal, slipping two fingers in as Johnny draws his dick all the way out. Seonghwa’s thumb goes to your clit and he sinks down beside you as he works his thumb against your clit and his fingers stroke inside you, quickly working you up with the constant stimulation to your clit.

And then his lips close around your nipple, tongue flicking out over the sensitive bud.

“Oh, Seonghwa!” You moan, closing your eyes.

Your body is so sensitive from how long and drawn out this has all been, how much you have longed to be touched. So sensitive that just his breath over your wet nipple has you shivering.

And then his fingers are drawn away and you feel a sharp slap against your pussy that has you cry out and whimper, drawing your legs closer, but Johnny’s hands go to your thighs, gently pressing them apart. Seonghwa kisses your breast, and strokes his fingers soothingly over the new throbbing over your pussy.

“What did you call me?” He asks, his voice low, filled with that dominant tone once more. “What was that, kitten?”

“Daddy. Daddy, I’m sorry.” You whine, reaching for his hand between your legs, but he pulls out of your reach and you almost tense up, expecting another slap against your pussy. But it doesn’t come. He gently brings his hand back between your legs, teases the fingertip so lightly over your lips down there, swirls it once around your clit in a way that has new arousal gushing from you, and then he walks his fingers up your belly, higher up your chest, until he closes them around your throat.

You can smell yourself then, right beneath your nose. You can feel your wetness on your throat, sticky and warm and slippery. Seonghwa doesn’t hold tight at all, just rests his hand there on your neck. His mouth falls again to your chest, leaving light open-mouthed kisses over one breast and then the other, paying a little attention to each nipple.

You don’t move except to breathe. Each rise and fall of your chest beneath his lips, hitching when he stops to suck his mark on your skin, and finally you moan once more when Johnny enters you with his thick cock, teasing you at first by just dipping the tip inside you. Little shallow thrusts that are just torturous at this point and bring tears to your eyes.

“Please,” you beg. “Please, Johnny.”

Seonghwa’s fingers flex, tightening just the smallest amount on your throat. He shifts a bit, and now you feel him hard against your side, his erection rubbing against you, damp at the tip. You moan, try to reach down for him, but he pulls his hand from your throat and grabs both of your hands, holding them together in his grip on your belly.

Johnny fucks in deep then, Seonghwa kisses at your throat, shifting a little higher up the bed.

“Daddy. Johnny. Oh, fuck, please. Can I cum? I want to cum.” You feel it burning within you all this desire. All you need is for them to pay attention to your clit, to just pour their affection over you.

Johnny bends forward over you, but as you lift your head hoping to kiss him, Johnny twists to the side, and you turn to watch as he instead kisses Seonghwa. Their tongues flash between their lips, and when Johnny starts to pull away, you see Seongwha’s teeth catch at Johnny’s bottom lip, holding him there for a second longer before releasing when Johnny’s hand vanishes between Seonghwa’s legs.

Seonghwa spreads his legs and you look closer and realize that Johnny’s fingering him again. His cock twitches, leaking slowly against his belly.

Johnny thrusts into you at the same pace as he fingers Seonghwa. It’s almost enough to be totally infuriating because you want more, you want harder, you want to cum.

Tears burst into your eyes when you lift your hips and start trying to fuck yourself on Johnny, trying to get what you want.

Seonghwa’s hands on your wrists squeeze and Johnny presses his hand to your hip, trying to pin you down, but you desperately wiggle and buck your hips, crying out in such a bratty whine, “Let me cum. Just let me cum, please. Mmm, Johnny your cock just feels so good I’m so close, I want it. Please give it to me.”

“I so love hearing her beg like this,” Seonghwa groans, lifting his hips to grind on Johnny’s fingers. “Maybe we should let her cum though. She’s been a pretty good kitten for us. Maybe she deserves it.”

“Maybe.” Johnny shrugs. “But not just yet.”

This is cruel. Normally they’re the other way around. Seonghwa loves denying you your orgasm, Johnny just wants to give it to you. But not now.

Johnny stops his thrusts into you, instead leaning down and you watch with bated breath and teary eyes as he kisses Seonghwa’s hip and then takes his tip within his mouth. You just know that he’s curling his fingers inside your boyfriend at the way that Seonghwa’s eyes flutter shut and he makes such a low sound of pleasure. He rolls his hips up.

Johnny pushes lower, swallowing around Seonghwa’s length, still working his fingers inside him as he begins to blow him, bobbing his head in perfect accompaniment to his fingers.

But, so distracted as he is with pleasuring Seonghwa, you can’t take it any longer, and you squeeze your legs around Johnny’s hips and start lifting your hips, bucking up, trying to ride him while being held beneath him. Johnny shifts back on his knees in such a way that the next time you drive yourself down on him, he rubs just perfectly against your G-spot, and Seonghwa’s hold on your hands falls apart, so at last you plunge a hand down between your legs once more, and touch yourself, use your older boyfriend’s cock to get yourself off on while he pleasures Seonghwa.

Seonghwa thrusts shallowly between Johnny’s lips, fucking up into his mouth, then down onto his fingers.

He looks so sexy like this, face flushed, eyes heavy with lust, his lips parted and not holding in his heavy breathing or his moans. You let yours fall to match his, and Seonghwa looks at you, at what you’re doing, and the heat of his gaze on your body like this is what finally carries you into your orgasm.

The hot burst of it beneath your skin travels from your thighs to your toes, from your abdomen to your chest and down through your fingertips.

Johnny can’t help the movement of his hips as your orgasm has you clenching and fluttering, squeezing so delightfully around him.

You collapse back to the bed, but Johnny keeps going. Sucking off Seonghwa, fingering him, fucking you on his cock. You keep rubbing your clit as he goes, extending your pleasure, hoping to maybe get a second orgasm out of this.

It works. Johnny moans roughly around Seonghwa as he cums, his hips jolting against you, his cock jerking, filling the condom inside you, and his hand on your hip comes in between your legs and he rubs your clit, still thrusting while he’s hard until you cum again.

This one sends sparks across your vision, everything shimmering like the night sky for an instant, and when you see your surroundings again, you realize Johnny’s moaning again as he pushes himself down to Seonghwa’s balls. You feel so gross and sticky between your legs, especially as Johnny pulls out of you, but doesn’t move from between your legs, too dedicated to sucking off Seonghwa to move.

Seonghwa’s fingers knot in Johnny’s hair and he rocks up against his face, moaning and sighing and looking such a beautiful fucked out mess.

“I’m so close, John. Ah!” He cries.

Johnny pulls off Seonghwa, gagging and coughing. Seonghwa’s cum splatters his belly, cock twitching as he shoots his load, Johnny milking him for all he’s got but continuing to work his fingers against Seonghwa’s prostate.

Seonghwa’s barely finished, still panting and thighs twitching, his cock going soft in a puddle of his cum, when Johnny pulls away and asks, “Who wants to go again?”

“Yeah, no. I’m worn out.” Seonghwa drops his hand onto his belly. “And I’m a mess. I don’t want to move at all. Ever. Practice tomorrow is gonna be a bitch.”

You smile and try to laugh, reaching over and sliding a hand under Seonghwa’s arm until he lifts it enough that you can wrap both of your arms around it, cuddling up to him with your eyes sinking shut.

Johnny kisses your knee and then your thigh, trailing a few kisses lower towards your sensitive core. He just gets in one lick before you whine and squeeze your legs around his head.

“No,” you whine.

“Okay,” he says softy. He sits up, and closes your legs together, then moves off his bed. He looks down at the pair of you looking so satisfied and sleepy in his bed, both of you messy with sweat and cum. Johnny licks his lips and grimaces a little.

“We still have cake to eat. Don’t pass out on me yet.” Johnny backs away from the bed, heading away to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”

Seonghwa kisses your forehead as you settle more into his side. “You know I wasn’t really angry with you earlier, right?” He asks. You nod silently. Seonghwa says, “Are you good? With all of that? Johnny fucking me and all that?”

“Yes, Daddy. I really, really am good with that. I love you both, I want you to love each other in the same way.” You kiss his shoulder. “I just don’t want you to forget about me. I’m sorry if I act like a brat sometimes, I just need you both, I love you both, want you all the time. So sometimes when I don’t have your attention....”

“I know, sweetheart.” Seonghwa kisses your forehead again. “You’re needy, and we love that. Don’t worry about us forgetting about you, that’s never going to happen. While I do.... I love Johnny, but never forget that what brought me here is all this love for you. I know he’s the same.” He strokes your hair, his voice low and gentle, “When you were away and it was just the two of us, it just wasn’t the same. We need you here for us to work completely. And we talked about that, about how when it comes down to it, we’re both here for you more than for each other. He’s just an added benefit.”

You tilt your head to look up at his face, to see his eyes and read the truth in them. You’re still like that when Johnny returns, carrying the cake and some forks, the bottle of wine, a damp cloth to wipe you both down, and a toothbrush hangs from the corner of his mouth.

He sits the cake and the bottle on the bedside table, tosses the cloth onto Seonghwa’s stomach. “Clean up,” he says around his toothbrush.

Seonghwa does wipe at the cum on his belly, the lube between his legs, and then he sits up to prompt you to open your legs, to let him gently clean between them. He folds the cloth over to a somewhat cleaner section as he runs it over your belly and breasts. He’s careful as he cleans your throat, and then your face.

He kisses you once he’s done, and then he leaves you in the bed too.

Johnny’s been stood there this whole time watching, just brushing his teeth at the side of the bed, but when Seonghwa rises to his feet, they both leave for the bathroom again. Seonghwa comes back and steps into his underwear. He grabs your panties and a shirt from the floor and passes it to you as he sinks back down onto the bed.

Johnny returns with a fresh mouth and he also pulls his underwear and a hoodie on as he tumbles into the bed, dropping his head against your belly. Your hand falls to his hair, stroking it.

“Feed me?” He requests, opening his mouth and looking up at you.

Seonghwa leans over to bring the cake into the bed.

“This is a bad habit to get into, Mr. Suh,” you tell him, “You’d better not keep it up, because I don’t want crumbs in our bed.”

“And wasn’t it you earlier who said you didn’t want us eating in your bed?” Nevertheless, Seonghwa scoops up some of the cake on his fork and brings it down to feed your boyfriend. Johnny happily eats it, wiggling his feet as he chews, ignoring both of you. So Seonghwa gets a dab of icing on his fingers and swipes it once more on Johnny’s cheek, the same thing that set this whole evening in motion in the first place.

Johnny glares up at Seonghwa for a second, but when you laugh and lean down and lick it clean off his cheek, Johnny melts into a happy puddle again.

Devouring the cake is sweet. Later falling asleep between your two boys, half-drunk on the wine and the sugar, leaves you feeling soft and warm and fully and completely and irrevocably in love.

This is it, you think, as Johnny’s arm tightens around your waist, as Seonghwa snores softly (though he always denies it when you accuse him) with his head on the pillow right beside yours. This is it. This is everything you want from now until the end of time.

To be caught forever in this peaceful and perfect romance with your sweet Seonghwa and your honey Johnny.

[The End]

a/n: first and foremost I just want to say thank you to the anon for sending me the three prompts from the prompt list that inspired me to actually fully write this part 3, and I’m sorry that I changed one of them slightly, but I just felt like it would fit better that way. I hope you liked it still! Also sorry it took so long for me to write this.

also that last line... how do we feel about that? is it too cheesy? too gross? because after my final read through before posting this, I read it and was feeling very ehhh about it, but I’m leaving it.

I hope you enjoyed this final part of the Sweet Like Honey series! As usual if you enjoyed it, please like, reblog, and/or leave a nice comment! Sharing it is always appreciated, and leaving tags is also greatly appreciated!

#nct smut #ateez smut #johnny smut #seonghwa smut #johnhwa #johnny seo #park seonghwa

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