#winter is causing chaos again

[dick-nightwing-grayson]

it's fine it's fine I can forgive you for liking wally ig 😔😔😔😔😔

I would never hold liking Cassie against you. It is just Wally is the bestie of my guy. I would be a terrible Dick fan if I didn't also love Wally. I still love you Winter 🥰

[nexusnyx]

keep close | part II

joel miller x f!reader [5.2k] summary: It's the oldest case of blinded by love ever seen. All of the doubts and pining must have entertained the gods all this time. That's the explanation you settle for when you discover that just like you, Joel has been suffering in silence. Wanting. Craving you. 📝 This is the continuation of part 1 but it can be read as a stand-alone. If you enjoy it, reblogs and comments make all the difference. 🏷️ Pining, idiots to lovers, sexual tension, smut build-up.

masterlist | part one ←

Everything was so fucking green. You hated it.

"Why d'you hate it?" Joel asked.

Unlike you, his recovery advanced fast. Bruises and cuts had the 'fading to yellow' tonalities, and he was now hunting deer and other animals with Ellie so you three did more than just survive winter. "'Cause I never see it." It's so beautiful out there. "Ever stopped to think about how the world looks healthier and prettier than it has in thousands of years, and we're all stuck inside walls?"

Joel usually takes a moment or two to reply, but when those moments stretch on, you look up from the floor to where he's sitting on the couch and—oh.

He's doing it again. Looking. Staring at you as if he's thinking a hundred things. You freeze under his gaze again, waiting for it, begging in your mind that he'll do it...

His hand reaches out in direction of your face, and everything inside you lights up.

He touches your hair.

Ever since that incident where you two were sleeping together a little closer than ever before, Joel's taken a liking to your hair.

Usually, the idea of anyone touching you, let alone your hair, is enough to make you break out in hives.

With him, you lean against the touch.

The hand on the side of your head starts doing sweet, caring movements, and you force yourself to open your eyes.

Joel breaks you out of your thoughts by wondering, "What would you do if you were outside?"

That takes your memory back. You close your eyes, getting lost in his touch for a moment. "Probably... play something."

"Play what?"

Ignoring how his voice surrounds you when your vision is gone is difficult. "Anything that requires a ball." You somehow manage it. "My brothers and I—" their mention chokes you. Grips you by the throat.

As always, Joel waits.

"My brothers and I loved playing... anything," you chuckled. "It's the only time I wasn't bored."

"What did you enjoy the most?"

"Uh. Probably volley? I liked keeping the ball up high." You open your eyes then, missing the sight of his. Joel's watching his own hand in your hair and, in exchange, you get to watch his face. Before he can dive more into your past for his own distraction, you nudge his hand with your head. "I'm proud of you."

Joel knows exactly why, and still, "Why?"

You roll your eyes. "For making El believe in Santa Claus."

It happens again—Joel smiles. One week's passed since the incident and you're still mesmerized every time. "I don't think she'd believe him for too long."

"Joel."

He laughs through his nose, then places his gaze on your eyes. "I don't know why you'd be proud of me for that. It's stupid."

"Letting her go hunt on her own is stupid?"

"Sure is." He had a damn point, and you hated the world for it. "We both know how it could go."

"We do. And still, you allowed her to feel like a person who has some control over her life and who's capable of using her own hands to live." As someone who waited years for that same opportunity, you knew what it meant. "You don't know what this means to her, but I do."

Joel lived a life before chaos was the new natural order. He takes a second, his hand pausing its ministrations before he nods and continues his petting. "I believe you."

That means the world to me. "Thanks."

This time, Joel doesn't answer.

His hand keeps doing the thing it's grown fond of, and you keep pretending your body is not growing dependent on it like plants need air, water, and the Sun.

You think his hands and eyes on you might be your Sun.

You wish you could do the same for him.

The idea of rejection is what holds you back from so much.

Before last week, before he did this for the first time, the physical distance kept between you both was your seal of confirmation that Joel knew about your feelings. That he knew how much you burned for him, for a touch of his.

Now, you aren't so sure.

Then, you cried. Months ago, before this last ordeal of fuckery made your little triad retreat to a cold cabin in the mountains, you cried over the mere thought that Joel saw you as he did Ellie.

Like a daughter.

It plagued you until it showed up in your dreams and made you weep because of it.

All your life you waited for the moment when the desire for someone became real. When wanting and feeling a connection became as tangible as the tension that cloaked the quarantined city every day.

When it came, it was him.

Joel breaks you out of your thoughts with a chuckle, "You remind me of a cat."

You were leaning against his touch again. This time, you keep your eyes closed. "Feels nice." More than nice. "So nice."

He laughs again. "I can see that."

That pulls your eyes to open. Joel's face is fixed on you. His right hand is hidden by his shirt, tucked on top of the cloth soaked with medicinal paste. It's why he took the touch after a lot of arguments, minutes before Ellie left for the hunt. "You're a cat, too," you argue.

Joel raises one eyebrow at that. "How?"

"Skittish."

"I'm skittish?" the smile is making its way back to his lips.

You nod. "I'd pet you too if I didn't think you'd hiss and run for the hills."

Fuck. Barely are the words out of your mouth before you feel the heat creeping up your neck to cover your face. Out here, there are lamps with candles.

Joel sees you with clarity.

A deer caught under the spotlights. Not a cat, then.

It's his smile, opening slowly but surely, that makes the tension leave your shoulders. "Ellie says I can be a grouchy hedgehog with anger issues. One that stinks. And you... wanna pet my hair?"

Ellie's a child, Joel. I want you. "El is a sharp-tongued kid who loves making you frown." It's also the truth. "And yes. I do," in a much lower voice, you finish with, "it looks soft."

Joel shakes his head, his smile widening. "Unbelievable."

"What?"

"My dirty hair. It looks soft," he repeats, fixing you under his gaze.

You look away. "Nevermind," you mumble.

Joel should remain still on that couch, but he moves. Laughing, his hand goes back to what it did before, and pulls you closer as his upper body leans forward. He sort of—nuzzles. It's not a kiss—Joel just touches his nose to your hair, and you feel his laughing coming out through his nose.

When he stops laughing, he leans back down on the couch.

His tender touch on your hair continues.

"You're so..." he trails off, and you wished you were still looking at him. "I wouldn't run," he adds.

That gets your attention. Your eyes find his, and your heart seems to grow two sizes with the way it beats. "No?"

"No."

Immediately, your eyes fall to the couch he's lying on—you hate it. It's small. Old. With no room for another person there. "I'll show later that it's nice," you settle for.

Even if the couch could fit a whole family of three, you know that you'd remain where you are.

"Later?"

"Yeah. No space for me up there."

"Oh." Joel sits up in a single motion, causing you to sit up straight. Your cheek was resting on the small part of the couch his body wasn't, but now, you watch as he lifts up his shirt to inspect his bruised side.

The second you see skin, usually, you avert your gaze. This time, you inspect the colors and healing with him. It looks... ok. Still painful, just as your own body is, but no shooting pain with every move you make.

Joel places the rag on the couch without care and nods. "C'mon. We were up all night re-making the supplies, and El's only gonna be back in a couple of hours. We should rest."

Following Joel is the norm by now. Wordless, you walk behind him in direction of the room.

The mattresses are still pushed together.

There are three backpacks with several items placed in front of them on the other side of the room, a handful of handles spread around the corners, and on top of that old brown blanket, Ellie's drawing book.

"She was here again," you tell him.

Joel's kneeling in front of his backpack with the cassette player in hand. "I don't know why. Her room's the only one with an actual bed."

"She's restless," you say as you move her notebook to the floor, "and ever since you taught her how to scout perimeters, she uses that opportunity to find 'cool shit' around places."

Joel hums in reply, and then you hear a click.

In a very low volume—low enough that only these walls must be capturing sound, his tape Saxophone Colossus fills the air with a gorgeous sound.

He makes his way to the bed and lies right next to with you a grunt.

Your bodies' sides are touching. He places his left forearm under his head, using it as a pillow, and then turns his head to the side where your waiting eyes are already observing him.

"She found the water heater," Joel agrees.

His voice is always lower here. Either that or you're in closer chambers and always use that as an excuse to drown in it. "She did."

"Can you turn it on to heat up some water when she comes back?"

You nod, smiling at him. This part is so good. "'course," you want to scoot closer, but—always but. "I'd rather prepare three baths measuring the water with a coffee cup rather than skin animals alive."

Joel's side smile returns. He stares for a moment, and says, "I don't know how you learned it that well. You hate doing it."

"I learned it 'cause I had to." For her. For Ellie, it goes unsaid. "Doesn't mean I'll ever want to ever again."

"Thank gods they didn't butcher my arm, then."

You close your eyes, whining a little. "No. Please—don't even joke about it."

Joel laughs. "I'll make sure to keep my arm. For both of your sakes."

"Thank you," you open your eyes again.

"No problem," his grin is kind of intoxicating. From this up close, watching Joel smile does to you the same that a full glass of bourbon does. "C'mere," he tilts his chin down at the same time as he stretches his arm to your head, "there's space now."

It hits you what Joel's doing. Inviting you in.

Call it instinct. When you raise your upper body just enough for his arm not to linger awkwardly in the air, you're still registering what is going on, and then—

his chest.

Joel guides your head there, and as it's custom, you follow.

It lands you where you dreamt of being for months now.

His body adjusts underneath you, getting comfortable.

You're so lost in the feeling of his heat that you miss the beat. When you feel his breathing becoming even and his hand moving in your hair, you notice how comfortable you are.

How perfect it feels.

Joel pets your hair for a little while before you manage to find yourself again.

A song must pass and in it, your mind lives through the most blissful few moments of peace and quiet it's ever had.

Nothing happens. No thoughts, no doubts, just this.

When you come back to what is reality, no matter how dream-painted it looks, Joel's heart sings under your ears.

You can hear it beating.

Then, you remember why you're here now. "Can I do it?" you ask.

Your body remembers it can move and does something else it's been dreaming of for a while. It cuddles. It adjusts itself in order to be comfortably aligned with his, and your chin tilts upwards to get a look at his face.

From this angle, all your see is beard until he looks down. "Do what?" The question is betrayed by the hint of a smile on him. It might be a product of your own rapid heartbeat, but Joel seems to gain a little bit of color. "Pet my 'soft' hair?"

"I can hear the air quotes and I don't appreciate them."

You love to make him laugh. This time, you get to feel it. Even if it all goes down someday, at least you'll always have this memory. "You can," he replies once he's done laughing.

Breathe in, you decide this position is just fine, and move your right hand up until it finds his hair. Breathe out.

The angle is uncomfortable—not the best, nor the worst, but it does its job.

It feels greasy when your hands run through them, but not dirty. It is as soft as you imagined it.

It takes him some time too — one song and a half — before Joel's body is fully relaxed. His heartbeat takes the longest.

You feel the times when he lifts his left arm to check the clock to see if Ellie is still in her two-hours time.

None of you sleep, but that doesn't matter.

Rest nowadays goes beyond hours shutting down the brain. Laying there with Joel is the most you feel truly rested, even if the circumstances are these.

Whatever leads to you in his arms, you'll take it.

It's worth the wait. Makes you feel alive.

Ellie eats like a starved animal, every time.

"Slow down, kid, jesus fuck," you tell her, without fail, every single time.

By now, she does slow. It's like she needs a reminder—there is food, and we'll find you more if you need it.

Once, Joel wondered what the fuck did they feed her in that military school. You're unsure if you want to know.

"Did you two rest?" she asks with her mouth full.

"Really?" he gives her the look of 'gross, El', but she only rolls her eyes at him. "And yeah, we did."

"I already warmed up the water for showers." The wood bath structure was perfect for a shower, and heating up all of the baths inside that room already made the temperature rise a little. "You can go first."

"Telling me I stink?" she asks you.

You grin. "Always do, bug." Little bug. That's who she was to you—a nature's wonder. "Not enough showers in the world to change that."

"We should be honest with her," Ellie turns to Joel, and you think oh here it comes. "She can't smell herself."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Joel replies in faux seriousness. "I'm certain all three of us smell like fields of flowers. The one that's most us, y'know? Like me, for example, I'm clearly a blue orchid."

It's been like that since those guys jump you three. Whatever lock kept Joel doing his best to push you two out, was just gone.

He presses his makeshift plate closer to lean in your direction and say, "Do I smell like orchids? Is it amazing? Any hints of some type of wood underneath?"

Joel's silly.

It's not something either one of you expected but welcomed with open arms.

He'll say the stupidest things to make Ellie laugh. He acts, and then winks in your direction to say 'gotcha'.

Ellie leaves for her shower, and leaves you two alone.

The air's back to what it was before she arrived.

It's always been different without her around, but now it's this. Joel finishes his meat and cleans the tip of his fingers with his lips. You try to look away. You fail.

He pulls you back. "Can I ask you something?"

You're almost done with your meal, but now that he's talking and his whole focus is back on you, the hunger left. Switched. "Always."

"Do you feel... lonely?"

What a stupid, and painfully sharp question. "No." I'm scared to ask the same. "Of course I don't," you say. "There's you. El. I'm... well-accompanied."

Whatever he was looking for, the answer must deliver. "Okay." He looks in the direction of the bathroom —Ellie— and then back at you. This time, he scoots closer to you and fits himself to fit in your side.

You open up to him, happy to create more space.

You'd wrap yourself around his whole body if you could. Make a home somewhere between his arms and his thighs. His smile always in line of sight.

With arms wide open, Joel pulls his chair, screeching the floor until he's content with the proximity. His head lays on top of your chest, and your hands immediately go to his hair.

There's no music to measure time, but you've grown fond of the 'peace and quiet' he always went on about.

Eventually, he speaks. "We can't fall asleep here."

You laugh against his hair. "It hasn't been even five minutes. You know she's mixing cold and 'hot scalding water' until the temperature's just perfect like she's a mad scientist until now. We have at least twenty minutes."

"Hmmm." He nuzzles his head, and you pray your hummingbird of a heart won't disturb him.

Joel asked you about what you thought of his plans for once you two were healed. That's what you both discussed with Ellie as you ate.

The conversation changes two or three times before he lands on it.

"Well—after all of it. Tommy, or Fireflies—what do you want?"

You're still lost in the last topic, and the feeling of his hair running like silk through your fingers. "Do we even know if we trust them?"

"Trust who?"

"The Fireflies, obviously."

"Ah. Hm. I suppose we don't," on your arms, Joel nudges you with his body. "Forget 'em for a sec."

You open your eyes and his head is lying so nicely on your shoulder. He locks eyes with you, and asks. "What do you want after that?"

Like that. As if it's simple. "Are you asking if I want ice cream or move to the Arctic?" What an absurd. "I don't fuckin' know. I hope I'm alive. In one piece. And so are you two. The end."

"You don't want anythin'?"

It's infuriating. He is right there, looking up at you with those stupid gorgeous brown eyes and, "It's not that simple," comes out before something else does.

Not enough of an answer, apparently. Joel shakes his head. "'s just a scenario. A 'what if' for the future, since we can't do them about the past. Indulge me."

"So, like, a hypothetical world where you, and El, and I, we're all good. And we... found Tommy. Or maybe the Fireflies."

"Yeah."

"And they've given us a little more than just 'she's the cure' to work with... And we can—I don't know, sit back and watch some scientists do science? That's the scenario?"

"You're paitin' it much better than me," he smiles. "Go on."

You roll your eyes. "In that scenario—I want ice cream."

Joel groans. "Oh, c'mon." He sighs, and whispers your name under his breath. He leans close enough for his hair to tickle your cheeks. "Tell me. Somethin' you always wanted growing up, I don't know."

"It's a difficult question!" you defend yourself, smiling despite being cornered by his new musings.

"It is. And you can think on it, if you want," Joel nuzzles his head to comfort once again on your shoulder, then closes his eyes. "I'm just curious about the stuff you wanted to do before someone threw a mission on your lap, that's all."

"Okay. I'm thinkin'."

"I can hear the engines turning," he whispers. You poke the side of his body, because you know now that you can, and then—, "I already know you're gonna ask me the same so I'll start thinkin' about my own answer to. And don't bullshit me—if you tell me you'd rather have an x-burger instead of ice cream I'll poke a finger in one of your bruises."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me," he laughs.

"I'd kill for an x-burger, now that you mentioned," your voice lowers to a whisper too.

"Same. Now shhh and think. I'm sure you've had aspirations beyond babysitting the unique child and teaming up with my ugly mug."

That's what stops you. Ugly mug.

Your eyes open, and the intensity in them must pierce through his darkness, because Joel feels the eyes on him and looks straight at you. "What?" he looks confused.

Your first mental lap is to be angry—

how can he not see it? it's right in front of him—but then.

Insecurities.

The ones you have and cloud your thoughts with every rising Sun—of course Joel had them, too. He was older, this world was far from kind, and—

He gets up, looking every bit as lost in thoughts as you are, and starts gathering the things from around the fire.

You took too long to answer, and his nervousness always shows up in one of two ways: sleep, or organizing.

"You genuinely think that?" you ask after a second.

Joel gathers the plates in his hand and uses the snow water to rinse them. "Which part? That I think you deserve more or that my mug is ugly? 'Cause yes to both."

"That's—wow." Your laughter is dry, something very unusual.

It makes him look at you. "Wow what, woman?"

He only calls you that when he's getting impatient. "That's crazy to me."

"What is? I never asked you either one of these questions 'cause the first one could be misread—I don't want you thinkin' I'm tryna get rid of you—"

"Thank god."

"—and the second one." He sighs, and puts the plates together. Everything that's not being used always goes back to the backpacks in cases of emergency. Joel looms there over the sink with them in hand, and you wait. "I'd say something stupid like 'does that kind of thing ever matter anymore' but the truth is, I can't see a scenario that it doesn't, and I'd rather live without your honest opinion about this."

"I am always honest in my opinions," you agree.

"Exactly. That's why I never asked you what you thought of my face—I can sleep without that one," he concludes.

"You were right, too. Saying 'does beauty matter anymore' would be stupid 'cause we always looked and always will look for things that we think are pleasing to the eye. It's human nature, don't you think?"

He nods, and then moves to where the backpacks are to put away the cans and plates. "It is."

"I think a lot of things are beautiful. Mostly it's nature, though. And woman. D'you think I'm weird for that?"

Joel looks over his shoulders and the answer is written all over his face.

You shrug your shoulders. "I know some people who definitely would."

"I know some people who have fungi tentacles exiting their mouths. We've learned these past few years that our species isn't the smartest."

"Touché," you laugh. "I do think you're handsome, though."

It freezes the air as if someone opened a door and let the cold air inside.

"Not that you asked—but," you look away from his frame, losing the confidence to look at him as you go on, "you're... beautiful." Most men would hate that adjective. You know that because you heard it from your brothers—only women are 'beautiful'. "I know men don't like that word used to describe them, but—"

"What men?"

"I don't know," you shrug again, wanting to have a shell to retrieve out of nowhere. "Most men? It's what my brothers told me."

"Well—they don't speak for me, then."

It's the feeling of his eyes on you that makes you gaze in his direction. "I like the white hairs, too," for some reason, your voice dropped to a whisper, "and your beard. It's even. Frames your face well."

Joel looked frozen under a spell.

He stared at you with intent and focus you'd never seen before.

Since you started, you might as well finish. "The crinkles by your eyes are smile-made. I like that."

It works—it brings them out. Joel starts smiling, even if his eyes look a little lost. "Smile-made?" he echos.

"Yeah. They're there 'cause of your smile. Some people have lines 'cause they frown a lot, or grimace, or are always judging. I don't like those lines."

"I have worry lines."

"We all have worry lines, Jo. It's the end of the world."

He laughs. "Touché."

"That's my favorite part, though." He stops laughing at those words, and you miss it instantly. "Your smile."

His gaze softens. "You like my smile?"

"You almost never smile," you say, hating that sad truth, "and it's a beautiful smile," you think if anything else comes out, it might be too much. Too close to the truth, so, "in conclusion: handsome. So—I do think you're a little crazy. It might not be often, but we still see mirrors every now and then."

His silence as an answer made the jittery nerves climb up your legs, soothing like an ointment every bruise it found in its way.

Joel staring at you was the reason why you lacked sleep, sometimes.

Too many thoughts about what he was thinking. Too many scenarios about what it would be like to have the courage to make the first move.

It's he who does it.

When it comes, you're too lost in a trance to properly register his steps coming back to you.

He sits on the chair next to you again. Grabs your chair with one hand, and pulls it close to his until they're touching.

He's so close you could count the gray hairs you like so much on his beard.

When he leans in closer, you're breathing his air, and it makes goosebumps rise all over your skin. On your arms, your neck, your back.

Joel moves one hand to your neck at the same pace one moves when hunting wild animals.

As if every movement could result in being seen, and the prey running away.

When he's only a couple of inches away from your face, you feel the heat of his palm spread across your neck; his thumb caressing your cheek. He asks, "Talk to me. Is this—Am I reading it wrong?"

If you have a voice, it's gone. You shake your head and do the only thing you needed all this long—you lean, too.

Sometimes, things are so important that every second of it counts.

Joel's lips on yours are one of those things.

You're shaking, at first.

Although inexperience is part of the reason why you're so terrified of doing something, this part you know.

It's the only one you have confidence in, so you let all the worries on your shoulders go, and you kiss him back.

Joel wants you to.

The notion that he might've been as lost in his head as you were in yours makes you want to cry. You whimper against his mouth instead, pressing so much harder when the reality of what is happening catches up to you.

Joel pulls back for just a second, "It's okay, I got you," he seals the words by pressing his lips on yours again.

All of your reservations fly out of the window with those last three words.

You throw your arms around his neck, almost throwing yourself too in the process. Joel laughs right there, with his lips still on yours, and catches your weight.

With your fingers threaded through his hair and holding on for dear life, you let him do it—let him guide you.

Kissing Joel makes your head drown in every other moment you two shared and you could feel your heart beating in your throat.

He takes it slow with you, despite feeling the shivers all over your body.

Joel nips on your bottom lip until you open up for him.

He kisses by sucking, then pecking your lips, and when he finally pushes his tongue in your mouth, you forget where you two are for a moment.

The moan is involuntary, and even with eyes closed you feel them rolling to the back of your head.

Joel's hand on your nape starts massaging your neck and he says, "Shhh, gorgeous, 's okay," he licks into your mouth again.

Rewiring your brain is so easy for him. Gorgeous.

Just like when you two discovered that touching one another was an option a week ago, learning that this is on the table is almost comical. You feel like a starved person being delivered a feast, and stopping is far from an option.

When you pull back for air because there's none left in your body, the string of saliva connecting your mouth to Joel's makes you tremble again.

He needs to know. Tell him. If he knows he's the only man — or person — who's ever awakened desire in you, maybe he'll understand why you're like a leaf in his hands.

Joel's hand comes up to your cheek. It's huge, covering almost half of your face, and when he whispers, "Open your eyes," you realize that you'd closed them again.

His eyes are the warmest part of him. "Hi," you mumble. "Please tell me you'll do this again."

Joel smiles. "If you wait a few more hours, El will be asleep," he swallows visibly and you think what on Earth could he be nervous to, "I can help you... cleaning your wounds. You could help me."

Right. Bathing together, even if 'bathing' is a strong word for it.

Inexperienced. No knowledge whatsoever other than books you read in the abandoned library. What will you do with him? What will—

"We don't have to, obviously," he interrupts your thoughts. "And yeah. I wanna do this more. Of course I do," Joel kisses you again, and you hold his head in place for a few more moments, stealing more kisses to numb your mind. "God, I wanted this since I met you."

"Joel."

"It's true."

"I'm happy to know we're both idiots," and even happier that was behind. "And—I mean. A helping hand is always good... right?"

The look he gives you does it again—a shiver, and it's not from the cold.

The mere idea of his hands on you is enough to make you sweat.

Maybe that's the perfect timing and opportunity to lay it on him that he's signing up for something he might not want.

"You want my help?" he asks. He nuzzles his face on yours, rubbing his beard on your cheek, down to your neck.

You bite your lip to stifle a moan. "Yeah."

"I'll do my best."

It'll be more than enough. That is—if you can survive the next few hours. If his kisses alone are enough to almost bring you to a fever again, his hands might kill you.

You would die happy.

PART THREE →

🏷️ @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @bistarlight

[skzdarlings]

the same but different | the threesome series ; skz ; han/reader/felix

masterlist.

threesome series part 3/4.

You grew up with Felix and Jisung.  Your definition of normal has always been unique, considering Felix is a faerie and magically connected to Jisung.  So even though you are dating Jisung, when Felix tells you he needs to marry to keep up appearences in the faerie court, you see no reason to say no…

pairing: han jisung/reader/lee felix content info: sexual content. threesome. faerie au. this is an almost 16k word read. one day i will meet my maker and have to atone for that. warning for some ambiguous motivations plus general freaky faerie and supernatural stuff. felix and jisung have a magical connection, reader does not know the details but it seems they can physically feel each other's reactions and urges and they do a lot of the same things in an uncanny way. there is a 'consummation ritual' that involves being watched but reader is clever about it.

:)

-

Autumnal flurries follow Han Jisung everywhere, little tornadoes of red-and-gold kicking up an elemental fuss wherever he steps. It might be a remnant of his time with the faerie folk, or maybe a coincidence, or maybe he is such a blustery font of chaos that he is simply kicking up wind storms on his own. 

He totters into the café with his usual trail of leaves, much to the displeasure of the bus boy who follows with a broom.  The wind gets restless at the window.  It throws itself against the pane with a heavy, reverberating thunder as if nature is knocking in pursuit of Jisung’s attention.  You watch a few pine cones hurl themselves at the glass before everything settles down on its own. 

Jisung pays it no mind.  He slides into the booth across from you, heaving a big dramatic breath. 

“Good afternoon,” you say, amused with your boyfriend’s theatrics.  They are as constant as his flurries.   

“Yo, is it, ‘cause ah, HAHA—I’ve been having a day.”  He thunks his head on the back of the booth and pretends to fall asleep.  His round glasses skew with the loll of his head.

Jisung dressed up for today’s date.  He is wearing a beige coat that flatters his warm complexion plus that cute checkered scarf you gave him last winter.   You don’t mind his usual hoodies and caps as it always puts a swagger in his step, but you appreciate his effort even if it is a little random. 

He lifts his head with another musical sigh, golden blonde hair fluttering from his breath.  His big glasses make his dark eyes even bigger and you smile again.

“Hi,” you say sweetly.

He whimpers with more theatrical misery. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says like it is the most painful fact in the world.  “Why are you so beautiful?  And funny, and smart, and mine.  If you weren’t gonna be ugly and horrible, the least you could have done is reject me.  It wouldn’t have been so bad.  I could have been a lonely suffering artist, hidden away in a basement, composing symphonies for the beautiful woman out of my league.”

“I think you just described the Phantom of the Opera,” you say.

“Even better.”  Jisung sighs wistfully.  “He lived in an underground sex dungeon, right?  I don’t think he even paid rent.”   

You laugh into your hot chocolate. 

“What’s gotten into you?” you say.  It’s a rhetorical question.  Jisung is always a little silly. 

Your playful boyfriend thumps his hands on the table and glares past you, out the window. 

“Faeries,” he says brusquely.  “And their stupid faerie bullshit. My life is a nightmare and an arthouse horror movie and no one has ever suffered more than me—oooh, is that a chocolate croissant?”

You slap his hand when he reaches for your pastry.   He yelps like you chopped it off. 

“Jisungie,” you say, lifting an eyebrow, “what do you mean faerie bullshit?” 

He pouts spectacularly while unknotting his scarf.  He speaks in a watery, despondent voice, very contrary to his usual goofiness, “What do you think I mean?”

This, it seems, is also rhetorical as you have no opportunity to answer.  The bell jingles above the door and a little shiver moves down your spine. 

Unlike Jisung, you have never been to the faerie realm, but you have a gift for recognizing a supernatural presence.  Everything catches your eye as if they are sparkling fireflies, no matter their efforts to hide. 

The courtly fae, the ones that look human, have a tendency to cast enchantments both literal and metaphorical, their impossible beauty captivating to any human eye.  You are not immune to their gravitas, the way space seems to warp around them like earth is little more than gelatinous mire, but you can sense their other-worldliness before seeing them.   This is most likely due to exposure.  You did, after all, grow up with a faerie. 

You look to the doorway.  

Ah.  Speaking of. 

“Oh my god,” Jisung whines.  “He said he’d give me time to tell you.” He steals your hot chocolate and takes a swig like it’s hard vodka. 

“Tell me,” you repeat.  “Tell me what?” 

Though you are talking to Jisung, you cannot help but look over at his… his…

His Felix. 

Felix smiles when he sees you.  He scrunches his nose cutely and it makes his constellation of dark freckles dance on his sunny face. 

The freckles have always been an intriguing part of his glamour – for his human-like appearance is a mask shrouding his true faerie form – because faeries typically regard such things as imperfections.   Perhaps the freckles are residual from his time in the human realm, as Jisung’s flurries are the opposite. 

Felix is unbelievably beautiful.  He is wearing mortal clothes but he does not look truly human.  There’s something in his movements, fluid and dance-like, sometimes too swift to perceive.  His blonde hair catches the light with a perfect glow at every angle, his slender frame flawlessly draped in a black long-coat and a flattering black sweater.  His lovely ringed fingers part the air with his little wave and his perfectly pink mouth curls up in a sweet smile.  His dark eyes seem to sparkle.  

He crosses the restaurant in a few strides, quicker than a human would.  He smiles the whole time. 

“Hello,” he says, his deep voice smooth as butter.  Or maybe you’re the butter, his voice the knife, gliding right down the centre of you and settling low in your belly.  It has always had that effect. 

“Felix, hello,” you say in that quivery way you always greet him.   You grew up with both Jisung and Felix but Felix flits off to the faerie world when it suits him, and every time he returns you find yourself awestruck by him, as if you had never truly seen him before. 

Jisung smacks his head down on the surface of the table.  You and Felix look at him, you with considerable more concern.  Felix just draws his mouth into a flat line, neither smiling nor frowning, more like he anticipated his… his… his Jisung would behave this way. 

“Is it okay if I sit?”  Felix asks, pointing to the spot beside Jisung.  Jisung is somewhat sprawled in the booth but this doesn’t seem to concern Felix.  When you nod, he smiles, smooths out his coat, and simply bumps Jisung with his hip to squish himself into the booth. 

Jisung whimpers again, resting his head on the wall and pouting at it. 

“So,” Felix says.  He folds his hands on the table and tips his head, looking at you.  “How are you doing these days, hmm?” 

Faeries are known for their decorum.  It can turn sour very quickly, but it is imperative to adhere to rules of hospitality and general politeness.  

It is still strange and unnerving to have a faerie prince plunk himself into your booth and smile at you so politely.  Especially when you haven’t seen Felix in more than a year.   A year and fifteen days, to be specific, because Jisung has counted them all.  Jisung complains endlessly when Felix visits but he complains even more when he’s gone for too long. 

You think Felix must have returned to the human realm a while ago.  Jisung is usually friendly when he firsts sees him, but right now he is glaring. 

“What?”  Felix looks at Jisung.  They cock their heads at each other, the same angle, same time. 

It is always funny seeing them side-by-side.  Singularly, they look nothing alike, perhaps because Felix has intentionally deviated his glamour from being identical.  Jisung has a round face, cartoonishly cute at times, his build bulkier from his somewhat erratic workout schedule.   Felix is all sharp lines with a pointed elegance to his features, though his presence fills what space his slender body does not.  Their only similarity is their hair, similarly bouncy, alike in length, and identically shaded.  Right now it is a matching blonde. 

Despite their ample differences, there is an uncanny sameness to them.  They move the same way, tip their heads at the same time, roll their eyes in tandem.  They even take a breath at the same time.  You are certain if you pressed a hand to each of their chests, you would find their hearts beating to the same steady cadence.   

Felix was once a changeling.  Faeries sometimes swap their infants for human ones, occasionally for fun, oftentimes when their offspring is sickly or malformed.  Once a changeling swap has occurred, the faerie and human are inexorably linked to one another.  If the human parents try to kill the faerie or let it die, it will also kill their child, so it is in their best interest to nurse the sickly baby and hope the faeries swap them back. 

Felix was born too soon, a shrivelled little creature, third son of the autumn high prince’s third wife.  His mother swapped him for Jisung, stealing the little mortal away in his infancy.  Jisung’s mother was not a bewildered, simpering mortal, however.  Her resilience and intelligence was part of the family’s initial allure, but it was also the downfall of the changeling operation.  She ventured into the faerie realm and won back her son, plus the right to see the lonely faerie prince that had been so unceremoniously abandoned by his unloving family. 

She returned to the mortal world with Jisung and Felix.  The changeling prince spent his childhood bouncing between the human realm and the world of faerie.   You grew up next door to Jisung and the three of you have been a tight-knit trio since before you can remember. 

You love Felix just as much as you love Jisung, it’s just that… the faerie-ness complicates things.  You aren’t sure Felix really loves you or Jisung in a way you understand.  Even now, his enquiry after your well-being seems more like a necessary script than genuine question.  He will be uneasy until you complete your side of the exchange. 

“I’m good, Felix,” you say.  “How are you?”

He smiles, freckles dancing.  “Good,” he says.  “Thank you.”  

Felix cracks his neck and Jisung is compelled to do the same, though he looks irritated about it.  The depth of their connection has always been ambiguous to you, but sometimes Jisung feels phantom aches and pains, urges that come out of nowhere and pester him like an itch until he satisfies them.  

He seems impatient today, his glare not subsiding for a second.  

“You said I could have time to tell her,” Jisung says. 

“I gave you time,” Felix replies calmly. 

“You gave me like five minutes, man!”

“It doesn’t take more than five minutes,” Felix  says.  He seems genuinely perplexed that Jisung would believe otherwise.  He looks at Jisung with a head tilt that Jisung mirrors, then they both look at you.  “Hi,” Felix says.  “Will you marry me?  See.  That was less than five minutes.  It was five syllables, actually.  Well, I guess if you had asked it, you would have said, ‘Will you marry Felix,’ so it would have been six syllables, but that’s still less than five minutes, even if you streeeeetch it ouuuut—”

“I’m gonna stretch you out,” Jisung says, then plants his forehead in his palm.  “That came out wrong.” 

Felix does not plant his forehead in his palm but he does rest his chin in his hand. 

“So,” he says to you, smiling. “Will you?  Two syllables, by the way.”

“Shut up about the syllables, dude.” 

“Wait,” you say, interrupting their inane blabber.  If you leave them to it, Jisung and Felix will dance in verbal circles for hours and still not clarify anything.  “Marry you?  Why would I— Felix, you know Jisung and I— I don’t understand what’s—”

You love Jisung and Felix.  You find them equally attractive, in their own way and as a complimentary pair.  As much as you adore Jisung, you feel bereft when Felix is gone for a long time.  Your crush on Felix was as inevitable as your romance with Jisung.  Only where that relationship has long since solidified into a stable love, you and Felix have never done much more than hug. 

Jisung and Felix, on the other hand, have shared their own intimacies.  You caught them kissing back when you were teenagers.  You got pouty rather than angry, viciously jealous of both of them at once.  Jisung was too flustered to speak, mostly chirping like a frightened bird, while Felix just smiled and cheerily said, “Jisungie says we’re practicing.”

“Practicing?” you asked, hands on hips.  “Practicing for what exactly?”

Felix frowned, looking confused, like it had never occurred to him to follow that line of questioning. 

“For girls!”  Jisung exclaimed. 

Felix snapped his fingers and nodded.  “Right,” he said.  “Girls. That was it.  Wait.”  He looked confused again and pointed to you. “Isn’t she a girl?” 

“She doesn’t count,” Jisung said, getting redder by the second.  You threw a shoe at him and stormed out of the house. 

That was a long time ago.  That momentary flicker of suggestion was the only time Felix brought up potentially kissing you.  Even then, it seemed less desirous than pragmatic.  

And now, for some reason, he is asking you to marry him. 

“Oh my god, man, maybe if you used more than five syllables, she would get what’s going on,” Jisung says.  His gaze softens when he looks at you.  He reaches across the table to take your hand, though it takes you a second to respond.  Your fingers are frozen stiff around your mug.  “Baby,” he says in a soft, apologetic voice, “I know it sounds a bit strange, but I promise I can explain.” 

“I have to get married,” Felix interrupts, ignoring when Jisung scowls at him.  “I think it’s just for, uhhh, appearances, basically.  My brother Chan just became high prince and I’m the only one of my mum’s kids who isn’t married and she thinks it makes her look bad because all my dad’s other kids have their lives together… anyway, she said either I find a bride for myself or she was going to give me one.  And, uh, she’s not very, hmm, generous, is she?”

Definitely a rhetorical question.  You do not need to have met the faerie princess to know of her predilection for malice.  Felix would most likely be saddled with some Shakespearean donkey-headed monstrosity for all his days.  Felix, being Felix, would smile blithely and accept his awful fate, saying little on the matter when prompted. 

Felix is like that.  He shows neither amity nor animosity to much.  His emotions, whatever they are, manifest unpredictably.  He smiles a lot of blank smiles.  Occasionally he bursts into random tears that flood out of him with terrifying distress.  It comes upon him unexpectedly, so big that it is almost theatrical.  You think he might be mimicking expressions of human pain to convey whatever interior hurt he is feeling, however severe or benign, then it just stops until next time.  

He is not the sort to wail and harass you.  Even if he was desperate, he would not force you to marry him.  Looking into his dark eyes, you know that much.  There are plenty of stories the world over where supernatural princes steal mortal girls from their beds, where they compel them to dance until their feet bleed, where they fill their heads with songs that play until the human goes mad and dies in some anguished pit in their own mind. 

There are not many stories where they propose in a café.

“Felix, you idiot!”  Jisung smacks Felix on the arm.  “You didn’t even tell her the important part.” 

“Oh yeaaah,” Felix says. 

Jisung scoffs and looks at you, his expression soft again.  He squeezes your hand.

“Baby,” he says, “you know how Felix and I have a special, um, connection?” 

You know he means the changeling magic but you think about them kissing.  You push the image aside, as well as the lingering jealously, and nod. 

“Right,” Jisung says.  “We’re like… tied together and shit, right?  Like if I got hit by a bus, Felix would also go splat.”

“Faeries don’t splat,” Felix says, bristled. 

“Splat,” Jisung says sweetly, “like a big stupid faerie pancake.” 

“Jisung,” you say, “are you going to make a point?” 

“The point,” Jisung says, “is Felix is gonna live a long time, if he doesn’t go splat.  So that means… I’m gonna live a long time too.”

“If,” Felix interrupts, “he comes with me to live among the folk.” 

The fair folk.  Another name for the courtly fae.  Divided into seasonal realms, the four courts host a variety of faerie life.  Felix is from the autumn court and Jisung was spirited to it as baby.  You have never crossed from this world into the faerie world.  You know the stories better than anyone, almost more familiar with the foreign realm than the world around you, but its reality has only ever been a distant dream. 

This seems like the world’s strangest break-up: your boyfriend leaving you for his changeling faerie to live an immortal life in the faerie realm.

Except it’s not a break-up.  It’s a proposal. 

“I have no idea what’s happening right now,” you say, juggling feelings of confusion and jealousy and desire.  “What does that have to me with me?  And getting married?” 

“It will bond us together too,” Felix says, smiling again.  “Do you understand?  Isn’t that wonderful?  The three of us can be together for always.  I think you’ll really like it.”  He looks sideways at Jisung and adds, “And you’re smarter than him when it comes to the fair folk.  I would feel better if Jisung had your company.”

“What?” Jisung slaps the table.  “What are you talking about?  I’m the one who’s been there!  I am so totally super smart about faeries all the time!” 

“You once ate a magic apple and grew a tail,” Felix says.   

“You know I get snacky after my naps.  Besides, I got better.  Suck on some salty iron and boom, no tail.” 

Felix sighs, exasperated, and Jisung sighs, even more exasperated. 

“Please marry me,” Felix says imploringly.  “For all of us.” 

Felix cannot lie.  Faerie magic ranges from miniscule to immense, but lying is an impossibility regardless of rank. 

An inability to lie does not guarantee honesty. The truth can be obfuscated.  Faeries are clever with words, cleverer still what they reveal at all.  

Felix has not lied.  He needs to marry.  It would bond you.  You are smarter than Jisung when it comes to the fair folk.

Felix has not told the whole truth.  He does not need to marry you specifically.  He would be happy with just Jisung, you think.  They have something special, something you have always watched from the outside.  You know a lot about faeries but you do not belong to their world.  Felix could keep Jisung safe.  You are a spare. 

Despite the loving stare of your two oldest friends, you feel woefully insecure.  You take your hands back and rest them in your lap, staring morosely into your cooling hot chocolate. 

“Baby?” Jisung says gently.

You look up.  They look equally concerned.  They reach for you at the same time then look at each other.  They mutely come to an accord and Felix takes your hand.  You shiver immediately. 

“Sweetheart,” Felix says.  “It’s just me.  I won’t… I won’t make you do something you don’t want to do, but I… I want to know… I mean, do you not…”

“You don’t want to come with us?”  Jisung asks, his bottom lip wobbling.  Tears spill over his cheeks seconds later.  “I-I-I know it’s a bit weird.  But you’ve always talked about wanting to see it anyway.   And you don’t have any family here anymore.  Are you worried about the royal court thing?  Because I’m gonna be there and Felix says we’ll spend most of our time at his bower anyway and okay I don’t even know what that means and I didn’t wanna seem stupid so I didn’t ask—”

“It’s just my tree-house, Jisung,” Felix says.

“It’s just his tree-house,” Jisung sobs. 

“It isn’t that,” you say.  You reach for Jisung so you are holding both their hands.  You give them a squeeze.  “I love you both.  So much.  It hurts a little sometimes because of how much.  And I’m scared… I’m scared of being left behind.” 

They both pause.  Felix looks more bewildered than any supernatural creature in history, you are sure.  They are inviting you to come along and you express fear of the opposite.  It must be incomprehensible to his mind. 

Apparently it also confuses Jisung because he softly whispers, “What the fuck.”

You bring their hands together and withdraw your own touch. 

“I just mean…”  You are too embarrassed to vocalize it. 

Recognition lights their eyes at the same time.  Jisung rips his hand away. 

“I can’t be alone with Felix forever!”  Jisung cries.  “Are you crazy?  We need you!  Without you it’s just… just… just us.  It’s nothing, it’s empty.  You… you’re our person.  If you’re not there too… then… then… then I’m not going either.  I’d rather get old and die with you than live forever without you.” 

Felix’s mouth opens and closes with a storm of unspoken thoughts.  He has sobbed spectacularly at birthday cards and scraped knees, but he doesn’t cry now. 

Jisung’s exclamation rattles you.  It was such a genuine burst of emotion, so rich with devotion that you feel silly for ever doubting either of them.  Empty, he said.  You never considered what kind of echo might exist between them, how your presence filled it and made it better, not worse. 

You intend to remedy your blunder, an apology on your lips, but then Felix finds his words.

“I’ll tell you my name,” he says.  “My true name.  Will that be enough to convince you?”

Enough?

Enough?

You and Jisung stare at Felix with your jaws dropped.  Felix clenches his jaw, staring back at you. 

Faeries go by many names in their long lifetimes.  Felix was the name Jisung’s mother gave him, but it is not his true faerie name.  Names are powerful things.  If a mortal has a faerie’s true name, they can ensorcell and compel that faerie to do their bidding.  It essentially enslaves them. 

Faeries do not freely reveal their true names, not to other faeries and certainly not to mortals.  Tricky mortals have uncovered faerie names, stories of humans triumphing over wicked creatures, but you cannot think of a single story where the faerie got down on one knee and willingly offered it.

Because that’s what Felix does.  He gets out of the booth and gets down on one knee in front of you, then looks up at you with dark, desperate eyes. 

“I’ll tell you right now if that’s what it takes,” he says.  His hands are shaking.  The wind starts knocking at the window again, harder than before.  Leaves form columns of colour, shooting up to the sky, scattering in every direction. 

“Don’t,” you say.  “Don’t.”  The trust this requires is extraordinarily substantial.  It means more than any simple I love you.  Maybe Felix feels human love or maybe he feels something different.  Maybe losing you is not like losing a person, but like losing a limb or something equally vital.  It must be, for him to offer up his entire being in a word. 

The gesture means more than you can say.  The best way to reciprocate it is by refusing it. 

“It’s enough,” you say, choked up.  “It’s enough that you would offer.” 

“I’ll tell you,” he says, like he thinks you don’t believe him.  But of course you believe him.  He can’t lie. 

“I know,” you say.  “I’m sorry I doubted you.  Come here please.” 

Felix sits beside you and lets you wrap your arms around his neck.  He is tentative at first but then he looks at Jisung and holds you tighter.   The world outside settles once more. 

“Wow, that was intense,” Jisung says.  He grabs a napkin and blows his nose.  “Wheeew.  Wednesdays, am I right?”  

Felix pulls back, just enough so he can see your face.  You feel shy under his rapt attention, flush with warmth when his fingertips sweep from your temple to your jaw.  He holds your chin and tilts your face up.  He seems to be studying you.  This close, you can see all the shades of brown in his eyes, even flecks of dark, dark green and threads of gold.  There is a shimmer to the black of his iris.  If he turned a certain way, you think his glamour would disappear.  You think he would be beautiful anyway. 

He exhales.  His breath flutters over your lips. 

“Will you come with us?” he asks, his deep voice rumbling so soft and low.  “Will you marry me?”

You look at Jisung.  You cannot imagine any circumstance in which a man would look so eager for his girlfriend to accept another man’s proposal, yet this feels completely normal. 

Normal.  The three of you have always had your own definition of that word, haven’t you? 

You look at Felix, at the shimmer of his bold gaze.  

“Yes,” you say.  “Yes, I will.” 

Felix smiles and Jisung lets out a whoop!  You laugh, turning aside to wipe an unbidden tear from your eye.  Felix touches your cheek.  He looks more entranced than anything, blinking long and slow like a content cat. 

Jisung is still celebrating.  He shoves half your croissant in his mouth while you are distracted.  Then, with his cheeks stuffed full of pastry, his eyes get wide. 

“Ohyeah, weforgotsumffing!” he says around a mouthful of food.  He coughs, swallowing too quickly.  Felix clears his throat and passes Jisung your mug.  Jisung gulps it down while you and Felix exchange an affectionate glance.  

Then Jisung clinks the cup on the table and looks at you, sheepish. 

“Haha,” he says.  “By the way, you have to fuck Felix.” 

-

There are entrances to faerie in the deepest part of the woods.  Doorways are found in unlikely patterns that most humans will declare peculiar but innocuous: rings of spotted mushrooms, circular patches of darkening grass, shadows that arch with a perfect curve beneath a canopy of leaves.   

You have known this all your life, but you also knew to never go looking.  Not on your own.  A mortal wandering into faerie is not so different from a lamb wandering into a wolf den.  

Even with a wolf escort, you feel like that vulnerable lamb.  You hold hands with Jisung the entire trek, trailing behind Felix who hums as he lightly dances his way through even the harshest terrain.  Finally you come across two branches, twining up and up until they tangle like two hands clasping across a chasm.  

Winded from the exertion of the hike, you and Jisung come to a slow stop to catch your breaths.  Felix hurries ahead, his face brightening as he approaches the archway. 

“You ready?”  Jisung asks, squeezing your hand.

“Yeah,” you say.  “You?”

“Oh, hell yeah, baby,” he says with a laugh.  You look at him only to find his gaze turned on the archway, faraway with reminiscence.  “I remember it, you know,” he says.

“What?” you ask.  Jisung has never mentioned this before. “But you were just a baby.”

He looks at you with surprise, like he didn’t expect an answer.  Maybe he didn’t mean to say it out loud.  He laughs, deflecting the tension, and rubs the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, I know,” he says.  “Magic I guess, or something.  I dunno.  I just know I remember it.  There’s stuff that happened last week I can’t remember.  In a year, or fifty, or a hundred, I don’t know what I’ll remember from here.  But I remember this place like I never left.” 

You squeeze his hand again.  He looks at you and smiles, squeezing back. 

“Come on!”  Felix calls.  He is standing at the archway, waving to you.  He is wearing jeans and a t-shirt, a leather satchel slung across his chest.  The mundanity of his clothing looks unnatural.  If he looked inhuman in that café, he looks even less human now.  His glamour is in tact, his freckles pronounced, but there is a quality to him that defies logic.  He looks like he could take off flying and it would not be unusual. 

You and Jisung exchange a final glance then approach.  Felix smiles and walks backwards through the archway.  You can see him clearly as if he merely took another step in the woods.  He holds out his hands, you and Jisung taking one each, then you step through as well. 

Oh.

October orange sunlight pours through the trees, the early sunset colour of a clear autumn day at its close.  The woods are a mosaic of colour: green, orange, yellow, red, brown, little swirls of leaves flying from branch to branch, gathering in piles and scattering again.  You watch leaves settle over a pile of bones only for the whole apparatus to knit itself together.  You stumble to a surprised stop as a cat made of bones and leaves unfurls before your eyes.  It scampers up to Felix, rattling like an ivory windchime and somehow still purring.  Felix scratches behind its leafy ears, smiling and greeting the kitty affectionately. 

“Come on,” Felix says, not noticing the way you and Jisung are completely arrested by the sight of the cat.  “It’s not far from here.” 

It is the domicile of the autumn court.   It is built into the woods, or swallowed by it, grand structures built within and around trees, some abodes very high in the sunlit branches, some disappearing into the ground.  They are decorated with garlands of dried flowers, gardens of gourds and harvest fruit weaving around the lower rooms.  You jump, startled, when a pile of nearby leaves rises up, revealing itself to be a deer, presumably also made of bones beneath its leafy surface. 

“Whoa,” Jisung says, an apt summary.   The leaf animals have no eyes, the faces uncanny.  The deer turns its neck with a click of bone, dipping its head in a respectful bow to Felix as he passes. 

Felix doesn’t notice.  He is watching you and Jisung now, smiling with so much mirth you think he might start glowing. 

“Do you like it?” he asks, looking directly at you.  Maybe he knows what Jisung is feeling without asking.  You try to school your expression to show more than just awe. 

“It’s beautiful,” you say.  You can see how a mortal could be a swept away by the beauty of the faerie court.  Between the glitter of crunchy leaves and the wafts of cinnamon and spice, it fantastically overwhelms the senses.  You can also see how quickly this dream could turn into a nightmare, if the sun was eclipsed and the undead creatures of the earth turned their vacant eyes on you.

You do not convey the complexity of your thoughts.  Felix takes for granted that you always tell the truth, even though he knows you can lie.  You think he sometimes forgets.   His whole face crinkles up with a smile now, maybe too severely, but you appreciate his attempt to render delight for you. 

“A little further to the palace,” Felix says. 

“Palaaace,” Jisung says in a sing-song, squeezing your hand.  He almost knocks you over when a bird swoops by his head.  This raven is real, not made of leaves, and it perches on Felix’s shoulder.  “Birds,” Jisung says woefully.  “There’s always a freaky-ass bird.” 

“This is one of mine,” Felix says, scratching its head.  “I think my brother sent it.”

You watch as the bird leans in, eerily person-like in how it seems to whisper in his ear before fluttering off.   Felix neither smiles nor frowns, his mouth drawing into a thin line as he comes to a halt.

“What is it?”  Jisung asks.  His startled tone reveals that Felix might be perturbed. 

“They’re expecting us,” Felix says, gazing ahead as if he can see your destination through all the foliage.  “They’re already preparing our wedding.”

“What?” you and Jisung say at the same time.  You look at each other then you ask, “Did you tell them already?”  Felix only proposed yesterday and he has not returned to the faerie realm, unless he snuck away overnight, but you don’t think so.  He spent the night with you and Jisung, Jisung insisting on being the little spoon between two big spoons.  Felix had his arm around Jisung and his hand in yours all night. 

“No,” Felix answers.  “I didn’t say anything yet.”

“This feels spoooooky,” Jisung sings, then laughs nervously. 

“Maybe,” Felix says with a casual shrug of his shoulders.  “Maybe not.  Let’s go.” 

You and Jisung exchange another look, but you have gone too far to turn around, so you follow Felix.  He leads you to a red-bricked path that thickens with moss the further you walk.    When you reach the base of a hill, Felix stops to hold your hand. 

“Don’t look back until I say,” he says.  “You could fall.  Keep your eyes on me or the cat.  She knows the way too.” 

The cat is running around your feet, mewling, though the clack of its jaws is louder than its airy voice.  You decide to look at Felix instead.  Apparently Jisung picks the cat because he coos, “Aww, she’s kinda cute in a freaky way.  What’s her name?” 

“Babyeater,” Felix says. 

“Oh nooo,” Jisung replies.

You follow Felix and the cat up an incline that grows so steep that at one point you are walking perpendicular to the forest below.   You look at Felix the whole time, squeezing his hand tightly.   His returned squeeze is reassuring.  You remind yourself this is Felix, the same boy who kissed your scraped knees better, who sat through all your childhood tea parties even though he never really understood the concept of playing pretend, the same boy who has dutifully and lovingly obliged your every whim, however much he failed to understand its human purpose.  For Felix, it was always enough if it made you happy. 

He leads you safely over the crest of the hill, then it’s just a few more steps through a darker patch of woods before you are stepping into a huge clearing, bright and orange and gold.   Three massive, broad trees stand in the distance, an elaborate stone citadel built around the trunks.   There are faeries and other supernatural entities wandering around an autumnal garden, some scurrying with bundles of lights and candles and drapery.   The clearing and castle have been beautifully and frightfully decorated with pumpkins and dried flowers and bones. 

“Is this for us?”  Jisung asks.  “Uh, I mean, for you?”

“It looks like it,” Felix says uncertainly.  “I don’t know how they—”

Jisung screams, a proper shrill yell right in your ear, when something bursts out of some shrubbery and blocks his path.  You stumble back with wide-eyed surprise and Jisung instinctively shields you even in his terror.  Felix is not scared, his face neutral as ever, but his connection to Jisung has him reacting similarly, guarding you with his body. 

An eyeless husk straightens itself, bony limbs stretching for the sky.  You hear the crack of a neck-bone and the flutter of leaves, then all at a once a glamour settles over the faerie, revealing a handsome young man with short brown hair and dark eyes. 

“He’s still loud,” the faerie says.  “You were loud as a baby too.  Wahhh-wahhhh-wahhhhhh—” 

“Seungmin,” Felix says, nonplussed.  “Thank you for the raven.” 

Felix bows and the faerie, Seungmin, who must be the aforementioned brother, bows back as per the dictation of decorum. 

“Chan is mad he had to find out the news from Hyunjin,” Seungmin says, his mouth quirked in a smirky little half-smile.  “You better to be ready to grovel.”   

“Ah,” Felix says.   He looks over at you and Jisung who are clinging to each other, still wide-eyed with surprise.  “Hyunjin is a prince from the spring court,” Felix says.  “He can see the future.”

“Oh,” Jisung says.  “Yeah, sure, makes sense.”  He looks at you with a face that says, it definitely does not make sense. 

“Spring court,” Seungmin says with a little eye-roll.  “They burst in here with a dramatic fuss like always.  It’s embarrassing that the high prince of autumn learned about his favourite little brother’s engagement from a different court...”

“I can’t help that Hyunjin sees the future,” Felix says, more disgruntled than you have ever heard him.  It occurs to you, as you look between him and Seungmin, that Felix stands out here just as much as he did in the human world.  It is different, as here it is the little cracks of humanity that fracture his faerie face.  Not just the glamour, the freckles or his clothes, but some intrinsic bearing.   Maybe it is the sameness to Jisung, the way they block you with the same stance, the way they shuffle on the same foot.  Maybe it’s something else, but it is suddenly pronounced. 

Seungmin does not appear to notice Felix’s tone.  He just gives another bow which Felix is forced to return.  You see Jisung twitching and you squeeze his hand. 

“You don’t have to bow,” you whisper.    

“I know,” he says, then bobs twice in an aborted half-bow. 

You sigh.  You jump when Jisung shrieks again, startled by a little leaf-dog that comes running out of the shrubbery.  It is being pursued by some frantic sprites.  They yammer at the puppy in a faerie tongue as it starts to chase the cat.  All their bones are clattering as they run around, cat then dog then sprites.  Seungmin blinks at the fiasco then looks at Felix. 

“Let’s go,” Seungmin says.  He turns and gives you a bow, as is polite, then looks at Jisung and says, “Boo!” 

Jisung jumps and Seungmin cackles, bowing. 

Felix gives Seungmin a little shove, his mouth a grim line again. 

You follow Seungmin further into the garden, coming upon a feast that seems to be currently underway even while servants continue to set the party around the guests.   Food appears and disappears off the table, some faeries eating and some of them throwing food at the servants.   You have heard stories of ensorcelled human servants being trapped in places like this, but you only see faeries so far.  It doesn’t put you at ease exactly, but you don’t feel quite as frightened. 

Then all the faerie guests at the grand table stop and look at you.   Then you are frightened. 

“Hi,” Jisung squeaks. 

It is nervously and thoughtlessly blurted, but it would be impolite to ignore it, so a chorus of “hi” and “hello” circles the table in return. 

Most of them have a glamour of some kind.  A stockier, handsome faerie with bright orange hair stands.   He is on the other side of the long banquet table but manifests in front of you in mere seconds.  You are very alarmed to find him wearing bandages under a black army coat, the white wraps stained with blood.  It is very at odds with his deeply dimpled smile. 

“Hi there,” he says, looking past Jisung and straight at you.  “Wow, Felix really did it.  Welcome.  Call me Chan.  Sorry for the, ah, blood, I think it upsets humans?”  This apology seems sincere enough, accompanied with a tilt of the head, but he offers no further explanation.  He pulls you into an embrace, tucking you into the fold of one muscular arm, and laughing with an unexpectedly adorable giggliness.  “We have a human little sister.  That’s fun, yeah?”  He looks at the table and everyone nods and claps, only a few characters mutely unresponsive. 

You smile, maybe.  It feels a bit boxy.  Your brain is fitting all the pieces together, recalling that Seungmin referred to Chan as the high prince of autumn.   Chan is thus the highest font of power in this faerie court and he is hugging you. 

The hug pulls you away from Jisung who moves closer to Felix.  You look at them, watching as they hold hands, trying to convey with your eyes that you would rather be with them.

There is no time for any extraction attempt because a fuss stirs at one end of the table.  A pink-haired faerie bursts out of his seat.  He is long-limbed, tall and spindly, and he runs around the huge table at a fairly human speed.  He is wearing a billowy green jacket and a long string of pearls, his pastel appearance at some odds to the deepness of the autumn court. 

“Hey Fee-lix! Heeey!” he says, very literally bouncing when he reaches Felix.   

“Aha, hi, Hyunjin,” Felix says.   

“You brought humans!”  Hyunjin says, sweeping down to look at Jisung, then turning his dark-eyed stare to you.  His glamour is astonishingly beautiful, as bright as his pearls, a face like a handsome marble statue and a supermodel’s stature.  But he slinks like a ferret, as smirky as a fox.   “The bride,” he says with something of a wistful sigh.  His dark eyes are sparkling.  “A faerie and a human.  How romantic.  I love romance.” 

Then you are freed from hugging Chan, but only because Hyunjin cups your face in both hands and kisses you.  Not a greeting kiss either, but a deep kiss.  You sputter when he licks you. 

“Um,” Jisung squeaks. 

“This is High Prince Hyunjin.  Of the spring court, of course,” Chan says amiably, not doing anything to stop the high prince of the spring court from sucking face with his brother’s bride. 

Hyunjin stops on his own, smiling at you fondly.  “Pretty girl,” he says, stroking his whole hand over your face.  “I wish I could marry you.”  This is spoken without much longing, but it must be true or he couldn’t say it.   

He turns his sights on Jisung next.  Jisung straightens, eyes darting around for an escape. 

“The changeling baby,” Hyunjin says.  “He’s so cute now.  Can I marry this one, Felix?” 

Jisung’s eyes widen, looking at Felix, then at you. 

Felix looks unamused.  “No,” he says simply. 

Hyunjin pouts, slinking up to Jisung.  He grabs his face, long fingers grasping him tight.  Jisung’s lips part with surprise, his cheeks puffing when Hyunjin shakes his head around. 

“That’s not fair,” Hyunjin says.  “You already have one.” 

“I said no,” Felix repeats. 

Hyunjin just sighs.  “I knew you’d say that,” he says.  “Oh well.”  Then he kisses Jisung full on the mouth too, Jisung squeaking through the very wet onslaught.  Hyunjin just smiles and strokes his face, then goes back to the table. 

Hyunjin’s self-introduction triggers a similar desire in the remaining guests.  Soon they are swarming you, forced into the vaguest semblance of a queue when Chan waves a demanding hand.  You meet Felix’s mother, who smiles and coos at you like she didn’t mandate a wife in the first place.  You meet Changbin, another half-brother of Felix, who thankfully follows the example set by Chan and not Hyunjin and simply hugs you.  He is so burly and strong that it lifts you off your feet, but he has enough restraint not to crush you, so that’s something.  

There are clusters of other faeries, all noisy, all dipping in bows or trying to kiss you, and all of them from the spring or autumn court.   A hush falls over the garden when the remaining guests approach for an introduction.  Felix finally appears at your side, Jisung too, standing on either side of you and holding your hands. 

“Winter and Summer,” Felix whispers as two courtly fae and their retinues step forward. 

You know very well why Felix deigns to warn you.  The autumn court and spring court, as per their seasonal equivalents, are shifting and transitory in many ways; they grow and they learn, and they often host humans, be it in a generous or malicious capacity.  The winter and summer courts are hostile to change, and both have little to do with humans at all.  Whatever human encounters have transpired in those courts have left few survivors to speak of it. 

Their glamours fit them strangely, like new clothes not yet broken in.   The first prince wears his glamour like a boy forced into dress clothes by a parent, walking with a stiff sort of discomfort.  His robes are coloured blue and yellow, long and loose, his blonde hair turning dark blue at the root.  His dimples are deep and cheekbones very sharp, and when he smiles he reveals a whole row of long, piercing teeth that he forgot to glamour altogether. 

You jump, staring aghast as the otherwise too-pretty prince sweeps into a bow.  He looks at Chan, sees him smiling, and copies the expression with a frightful brightness. 

“Prince Jeongin,” Felix says.  He squeezes your hand, reminding you to bow back. You do so swiftly.  “Summer.” 

“High Prince,” Jeongin says, laughing for some reason, a wheezing sound. 

“You have fourteen older brothers,” Felix says. 

“Had.”  Jeongin smiles again, his dimples deepening, his teeth glittering.  “I ate them.” 

“Oh,” Felix says. There is a pause as he looks at you then looks at Jeongin.  Your face reveals terror, you are certain, but Jeongin is waiting expectantly.  Felix weighs his words and says, “Uh.  You must be happy to be congratulated.” 

You wonder how you ever thought Felix was strange.  He seems so normal suddenly, the only one who finds something wrong with a person eating fourteen brothers.  If he did approve, he would not have to word his congratulations so strangely to avoid a lie. 

Unless he just did that to appease you, a small voice says in the back of your head. A different truth is not a lie.

You wish you were not such an overthinker.  This is Felix.   Your Felix.  Yours, yours.   As much yours as Jisung, who is breathing a little heavier, so it makes Felix breathe heavier, and their combined strain has you close to panting as well. 

You are thus all breathless when you meet the final prince, introduced as High Prince Minho of the winter court.  He is wearing dark clothes, apparently sans his usual furry winter accoutrements, and his glamour is a barely-there mask that vanishes when the light hits him at certain angles.  He wears it like a loosely tied scarf, grudgingly donned.  He has not glamoured his eyes, mismatched and vibrant and vacant of all human emotion.  He does not smile when he bows.   Like Jeongin, he does not hug or kiss you. 

He looks you over, his stare raking, then he does the same to Jisung.  Whatever he sees makes him laugh, though it is a derisive sound.   Then he looks at Felix and says, “They’re fragile.  Be careful, changeling.” 

When he leaves, Jisung whispers, “Honestly, that last one got me kinda hard.”

“Yeah,” Felix says, unhappily, “I know.”   

And just like that, you are trying very hard not to laugh. 

You look at Felix and find his returned gaze to be very affectionate.  You always thought his regards looked a little too precise, like he was concentrating on forming the appropriate expression, but compared to certain toothy grins and cold laughs, Felix looks positively alight with sentiment.   He still looks strange in his t-shirt and jeans, but you think he might look strange anyway. 

It never occurred to you before that Felix’s changeling life might have made him an oddity on both sides of the veil. 

You feel a pang of sympathy, suddenly. 

Felix looks down at where you are holding his hand.  You see his gaze flit across to where you hold Jisung’s hand as well.  It exacerbates that pang in your chest, recalling your own jealousy when you found them kissing, plus all the years spent wishing you shared their magical connection.  It never occurred to you that Felix might feel some type of way about you dating Jisung, about you and Jisung both being human.  Maybe it reminded he was an outcast wherever he went.  Always very close to being part of something, never quite belonging. 

Funny enough, Jisung has always been significantly more blasé.   He sets his sights on what he wants and it never occurs to him that he will not have it.  He has Felix, he dates you, you marry Felix, he lives forever.  You look at your human boyfriend, at the way his dark eyes seem to sparkle as he looks around the garden.  You think somehow, despite his occasional shrieks and frights, he looks more home here than Felix. 

“Right then!”  Chan suddenly claps in your face, startling you.  “It’s wedding time, yeah?  We’ve never had a human wedding here before but Hyunjin is an expert so he helped us out…” 

Two faerie servants rip you away from Felix and Jisung.  Hyunjin follows you, looking very keen, his hands clasped behind his back but his whole face lit up brightly.  His eagerness does not put you at ease, nor are you reassured by his seemingly “expert” advice.  Seeing as he thought it was appropriate to introduce himself by making out with you, you sincerely doubt he is the human expert he has proclaimed himself to be.  

Sure enough, the slapdash preparations are very random.  You are shoved into a very pretty dress, but then Hyunjin attempts to adorn you with both a veil and a headpiece, and you can see an array of other accessories from international wedding regalia.  Being as polite as possible, you decline the offer to any headpiece at all.   

“Wow,” Hyunjin says, cupping your face.  “You are so humble.  Humans are so amazing, the way they just let themselves be ugly.  Wow.  Wow.  I won’t interfere with your hideous but humble head.  Should we kiss again?”        

“I think it’s better we don’t,” you say.  “It might wrinkle the dress?”

He nods sagely.  “That would be bad,” he agrees.  “Especially because your head is so bare and horrible.  The dress is doing all the work.  Can I put flowers in your hair or do you really prefer to be ugly?” 

“Uh, flowers, yeah, sure,” you say.  He says everything so frankly that you somehow can’t feel offended.  A compliment would feel just as meaningless. 

“I’ve always wanted to attend a human wedding,” Hyunjin says.  “You know, spring is a very popular time for human weddings.  But humans are always dying so fast after, so it makes me sad to watch them properly.” 

“You feel sadness?” you ask.  Though Hyunjin and Felix seem quite different, perhaps you can glean an answer to the depth of faerie emotions.  Especially considering this marriage business feels like an entirely different beast now that you are in a wedding dress with an entire congregation of faeries sitting in a garden waiting for you.  It seemed like a simpler affair when it was just Felix and Jisung in a café booth.     

“Oh, of course,��� Hyunjin says.  “I feel sad all the time.  I feel sad right now because you aren’t marrying me.”  He says this with a great deal of joviality, smiling at you like he’s proud of his supposed sadness.  

You decide not to ask more questions on that front, because you doubt his answers will be very helpful.  You do enquire after the wedding festivities.  You try not to frown at the very random assemblage of traditions he has baked into a single ceremony.  It sounds like a tedious affair but you decide to brace it, supposing it could be worse. 

“Then we all watch the royal consummation,” Hyunjin says casually, adding another flower to your hair. 

You grab his wrist without thinking, stopping him.

“Did I stab you?” he asks, blowing on your head to check for blood.  “Sorry.  I keep forgetting pins in heads kill humans.”  He says this with a lot of exasperation, like it’s a personal inconvenience to him that humans die so easily. 

“No, it’s not that,” you say.  He pops another peony on your head, manifesting the little buds out of thin air.  “What do you mean ‘we all watch the royal consummation?’  Who is ‘we’?”  

“The high princes, obviously,” he says, tucking a rose behind your ear. 

You stare ahead, mouth hanging open. 

Yesterday seems so long ago now, but Jisung and Felix did explain to you that the autumn court required an act of consummation to legitimize the marriage.  Apparently it has nothing to do with virginity or rearing heirs, mostly functioning as a ritual for the sake of itself.  Once faeries decide something is a rule they must follow it. 

You were very hot in the face the entire conversation.  Jisung seemed content to describe the way you need would have sex with his changeling faerie, but you were too embarrassed to meet either gaze. 

Maybe it would have been easier if you did not want to sleep with Felix. If it was just a necessity, it would be meaningless.

But you very much do desire Felix, even if he only smiled blithely during the discussion.  He seemed unaffected while you were very flustered. 

This is a very different type of flustered. 

“I was not told there would be an audience,” you finally say.

“There isn’t usually,” Hyunjin says.  “But that’s how human princes do it, if I remember.  A whole council watches.  Felix doesn’t have a council, though, so we’ll have to do it.  It would be very rude not to indulge your human traditions.  There!  All done.”

He steps back to admire your appearance.  You are still frazzled from the conversation, from the strong floral scent that is now wrapped around you, from everything. 

“You look—”  Hyunjin pauses, then, “—not horrible at all!  I did a very good job.  Now the wedding can start.  I’ll tell Chan to start killing the sacrificial wedding goats.   We only have one and it’s made of leaves and bones but I assumed that would be okay with you.  This way we can just keep killing the same one over and over again.  I’ll be right back.” 

“Can I—”  You feel panicked.  You need to see Jisung.  Hyunjin has you sequestered in some little golden alcove.  You do not want to be hunted down if you just flee, so you ask, “Can I go look at myself in a mirror?” 

“You’re testing me,” Hyunjin says, his long fingers covering his mouth with a surprised gasp.  Then he giggles.  “I passed!  I know you can’t look at the bride before the wedding.  Wait here!”  Then he disappears out the gate and around the corner. 

You sit down in a huff and close your eyes.  You try counting backwards from one hundred to calm yourself, but you reach the low twenties and still feel tense.   

Then you hear the patter of human footsteps.  You know it is a human because faeries scarcely disturb the ground where they walk.  You hear the crunch of leaves and lift your head, feeling a rush of relief with Jisung pokes his head into the alcove. 

“There you are,” he says.  “Felix is – uh – they’re getting him – dressed – and I wanted –  wanted you—” 

You stand as he talks, as his voice drifts, as his breath catches.  He looks down the length of your dress then back up, his dark eyes watery as he exhales with a gut-punching whoosh. 

“You look so beautiful, baby,” he says.  “This – this feels weird.  I know it’s – weird.  But it’s not – it’s not wrong, right?  It’s just weird.  But weird isn’t bad.   It’s just—”

“Weird,” you say, with a little laugh.  “Yeah.  I know.” 

He smiles softly.  He wore his glasses here but he has since put in contacts.  His hair is neatly styled and he changed into slightly nicer clothes, still human world, but very handsome in his black pants and black shirt.  He is so handsome that for a moment you forget about all your worries, taking a step towards him with your hand extended.  He catches that hand, bringing it to his shoulder.  He sweeps you into a kiss that banishes all your bad thoughts, the familiar taste and feel of him engulfing you.   You sink your fingers in his hair, parting your lips under the press of his mouth. 

It's him who ends the kiss, breathlessly, stuttering, “S-sorry, wait.  I came here to tell – to tell you – the consummation – that pink guy—”

“I know,” you say with a cringe.  You bury your face in his neck.  “Ugh, a bunch of faeries are gonna watch me have sex.” 

“Faeries and me!” he says with a nervous laugh. 

“Huh!”

“I tried to stop it, but no one would really listen to me,” he says.  “Someone only listened when I said it was weird for a guy to watch his little brother have sex, and some people agreed, so Prince Chan said I should take his place, since there were no faeries of equal rank to him and at least I was human.”  He slaps a hand to his forehead.  “Sorry.  I tried.” 

“Oh, Jisung,” you say, giggling a little helplessly at your morose boyfriend.  “How do you get yourself into these situations?” 

“You’re wearing a wedding dress!” he replies. 

“That’s only because I know you!” 

“Your life would have been very boring without me,” Jisung says, smiling. 

“I know,” you say.  “It would have been awful.” 

Because for as strange as all this faerie nonsense is, you cannot imagine a world where you never knew Jisung, where you never knew Felix, where you never had this love in your life, as messy and jealous and complicated as it has been at times. 

You tip your head, gazing into Jisung’s eyes.  He shivers when you twirl a bit of his hair around your finger. 

“Jisungie,” you say, thinking of your own jealousy, of Felix’s confounding glances.  “Do you ever feel jealous at all?”

“Of what?” he asks, totally innocent.

“I don’t know,” you say.  You are not sure how to explain it without seeming ridiculous, which puts it into some perspective.  “I mean, me and Felix are about to… you know.”

“Uh, yeah.  That’s okay.  I don’t want to have sex in front of the cannibal faerie,” Jisung says, making you laugh.  “Not a joke!” 

“I know, I know.”  You kiss his cheek. 

“I couldn’t be jealous of you two,” he says, looking contemplative, as if this has never really occurred to him before.  Then he looks at you a bit sheepishly, his gaze skittish in how it darts around. 

“What?” you ask, recognizing his shy mischief. 

“I think it’s… uh… kinda hot?”  He rubs the back of his neck.  “I love you and I guess I also love that stupid faerie boy.  And… maybe… I kinda wanna see…”

You feel very hot again. 

“You, um, want to watch Felix fuck me?” you ask, frankly as you can. 

“Yes.”  He stares straight up, his ears gone completely red and his cheeks turning pink.  “I think you’ll look hot together.  I was kinda hoping we’d do something like this one day.  I mean, the cannibal faerie is a surprise, but other than that…”

You kiss him.  His arms circle your waist and he tugs you close, the kiss deepening naturally.  You let all your flustered embarrassment fizzle away, thinking about Felix, thinking about Jisung.  You get a bit handsy, squeezing Jisung’s biceps then resting your hands on his chest.  He makes a little sound into the kiss, one of his needy whimpers.  It never fails to light you up. 

“I’m nervous,” you say, speaking low, against his lips.  “Thinking about so many of them watching me and Felix…”

It is clear by his gulp and frantic nod that Jisung finds the scenario sexier than he should.   “Yeah, baby,” he says.  “What can I do?” 

You know the faeries will be occupied with Hyunjin’s myriad of rituals for a while, so you peck his lips and ask, “Get me ready?”

“Ready,” he repeats.  His gaze jumps up to the flowers in your hair.  “You are ready.” 

“Not like that,” you say.  

Jisung really does his best to be appropriate, but he gets pussy-drunk faster than any man you have ever known.  A suggestion is all it takes.  You tap his shoulder and he obediently drops to his knees. 

“Baby,” he says in a reverent whisper, sighing, eyes closing when you run your fingers through his hair. 

Heavy-lidded and so seemingly submissive to your desire, Jisung looks up at you.  Then he reaches past you, grabs the chair by the leg, and yanks.  He is not too gentle, spilling you onto it with a forceful nudge. 

You know Jisung does nothing by halves.  He is singular in his passions.   You ask him to kneel, so he kneels, so he closes his eyes, so he opens his mouth.  He pushes your dress out of his way and licks through your panties until the fabric is sticky and you are so so wet that it clings to you.  Your thighs tremble and he whimpers softly, high and light in the back of his throat. 

“Jisungie…”

“Shh, shh, shh,” he says in a raspy voice, drawing the fabric aside.  “It’s okay.  Don’t cry.  I’ve got you, baby.” 

He speaks so sweetly, like he is incapable of being mean, even while he torments you with long, twisting strokes of his tongue, never committing to a single pattern.  It is a storm of sensation, rolling through you over and over again.  You are so sensitive that slightest nudge feels like a miniature orgasm all on its own.  You gasp and whine, trying and failing to close your legs around his head. 

“Jisuuung,” you say, your voice rough. “We don’t have much time, I need to come…”

He moans when he buries his tongue in you, when he licks messily up past your clit and back down again.  You grab his hair and tug, though it does nothing to deter him. 

“Your husband can make you come later,” he says, giggling an inch from your pussy.  “I’m just warming you up…”  

“Please,” you say, “please, please, please.”

“Hmm?” is his reply, then he sighs and dives back. 

Your eyes close, brow furrowing in concentration.  You rock your hips against his mouth as he finally starts circling your clit with a single-minded resolve.  You feel flushed and shaky, pleasure and heat coursing through you, and you know you must look as ravaged as you feel.   

You open your eyes and see Felix standing in the entryway.  He looks astonishingly beautiful, his long blonde hair neatly styled back, his freckles pronounced and eyes so dark.  Long earrings made of sparkling orange gems dangle from his ears, looking at once like rippling flames and water running over bronze.  He is dressed in an approximation of a tuxedo, except the pants are leather and the shirt and blazer are cropped too short. 

He tips his head, his eyes on Jisung for a moment.  Then he holds your gaze unflinchingly, maybe daringly.  His smile appears slowly.  It is too gentle to be lecherous, tender despite the fact his gloved hand runs over his belt and tugs.  His tongue touches his bottom lip and he tips his head the other way. 

His presence startles you for a moment.  You should feel caught, or embarrassed, or something.  But the initial surprise fades and you just stare back at him.  You dig your fingers into Jisung’s hair and breathe harder as he strokes and strokes and strokes you with his tongue. 

Felix exhales.  His smile is still soft.  He lifts a darkly gloved hand and gestures to you, curling two fingers, a suggestive come here. 

Then Jisung’s hand goes from your thigh to your pussy, two fingers curling inside you without any resistance.  Felix’s smile curves into a pleased, satisfied smirk.  He nods. 

You come, holding Jisung’s face against your pussy, letting him moan and whimper with his own pleasure as you roughly fuck his mouth.  When he lifts his head, his mouth is so obscenely wet that you throb with a renewed ache of desire. 

“I think you’re ready now,” Jisung says.  He lowers your legs and slowly slides his fingers out of you.  Your breath catches, swallowing up a sound of a surprise when he uses both thumbs to spread your pussy open to his gaze – his and Felix.  Your head feels fuzzy and not with faerie magic. 

“I think so,” Felix says. 

Jisung does not seem surprised by his voice. He lets you go, your dress falling back over your lap.  He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and looks over his shoulder at Felix.  Felix approaches, his steps silent despite his big black boots.

You watch.  Jisung’s bottom lip twitches.  He looks up at Felix with the same hazy intoxication he looked at you.  Felix bites the tip of a glove, pulling the fabric off with his teeth, then he swipes his thumb across Jisung’s glistening mouth.  Felix brings that thumb to his own bottom lip, his tongue only just swiping the tip of it. 

Then Hyunjin struts into the alcove and slaps a shocked hand over his mouth. 

“What are you doing?” he demands.  You think he is going to remark on the man kneeling at your feet, not to mention your sexually dishevelled appearance, but then he says, “Felix.  You’re supposed to have a hat.” 

“I don’t need a hat, Hyunjin,” Felix says with a sigh.  “I would like to talk to my bride for a minute.” 

“That is impossible,” Hyunjin says.  “You need a hat.  Come with me.”

It occurs to you that you are watching the two most emotional faeries in their courts, even if those emotions are aimed in strange directions, like hats.  Because Hyunjin is very adamant and Felix is very annoyed.  You are more than a little concerned that if things come to a head, it will turn horrifying without much effort.

Then Jisung leaps to his feet and puts himself between the two faerie princes.  It surprises everyone to silence.  Even Hyunjin stumbles to a stop.  He cocks his head like a predator regards a measly scrap of prey, eyes flashing as he takes a menacing step forward.  

Felix has no time to react.  You have no chance to scream. 

Jisung is a step ahead of everyone.

He bows.  Hyunjin stumbles to a stop for a second time.  It takes him a second to realize what has happened but when he does his eye twitches.  He bows back, then straightens with a huff.

Jisung bows again.  You slap a hand over your mouth to hide your surprised laugh.  Hyunjin looks far less amused.  Glaring, he bows too, as per the rules of politeness. 

Jisung leaps to the side and bows again, forcing Hyunjin to follow him.  He does this twice more, leading Hyunjin to the exit, bowing back and forth the whole time. 

“Make him stop!”  Hyunjin shrieks.

“Okay, okay!” Jisung says, hands raised in surrender.   He bows one more time, swooping low, then he turns and runs as fast as he can.

Hyunjin, obliged to return the bow, goes chasing after him with a frantic yelp. 

“Is he gonna be okay?” you ask, springing to your feet.  You dress falls neatly down. 

“Yes,” Felix says.  “Hyunjin won’t hurt humans.  He likes them too much.”  He turns to you then, his expression returned to a more passive neutrality, though you do not miss the way he looks you over.  “Will you be okay?” he asks.  “I’m sorry.  I thought we would have more time when we got here.  I didn’t know they would do this.” 

“It’s okay,” you say, too shy for a conversation after he very much watched you orgasm.  “Um.  Might as well, I guess… get it out of the way.” 

“Yes.”  He frowns at this, turning aside.  “You want to… get it out of the way.  I understand.  I’m sorry it had to be this way.  You don’t want to marry me.” 

He says it so plainly and without any hesitation.  He must believe it is the absolute truth.  For a moment, you can only stare at him, his handsome profile, the tendrils of sadness that tug at his features.  How did you never see it before?

“Felix,” you say gently.  He does not look at you.  You touch his arm and he looks at your hand.  “Felix, I am happy to marry you.  I love you.”  He looks up at that, his brow furrowed.  “And Jisung,” you add.  “I’m… I’m glad it happened this way.  So that you and I—”   He turns to you and your heart skips a few beats, affected by the warmth of his steady gaze.  “So that you and I could come together as well.  And now the three of us—” 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, then looks aside.  “I’m sorry.  That was forward, yeah?  I just… don’t want the first time to be out there.  Is that strange?  To be honest, sometimes I don’t know what’s strange or what isn’t.  The rules are different everywhere, you know?  I don’t think I’m doing a good job of this.  I’m sorry.  We don’t have to—”

You cup his face and kiss him.  It is very stiff for a moment, because you are both surprised by your brazen action.  He somehow grounds himself first, a careful hand curling around your hip to guide you a little closer.  A breath passes between you then he kisses you back. 

You touch his chest, making a sweet small sound into the kiss when his lips slide so softly against yours.  You are about to deepen it when Jisung interrupts with, “Aww, you’re kissing!  So cute!” 

You and Felix look over at him.  His hands are clasped and he is gushing as only Jisung can. 

“I thought you were running,” Felix says, with a hint of amusement. 

“Stupid labyrinth led me back here,” Jisung says.  He mimes zipping his lips shut and gestures to you.  “Keep kissing.  Pretend I’m not here.” 

“I wouldn’t want to pretend that,” Felix says, so sincerely that Jisung’s eyes widen.  They look at each other for a long moment, then Felix looks at you.  He cups your face. 

Then Hyunjin comes running in.  He swings his arms in a dramatic flail and flower petals fly everywhere.  The leaf dog comes running in and starts nipping at the air, trying to catch the petals.  In the midst of this chaos, Hyunjin storms up to Jisung and promptly bows.  Then he shoves him to the side and grabs Felix by the arm.

“Hat!” he shouts.  “Now!” 

-

It is a twenty-six hour wedding ceremony.  You and Jisung fall asleep halfway through festivity number twelve, curled up under a furry blanket near a fire pit.  You wake when Felix lifts your head into his lap.  Jisung is already curled up with his head on your belly, so you smile and snuggle into Felix.  He cups your face and strokes your cheek, the flickering firelight casting shadows on his face, making his smile seem bigger than usual. 

The consummation ritual is last.  It takes place inside the castle, in a beautiful room that appears to have been designed for this express purpose.  The mossy stone walls are decorated with dried flowers, the plush bed laden with thick red throws and burgundy cushions.   Despite the tall open windows, there is no autumn chill, a lit fireplace cozying the room with its warmth.

It would be a lovely chamber if not for the translucent curtain with a literal audience behind it.  The winter and summer princes sit ramrod straight, so uninterested in their surroundings that it actually puts you at ease.  Hyunjin looks… a little too eager to be honest, but you aren’t convinced he understands this ritual anymore than anything else today. 

Jisung is side-eying Jeongin, who is sitting beside him because Hyunjin refused to sit by ‘the annoying changeling brat’.  Minho is sitting between Jeongin and Hyunjin, casting the occasional side-eye to the spring prince.  Despite his stoic countenance, his displeasure with the company is clear. 

Honestly, the whole tableau is quite comedic.  You find yourself trying to stifle laughter when Felix finally arrives.  You were sent to separate rooms to undress and change into robes, but you arrived here first.   Felix looks at you curiously, clearly perplexed by your laughter. 

“You’re not nervous anymore,” he observes. 

“No,” you say.  “I’ve just been thinking like a faerie.” 

He tilts his head at that.  You smile and kiss him, a chaste kiss that makes his lashes flutter.  The little reaction tickles a flurry of butterflies in your belly.  You hold his hand and lead him to the bed where you sit down.  His eyes shift with a nervous scuttle, but he follows the direction of your hand when you gesture to him. 

You keep your eyes on his, intensely locked as you lift his hand and take two fingers in your mouth.  When you close your lips around his fingers and gently suck, his breath catches.  It echoes in Jisung. 

Then Jeongin whispers loudly, “Is she going to eat him?”  He sounds moderately intrigued. 

“Be quiet,” Hyunjin replies. 

“I think it’s over,” Minho says, catching onto your ruse before anyone else.  

You smile and open your eyes.  You separate from Felix and turn your head to the silhouettes beyond the curtain. 

“A penetrative performance,” you state.   “I believe that was the requirement.  And I believe that should qualify.” 

You are stretching the meaning of those words and you know it, but that’s what faeries do.  His fingers ‘penetrated’ the breach of your mouth, so it should count on the most technical level. 

“All done,” you say with a smile and wave. 

“So you’re not eating him?”  Jeongin says, frowning. 

Minho is the first one to stand.  He flicks Jeongin’s forehead as he passes, but otherwise says nothing before fleeing the room.  Jeongin follows with a slightly disgruntled shuffle, then Hyunjin stomps his foot. 

“Humans,” he says, marching past Jisung. 

The door closes behind Hyunjin.  Jisung claps a hand over his mouth and laughs into it, so hard he has to put a hand over his stomach as he doubles over.   Felix laughs too, a pleasantly low rumble that he tries to stifle with a cough.  You smile up at him, leaning back on your palms and admiring him in the warm orange light.  He tucks some hair behind his ear, regarding you with a very tender gaze when he nods his head in a curt little bow. 

“All done,” he says.  It makes your brow furrow: the little shift in tone, the tension that still draws his shoulders back.  You realize that even after everything, he is still uncertain about his place.  Even Jisung knows where he belongs, not for a moment thinking he should leave the room, but Felix takes a step away from the bed like he intends to do just that.

You grab his hand, drawing his attention back to you.  Blonde hair falls around his face, shadowing it.  He doesn’t quite meet your eyes, gaze somewhere on your chin. 

“Felix,” you say.  His fingers tighten around yours and it feels like a question.  You answer by tugging that hand, drawing him closer.  His eyes flash gold when you drop his hand to open your robe.  This time you can hear Jisung’s sharp breath too, all laughter subsiding as you let the robe fall off your shoulders, laying yourself bare before Felix. 

He looks awed but stricken.  You can see when he swallows.  He looks at Jisung then back at you, his brow furrowing.  His lips twitch in a bid to speak but no words come.   

It would be funny, this supernatural being somehow struck dumb by you in your most vulnerable state, but your smile is more affectionate than amused.

“Felix,” you say again.  “Have you ever done something like this before?” 

He shakes his head frantically, his eyes still running up and down your body. 

“No,” he says.  “Uh, no.  No.  I can – feel something when Jisung – when you – I mean—”  He chokes on an awkward laugh, turning away for a second. 

“I fucking knew it!”  Jisung says, poking his head between the folds of the curtain.  “Bro, you’re such a liar.  I asked if you could feel when we fuck and you said no!”

“I can’t lie,” Felix replies, turning to Jisung.  He forgets to be embarrassed while arguing, very plainly and patiently stating his case.  “I told you most faeries don’t think about sex like humans and that I couldn’t be certain what you were doing, yeah?  And I can’t.  And I would have told you more but you only asked the first time and I didn’t know you were going to keep… being with her.  And I – I didn’t want to make things awkward… for you… okay?  By thinking of me every time… so I just… What are you smiling at?”  His deep voice breaks, pitching comically higher for a second. 

Jisung is smirking and nodding, just a floating head with a vague silhouetted body behind the curtain. 

“Man,” Jisung says, “you’ve been acting like a monk but secretly jacking it while we get freaky in the other room… That’s naughty.”

Felix draws his mouth into a flat line then looks at you for help.  You are trying to hold in your giggles, lips pressed tight together.  When he looks at you, you exhale, waving at Jisung to back down for a second.  He ducks behind the curtain again, giggling to himself like the menace he is. 

Fortunately, Felix is easy to distract.  All it takes is opening your legs for his all his attention to zero in there.  He swallows again. 

“Sounds like we’ve been teasing you too long,” you say, your voice drawing his eyes back up to your face.  You smile and beckon him forward.  “Come on.  Let me make it up to you.” 

He looks like he is going to deflect politely, either because he is a faerie or because he is Felix, but then you grab his robe and yank him closer.  He stumbles up to you, his fingers fluttering at his sides and his shoulders still tense.  You take one of his hands and place it on the side of your face, soothing him with another gentle smile as you unknot his robe.

He is already very hard and this seems to fluster him, but he points to the curtain and sputters, “He’s – touching—“ 

“Fuck yeah I am,” Jisung says. 

“Jisung, shh,” you say, trying not to giggle again.  “And slow down.  You’re always so impatient.” 

“Am not,” Jisung says, but you can see him lean back, folding his hands behind his head. 

You look up at Felix, holding his gaze the way you did when you sucked his fingers.  You like the way he twitches and breathes harder, the way his eyes flash, the way his jaw clenches.  His thumb curls under your jaw when your mouth slides over him.  You can’t help but moan when his whole face contorts with more natural emotion than you have ever seen from him.  His breath stutters and stops and starts, his sounds so low and guttural that you feel them inside you. 

“Oh, fuck, dude,” Jisung says, rasping.  You pull back just a little, drooling and stroking with your hand, and glancing at Jisung out of the corner of your eye.  He lifts his hips and squeezes himself over his pants.  “We were fucking torturing you, holy fuck.”   

“Mmmmrrgh,” is the approximate sound Felix makes.  His eyes are partially-lidded, his expression one of immense concentration.  He pulls your face back to him with a flick of his wrist.  Appetent and quite demanding, he leads your mouth back onto him and holds you in place to shallowly and gently fuck your mouth.  He makes a pleased sound, one of deep relief, his head lolling back and the tension leaving his shoulders.   

You let him set the pace, matching the animal instinct that overcomes him.  He stops himself when he’s close, breathing hard and stepping back.  You want to ask if he is okay, but you have to flex your jaw and your voice is momentarily shot.  Before you can find that voice, he turns to the curtain and says, “Show me what you did earlier.  I want – I want to do that too.” 

There is a quiet moment, Jisung maybe surprised at the sudden attention, but then the curtain parts and Jisung steps all the way through.  He has unbuttoned his shirt to the navel, his partially unzipped pants doing nothing to hide the bulge behind his fly.  The sight of him sets off more sparks, especially when he winks at you with all his cheeky wantonness.

Felix gives Jisung a once-over too, pushing a hand through his hair and steadying his breathing.  His features look sharper than ever, darkened with a determined resolve.  He says nothing when Jisung sweeps behind him.  Jisung wiggles his eyebrows at you while he gathers Felix’s robe and slides it off his shoulders. 

“She likes your freckles,” Jisung offers by way of explanation, smooching Felix’s freckled shoulder with a playful little mwah. 

Felix tilts his head and looks at you.  “Really?” he asks.  “I can’t fully scrub them off the glamour. I think it’s somehow your fault.”  This is aimed at Jisung.

“Everything’s my fault!” Jisung says with a great deal of pride. 

“Why would you want to get rid of them?” you blurt, showing just as much as horror as you did when meeting the cannibal faerie.   Felix without his freckles is equally abhorrent.

Felix looks at you, thoughtfully.  Firelight is flickering over the room but you do not think it is a trick of shadow when his freckles seem to darken everywhere. 

“Aw,” Jisung says.  “He’s flirting.” 

Felix looks at him with a certain degree of exasperation.  “Show me what I asked,” he says. 

“Oh, wow, okay, geez, pushy,” Jisung says, circling so he standing beside Felix.  Felix drops the rest of the robe, evidently not the slightest bit shy to be standing there naked.  Now your gaze is the roving one, jumping between them, darting upward when Jisung cups Felix’s face and turns it to him. 

“You need to turn her on first, man,” Jisung says, swaying to the playful rhythm of his own voice.  Felix follows, but his eyes narrow into judgemental slits.  Jisung seems unbothered by this, standing still, tucking some hair behind Felix’s ear.  “C’mooon,” he says, with an impatient little shoulder wiggle and a laugh.  “She likes you… she likes me… as they say… badda bing badda boom…”

“I don’t think they say that during sex,” Felix says, frowning. 

“He’s right,” you say, giggling. 

Jisung sighs and looks at you.  “No audience participation,” he says, miming a zip across his lips.  “Just sit there and look pretty, baby.  We’ll get to you.” 

Felix looks at you.  Jisung leans close to whisper in his ear.  You try to decipher what he is saying based on Felix, but all Felix does is furrow his eyebrows then look sideways at Jisung.  There is a moment of quiet, then they smile at the same time.

Felix delicately cups Jisung’s chin.

The last time you caught them kissing, it spurred only jealousy.  But that was different.  That was your childish reaction to exclusion, your own anxieties speaking over everything else.  This time, you are not outside of their connection.  You even swear you can feel the faintest tingling on your own lips when they gently come together in a feather-light kiss.   

Their hands trace similar paths, Felix’s slipping into Jisung’s pants and Jisung touching him back.  The kiss deepens until their tongues touch, then Jisung giggles while Felix grins.  They look at you at the same time.

“Go,” Jisung says, nudging Felix forward. 

They let go of each other and Felix climbs up on the bed, guiding you backwards until your head is on a pillow.  Long tendrils of blonde hair brush your cheeks. He lays over you and kisses you, pressing your head into the cushion.  Even lost in his kiss, you can sense Jisung with a fuzzy awareness.  You recognize the familiar touch of his palm, his hand gliding up your inner thigh.  Felix makes room, joining Jisung at your thighs.  You twitch with an instinctive little jerk, pushing yourself up on your elbows to look at them.  Jisung puts a finger over his lips and shushes you, smiling. 

“We got it, we got it…” he says.  He cups the back of Felix’s head and pushes his head down to your pussy. 

Felix glances up at you, then him, then down.  His eyes close and he sticks out his tongue, his expression one of the sweetest pleasure when he puts his mouth on you.   What he lacks in skill, he compensates with eagerness, messily diving in with an open mouth, licking and kissing and making a mess of himself.  Jisung threads his fingers into his hair and tugs, laughing a little. 

“Easy, easy,” he says.  He and Felix look at each other as Jisung lowers his own face.  When he puts his expert mouth on you, your head falls back, thighs parting further.  You throw your arms over your head and dig your fingers into the cushions.  You chase the rhythm of his tongue, looking down when it stops, when Felix replaces him. 

“See, look at her,” Jisung says.  Felix looks up at you.  “Just like that.” 

Then Jisung joins him.  They torturously alternate whose mouth is on you.  Jisung dives at Felix, licking across his wet lips and kissing him before returning to you.  You can hardly tell one mouth from the next, gasping under two tongues as they stroke you and each other, matching blonde heads bobbing in perfect coordination between your thighs.  It is inhumanly perfect, so harmonious that it almost agonizing.  This is how mortals lose their minds here, you think.

Eventually you are so wound up that you can’t help but cry out. 

“Oh noo,” Jisung says, very unrepentant as lays beside you.  “I think we were teasing her… That’s so mean of us, isn’t it, baby?  Huh?”  He pinches your face in his hand, cooing at you while you playfully glare.  He giggles and kisses you, your own wet desire smeared across his lips.  “You’re so wet, baby,” he says, sliding his hand down your body and over your pussy, easing his fingers through the wetness there.  When you whimper, he whimpers back in faux sympathy, pouting and nodding.  “I know, poor baby,” he says, curling his fingers inside you.

Felix’s eyes light up, watching.  He props himself up on one hand and touches you with the other.  You make a sound against Jisung’s mouth, a breathy moan as Felix slides his fingers in too.  It’s thick, that many fingers at once and so suddenly.  Your thighs jerk and you whine into Jisung’s mouth.  You see stars when you close your eyes, their fingers moving at the same time inside you.  They share a heartbeat, a rhythm, not faulting in the slightest.

For a moment, you just lay there and dizzily take it, stretched around their fingers, wet and silky hot and so turned on that you feel like you’re floating. 

“Jisung,” Felix says in his rough, deep voice.

“I know,” Jisung replies, just as hoarse.    

Their fingers leave you and Jisung grabs your throat with that same hand, slick fingers nudging your chin to look at him.  Your breath catches and you think Felix’s breath catches too. 

“That’s my girl,” Jisung says, reaching down at the same Felix reaches up, a hand on each breast, teasing the pebbled peaks.  You squirm and Jisung returns his hand to your throat, smiling at you so innocently, scrunching up his eyes with delight.  “Good girl,” he says, squeezing.  Felix gasps then moans, sucking kisses wherever his mouth lazily roams.  Jisung places those same hot kisses on your neck, each kiss landing one after the other, lighting every nerve.  Teeth and tongue lave at your skin, no doubt bruising it with each little love bite. 

“That’s it,” Jisung says, and you really start to think your human boyfriend is made of more magic than autumnal flurries.  His dark eyes sparkle in the light, his mischievous smirk lighting up his handsome face.  He is so giggly and sweet despite the dastardly torture of his hands and mouth. 

You find yourself sinking into the sensations, eyes closed, body running on instinct. 

“Felix,” Jisung says.  His hand leaves your throat, sliding down your body.  You realize he is spreading your pussy lips again, teasing as Felix pushes inside you.  It is easy now that you have taken so many fingers, but the knowledge of what is happening, of who is fucking you, makes your breath stutter and eyes open. 

“Ohh,” is the only sound you can make, watery eyes on where Felix is moving slowly in and out of you.  His brow is furrowed again, that look of concentration, then he groans and all but sprawls on top of you, fucking you with messy abandon.   Jisung thumps his head heavily onto the cushion, panting heavily, as if he was fucking you. 

“Felix, you gotta—”  Jisung says, his own face twisted up with a tortured sort of pleasure.   Felix does not listen to him, still rocking his hips with a frantic unevenness.  It feels good and crazy and wild, your head lolling to the side, a hum in your throat. 

Jisung finds the resolve to push himself up, groaning with the effort.  You watch him roughly manhandle Felix, yanking his head up to get him to concentrate.  Felix’s eyes flash gold then go dark.  His mouth is hanging open and his cheeks are flushed.  He never stops moving. 

“And you said I was impatient,” Jisung murmurs, grabbing Felix’s hips and evening out his rhythm.  You suppose it stands to reason that if Jisung is the most pussy-drunk man you have ever known, than Felix would be too.  Except Felix actually is magic, and everything about Jisung seems to multiply in Felix.  He looks completely overcome.  Then Jisung suddenly asks, “Good tears or bad?”

“Good,” Felix rasps. 

“So you wanna keep going?”

“Ye-es,” Felix hiccups, then suddenly starts crying, all the messy human-ness mixing with his confusing faerie-ness, coming together in an explosive physical and emotional mania that has him burying his face in your neck and fucking you so deep and hard that your own sniffles start. 

“Yes,” you say at the same time as him, wrapping your arms around his neck.  Jisung touches your hand, his other still guiding Felix’s hips.  Felix moans in your throat then marginally turns his head. 

“Jisung,” he says.  “I can’t—unless you—”      

Jisung very unceremoniously shoves a hand down his pants, then looks up at you and smiles. 

“Okay,” Jisung says.  He moves and Felix sinks back inside you, moaning deeply, clutching you possessively.  You hold him back as fiercely, blinking up at Jisung when kneels near your face.  “Come on, baby,” Jisung says, his thumb tugging at your bottom lip. 

“Yes,” Felix says, nodding at him and at you. 

You open your mouth, nodding at Jisung.  His pants get tossed somewhere and he removes his shirt at the same time his dick pushes past your lips.  They really do fuck with an extraordinary identicalness, perfectly matched without a word.  It is easy to fall into their rhythm, not even straining.  You feel like you were born to be here, between them, sharing them, sharing yourself with them. 

They come at the same time, Felix with his cheek pressed to yours, Jisung with his head thrown back.  They lay down on either side of you, flopping back at the same time. Felix has a completely dazed look on his face, his breath stuttering when you tuck some of his sweaty hair back.  He looks at you like he is seeing you for the first time all over again. 

All three of you exhale at once.  The resulting giggle comes in three-way unison too. 

“Wow,” Felix finally says.  “It’s much more fun like this.”

“Hell yeah,” Jisung says, holding out his fist for a bump.  You swat it down before Felix can return it.  Jisung just laughs, snuggling up to you. 

Felix also rolls onto his side. He tucks one hand under his head and touches your face with the other.  You and Jisung both look at him, his faraway stare, the way a small smile unfurls on his face.

“You’re mine now,” he says.  “Forever.  Yeah?”  It’s posed like a question but evidently it is already fact to him, or he could not say it. 

“Forever and ever,” Jisung says easily, stretching out on the royal bedsheets like he has always belonged there. 

Felix looks at you for an answer too, still smiling.  You are not as easy as Jisung, but you try hard not to overthink. 

But you remember so many stories of humans wandering in the faerie world, never seen or heard from again, the tales of their disappearances ranging from beautiful to horrifying.  You think it would be impudent to think yourself different or better than them.  They thought they were safe too. 

The question tumbles past your lips before you can think twice: 

“Your true name,” you say.  “Would you still give it to me if I asked?” 

He clearly does not expect the question.  He blinks quickly, then his gaze darts to the side.  You look there to see Jisung nodding off, already half-asleep on your shoulder.  Felix is not sleeping.  You look at him, wondering still about the sometimes contradictory depth of their connection. 

“Aren’t you tired too?” you ask. 

“A little,” he says. 

You realize he didn’t answer your other question and you open your mouth to ask again.  He kisses you, cupping your face, making a happy sound when you kiss him back.  Jisung makes his own little happy sound, sighing on your shoulder. 

“I love you,” Felix says, speaking soft and low against your lips.  He strokes the side of your face.  “I want you to stay with me forever.” 

“You’d really tell me your true name?” you ask. 

“I’d do anything for you,” he says.  “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Felix,” you say, about to say more when he kisses you again.  He smiles so big and bright, it crinkles the corner of his eyes.  

“You do,” he says.  “That’s the truth.  You love me like you love him.” 

“It’s the same but different,” you say.   “Like how you love both me and Jisung.”

He is still smiling.  He kisses the corner of your mouth sweetly.  “The same but different,” he says.  “Yes.  I understand.” 

He draws you into his arms and kisses the crown of your head, sighing a happy sigh.  Jisung curls up behind you, already fast asleep while Felix murmurs sweet love confessions at you until you fall asleep too, nestled tightly and safely in his arms.

[basilf1res]

Tim Drake, looking at (read: stalking) a couple being cute and hugging and holding hands on a bench in the gloomy Gotham winter: *sighs* damn why can’t I have that.

Tucker Foley, glancing over at his two best friends being all cute in the park across the street from Starbucks (where he’s drinking coffee): *mumbles* damn, I want that too.

Tim and Tucker, now looking at each other: Coffee date?

Tim and Tucker, both nod: Coffee date.

——————————

Dick, in a car: You met this man… where exactly..?

Tim: Coffee.

Dick: *long pause* what?

Tim: Starbucks. Get out of the car I’m going on a coffee date. (Said with same energy as: “Get in loser we’re going shopping”)

——————————

Tucker, sipping a mocha latte with (what should be) an illegal amount of shots: So… ya like jazz..?

Tim, inhaling his third cup of black coffee: Hired.

Tucker, grinning far to wide and pumping his fist like the sleep deprived college students he is: Score.

——————————

Stephanie, spins around in the chair in front of the batcomputer (a photo of Tucker on it) supervillain style: Sooooo~ I heard from the grapevine that you’ve landed yourself a date.

Stephanie, pausing to look towards Cass: Was that too straightforward? Should I make it sound more dramatic?

Cass: *shrugging*

Stephanie, turns back around: Hmm, let’s see…

Tim, entering the cave with a cheap cup of coffee from Starbucks: Oh hey, came down to borrow the computer for a bi-

Stephanie, spins towards Tim while in the chair: *fake crying* You left me for this man??

Cass: *facepalms*

Tim: *chokes on coffee*

——————————

Danny, side hugging Sam while walking down the street towards a public ice rink: Wheeeere’s Tucker..?

Sam: He was going to get some breakfast? I think??

Danny: So that’s definitely not Tim Drake and that’s definitely not Tucker Foley all bundled up in winter gear holding hands while both fail at ice skating and holding up several cups of coffee.

Sam, deadpanning: Why am I even surprised.

——————————

Tucker, nearly falling on the ice again: We’re being watched.

Tim, holding him up: Ignore my siblings, they’re just jealous they don’t have a coffee buddy.

Tucker: Why did we make this coffee cup balancing bet-?

Tim, exasperated: We?? That was all you!

Tucker, glaring while tripping Tim, making him nearly face-plant: Nuh uh! Lies and slander!

Tim and Tucker landing in the most cliché way possible in those cringy Christmas romance movies:

Tim:

Tucker:

Tim: Your fault.

Tucker with a Cheshire Cat grin: Well duh, that was my intention.

Tim: Fuck you.

Tucker: You know you want to~~

Tim: Woah-! Take me on a coffee date first!

Tucker, trying not to laugh: Wanna go see a movie?

Tim, also trying not to laugh as he gets off of Tucker and helps him up: *embarrassed stammering* S-sure.

Tim and Tucker both snickering at the pure explosion of chaos they’ve caused while (probably) semi-high on caffeine: We are so dead in a few hours.

Oops. This was longer than I thought.

[dy6nsty]

Can I request sleep token x reader with a reader who is accident prone? Today alone i have slid on ice, smacked my head off a shelf, and stabbed myself with a comb.

══════════════════════

I LOVE THIS PROMPT. YES, YES YOU CAN‼️I also hope you’re doing good after all that..

Sleep Token x GN! reader who has a tendency to get injured

Relationship— Romantic

══════════════════════

Vessel:

Suddenly has eyes in the back of his head. Knows you’re picking something up. “Put it down.”

Leaves you alone for a couple of minutes and comes back to chaos. Chaos in this scenario was you breaking something.

Blueprints things in his head to figure out if there’s anything that could possibly put you out of trouble.

Was considering getting you one of those child leashes so he can keep a better eye on you.

Follows you around sometimes to make sure you don’t injure yourself or break something. Watching you bump into 70% of things you come across.

Puts rubber counter protectors on surfaces with sharp or hard corners, just so you won’t bang into them on accident.

If you can’t walk in a straight line (I can’t do it either don’t worry guys! 😊)— he’ll help you get around. “Left- right! RIGHT!”

His worst enemy is winter and spring. We have icy grounds than slippery grass. But is also your frenemy.

Is now stalked up with bandaids, glue, tape and other necessities he might need for the future with you. Which is probably a lot.

If you come to him with an injury he’ll let out a long sigh before asking what happened. Let’s you ramble on about how you’ve gotten hurt now while he fixes you up.

═════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════════

II:

Call him the gigglesaurus at this point. Will watch you stumble than fall and start cackling before realizing he’s not supposed to laugh..

Likes the chaos it can bring! But he still gets a mini panic attack when he realizes you’ve disappeared from you once were: beside him.

Learned how to treat wounds, bruises, and stuff because of how often it started happening. Also learned how to fix mirrors!

Wants to know all of the dumb or serious stories you have. He’s all for it.

Likes to keep an arm around your waist to ensure you won’t get into any inconvenience.

Tries to help you with tasks you might accidentally fuck up. Reaching for things, organizing glasses, cleaning, or even will escort you around areas so you don’t trip over your own feet!

Counts up how many bruises or any marks you have at the end of the day. If he notices a new one he’ll ask what happened. If it happened in a dumb way he just stifles a laugh.

Watches you from afar sometimes to make sure nothings happen so far. If he does see you get hurt he’ll rush over to see what’s happened, again.

Feels like he’s on a news channel at this point. Honestly wonders if you have some sort of curse to how often he’s found you in these exact scenes.

Does not trust you holding glass, plastic, porcelain, or metal objects. He’ll hold them with you but he’s not wanting you to break any of those by falling over, or maybe even dropping them on yourself.

═════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════════

III:

Stays serious about it but once saw you run into a door and almost lost his shit. Wanted to laugh so hard.

Keeps bandaids, a small thing of bandage wrap + tape, and tissue in his pockets. It’s become a habit.

Carries you around areas that have many things cluttered on the ground so nothing will end up broken.

Trusts you enough to look away and not keep an eye on you 24/7 but still has a physical reflex whenever he hears a crash, bang, or a small sound of something colliding.

Often times will try to fix any messed you might’ve caused. Hiding any evidence that something had happened.

Kisses any minor injuries you get. “It hurts? Want me to kiss it so it feels better?”

Deals with your injuries or things you might’ve smashed, asks how it was caused so he can prevent them from happening further on.

Moves things around if he’s noticed it’s a common occurrence for you to bump into it with the object in the room / it’s placement.

Will take over / help you with certain scenarios if it becomes a problem to where you always end up hurt afterwards.

Warms you about things he sees coming your way: “Wall, you’re gonna walk into it.”, “There’s a plate of glasses, don’t walk into it.”

═════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════════

IV:

Feels like superman sometimes when it comes to you. Steadies things in your hand if he notices you’re unbalanced.

Will also laugh at you. Unless you’re bleeding. He’ll run over to make sure everything’s all right.

Stocks up on ice packs and replaceable items for ones you might knock over later on.

Makes sure you won’t knock into anyone while your walking, or into anything.

Starts following you around when he can to make sure that you’re not getting into any trouble.

Also an enemy with winter. Especially if you want to try any winter sports. You can try but he might mentally face palm if you get ran over by a kid in a sled.

Starts requesting for plastic cups instead of glass. He can’t risk fancy glasses being broken any longer.

He gets into trouble in his own way, but he swears he’s more safe than you.

Picks you up and carrie’s you away when he senses that something just might happen. Spidey senses over here!!!

He can’t walk in a straight line so your both screwed. Your bumping into each other like you have sea legs.

═════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════════

i’m sorry if this turned out a little bad! i’m currently on the verge of sleep but rlly wanted to finish this! ^^

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Falling pants | Evanstan

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Husband!Sebastian Stan x Actress!Wife!Reader x Husband!Chris Evans

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Its the photoshooting for Captain America: The Winter Soldier and next to the photoshooting you have some funny stories to tell about Sebastian. But you're not the only one with funny stories about some of the actors.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 1.475

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (G) none, just fluff

𝐀/𝐍 -> I wanna thank my best friend @imtryingbuck for helping me to come up with the idea. I love youuuu.❤️❤️

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> 10 Years Anniversary CA:TWS | March 30 | Theme: TWS Cast | Photoshoot, social media, stunts, favourite cast member | @catws-anniversary

LGBT Bingo | N1 | Sebastian x Chris | @lgbtqbingo

Masterlist | Chris Evans Masterlist | Sebastian Stan Masterlist

“Chris, honey? Have you seen my tie?” Sebastian asks, slightly panicking when his tie isn’t there.

Chris chuckles about his messy husband, holding up the fabric Sebastian is looking for and walking closer to the other man.

“You mean this tie? It was with mine,” the blond man hands his husband the tie.

Black tie, white shirt, and dark pants — both men look really similar. Their outfits match yours.

“I’m nervous,” Seb confesses, running his fingers through his short, brown hair.

Chris is trying to get Sebastian’s tie in place while he stands just a few inches away from his husband.

“I know. So am I.”

The reason why they are both nervous is because this is the first event — even though it’s just a photo shoot — that they are attending as a married trouple. When it came out that the three of you were dating, it was chaos. Between people who never minded and supporters, there were also a lot of people hating you. You were the one who got most of the hate; most messages told you that you’re dating them only for their money because you can push one away when the other is too boring, and they called you a slut for loving two men. Telling you that the relationship and feelings between the three of you are only fake. Seb and Chris spent many days holding you in their warm embrace, comforting you, and trying all those tears caused by a few idiots who made you think that you’re destroying the relationship between Sebastian and Chris. Both of them made sure that they loved you just as much as they loved each other and that those comments wouldn’t change anything about it. And they showed you once again when they took you out for dinner to ask you if you wanted to marry them. You said yes, of course. The wedding was small, like the three of you wanted it to be, but it was perfect. Anthony Mackie, your best friend, walked you down the aisle, and your husbands had the biggest smile spread across their faces. But now it’s the first time you’re showing up as a married trouple for the photoshooting and interviews for the new movie Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

“But it’s going to be oke, Seb. You’ve got me and our girl,” Chris says, his soft voice giving Sebastian the comfort he needs to calm his nerves.

He then leans closer and captures the blond-haired man’s lips with his. A short but meaningful and loving kiss they share before they hear your footsteps. Both men turn their heads toward the door when you enter the room. You smile softly, and the men’s eyes roam over your body. Seb is the first one who gasps and stands in front of you with a dropped jaw. Chris chuckles at his husband, closing Seb’s mouth, before he starts drooling.

“Do I look oke?”

“Oke?” They answer in unison, and you blush softly.

“Baby, you don’t know how beautiful you are, do you? Making both of us hard when we just look at you,” Seb says, walking closer to you.

He is capturing your cheeks, then he licks his lips and presses his plump, soft ones into yours. The kiss takes away your breath for a moment. That man can kiss like he has never done anything else before. Chris can do it too; they both can take your breath away and make your knees go weak with just some soft touches and their beautiful, warm lips all over your body.

“Let’s go, or we are late. Ans we don’t wanna stop the people from seeing our pretty doll, huh,” Seb says, kissing you again, before he reaches out and waits for Chris to place his hand in the other man’s big hand.

Even though you’re working as an actress and a lot of people know you, some still don't. Most haters think that you’re just with the two men because of their money. But when you enter the room where Anthony and the other cast members are already, all the thoughts are out of your mind, and the smile is big across your lips.

“There she is. I really need to ask your husbands to burrow you for a night,” Anthony says, hugging you tightly.

“They already argue every night about who is the biggest spoon and who is the smallest spoon, so I don’t think they burrow me.”

Suddenly, you feel a big hand on your shoulder, pulling you back and against a broad chest. You know you have Sebastian standing behind you, his arm wrapped around your waist and the others placed on your shoulder.

“No one is going to burrow you, pretty girl,” he mumbles into your ear and kisses a trail down your neck.

"In five minutes, we are starting with the interviews and the photoshooting," one of the men who works there shouts through the room.

Sebastian wraps both of his arms around your waist. You look through the room to find your other husband; he is standing with Scarlett somewhere at the side and laughing, holding his hand to his chest like he always does when he is laughing.

"Isn't he adorable when he laughs like that?"

"He is. Just like you, baby," Seb says, causing you to blush and hide your face with your hands. "Don't hide your pretty face."

When everything is in the room, you're getting ready to start the photoshoot. First, Chris and Seb, because they want to show the return of Steve and Bucky together. Then they take photos of Chris, Anthony, and Scarlett, and when everyone gets combined with the person he is closely working with in the movie, you all are asked to get in front of the white front to make some more photos with the whole cast. Chris mumbles something into your ear, and you burst out laughing, looking at Seb, who rolls his eyes, knowing why his wife is laughing.

"No, Chris. Really?" He asks with a smirk, his blue eyes glistening playfully.

"Ohh- I feel like there is a story you wanna share with us? Looks like something funny," one of the interviewers says, and you nod eagerly.

The others from the cast look slightly confused until you nod down toward Sebastian's legs, and they understand, smirking before you clear your throat. Ready to tell them funny things that often happen on set.

"When we are home, you wish you wouldn't have said that, doll."

You slide your hand into Seb's, squeezing it softly. Then you look back at the people standing in front of you.

"During some scenes with the winter soldier, Sebastian needed to run over a car, and he fell over his own feet. His glasses were foggy, and he didn't see the place he was used to stepping on. Then he fell and slid the car down like it was a slide," you say, laughing softly. "And then his pants accidentally fell down a few times in the middle of the scene. It was pretty funny because the big, fearful Winter Soldier was standing there without his pants."

Sebastian laughs, scratching the back of his neck. His face is red, and his grip around his hand tightens.

"But-" Chris starts, and suddenly every pair of eyes lies on him. "He wasn't the only one who accidentally made funny things. Y/N was running from one place to another, and she was supposed to spring over a small place full of water. It turned out it wasn't that small, or she was too small for that. And when she shouted something to make us follow her, he jumped, and just a moment later she was lying completely wet in the swimming pool."

Your eyes widen slightly, and you look at Chris. Sebastian next to you burst out laughing, remembering the day exactly because he made a picture the moment you fell into it. He has it as his background, and you just can't convince him to change the background; he loves it too much. The way your hair is spread around in the water and you are lying flat in the small pool. Sebastian smirks, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer and capture your lips with a short but soft kiss.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my husband kissing my wife, but none of them gives me any attention at all," Chris says jokingly.

You roll your eyes, amused, reaching your hand out for Chris to take it, while you slowly push away from Seb with red cheeks and a wide smile on your lips. The way both men look at you when you laugh is nothing but pure love and adoration for the most beautiful woman in their lives — their everything, their love.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days

[heartsfourdazai]

Can I request a scenario where dazai and fem reader are hanging out together and suddenly some guy that went out with her once on a bad date sees them and assumes they’re together and is really sad about it and asking for another chance. Like lowkey embarrassing. And dazai is a bit jealous because “why didn’t she tell me she’s been going on dates?”

I just want a little funny Chaos with crushing!dazai.

when dazai has a crush on you - dazai x fem reader

synopsis: on which the osamu dazai had a massive crush on you; however he has no idea how to go about it and suddenly has an awkward interaction with your ex, who begs for you to get back with him.

a/n: when life gives you motivation, you use it all in one one-shot and never return!!

"what's your favorite ice cream flavor?" he asked you as the two of you were walking down the streets of yokohama. winter was finally here and snow covered what used to be green grass and the clouds were in the shades of grey and white.

"dazai, it's freezing!"

"ah, but that doesn't mean we can't have a special treat!" he grinned, quirking an eyebrow as he waited for a response out of you.

you rolled your eyes with a smile; "if you just have to know!!" you said dramatically, a hand to your chest, "it's pistachio..."

"you basic-"

"HUSH!" you clamped his mouth with your hand, laughing to yourself as he looked at you with a "GIRL WTF-"

"i don't care if calls me a basic bitch, THERE GOOD!!" he held his arms up in defense, "your words not mine!"

you slapped his arm once more as you both kept walking.

"are you going to pay?"

"didn't i tell you? i lost my wallet in the river, it belongs to the frogs now."

"osamu- that was 2 YEARS AGO!!"

"and those frogs MUST have a mansion by now!"

"oh my go-"

"but you, my sweet y/n, you must have some spare change to by your best friend in the whole wide world to get some ice cream for us??????"

he blinked at you with his fingers interlocked with each other and you sighed, shoving his face away from his own.

"i literally hate you..."

"you looooooove me~"

what he said may have been true; we'll, he hoped?

-

"have you ever wondered if atsushi purrs?"

you looked up at dazai; raising an eyebrow as you took a bite of your ice cream. "where does your mind go after work hours?" you shook your head as you chuckled; "wait, I'm serious. like if you scratch behind his ear, does he meow?"

as dazai went on and on about god knows what; you saw a familiar boy stand next to the store of the small ice cream shop...he seemed to be with other boys, around your age, and he was just kinda glancing over at you.

where do you recognize him from?

"are you okay?" dazais voice caused you to look at him quickly, "hm?"

dazai grinned, "something on your mind? is it my, witty charms? my gorgeous vocal cords, or perhaps-"

you shake your head chuckling at just how stupid your best friend is, "no- no, sorry. i just zoned out!"

he nods, not wanting to push further and once again started to talk about random things that popped into his mind.

after a bit, you notice the boy was gone however his friends were still there; you even recognized some of those boys as well. why does it look a little bit like-

"jeezus-"

"what was that?"

"i said "shoeless!"

"Y/N!!!!"

the sudden scream of your name from another man's voice besides dazais caused you both to jump.

you looked to your right, as dazai followed your stare...a boy who rushed over to you with blonde locks and baby blue eyes. he seemed to be in some sort of distress as he got on his knees.

"cody, what are you-"

"i'm so sorry i left you, baby, i was a fool to think i could find someone better!"

dazai was beyond confused as he said nothing but just watch. you glared at the boy who was on his knees; "cody, you cheated on me, and suddenly on your knees begging for me back?"

he nods, grabbing your hands as he looked you in the eye; "you were my everything, and i was stupid to believe i never needed you. I've been a mess without, i've let my hair grow up, i haven't shaved in 8 months, and i'm all alone!!"

"uhm..."

both you and your ex boyfriend looked at dazai who cleared his throat.

"y/n, what ...what is going on?"

before you could respond, cody shouts out; "YOU MOVED ON WITH HIM? what does he have that i don't? oh, OH, your into bandages?"

dazai gave him a "bitch what the fuck" look as he continued; "i can be better then anything he can be to you! i bet he doesn't even know what your favorite ice cream flavor is and got you one you didn't like!!"

"cody, i'm not dating anyone!!!" you blushed furiously, pulling your hand away.

both cody and dazai'a cheeks flushed, however dazai couldn't stop looking at you. 'you can date me' he thought to himself, but was knocked out of his trance as you dragged him away by the arm and said one final goodbye to cody, "your pathetic, cody! leaving me for a bastard who cheated on your ass as well because your a sad, cheating man who has nothing to live for besides eat and sleep all day long! at dazai has a job. you know, your right, he'll be a better boyfriend then you anyday!!"

and with that tou left the weeping man alone with his friends awkwardly standing there, giggling at the incounter that has happened.

as you and dazai got further away, you stopped and sighed. "i'm sorry dazai, that was so awkward! i never thought i'd see him again!" you rubbed your face and looked at the floor, but dazai chuckled and made you look at him.

"it's quite alright, y/n, but...when did you two break up? not that it's any of my buisness, but i had no idea you were even dating!?"

"you seem surprise, you believe a women like me can't pull a lover?"

he froze, "oh-n-no! not at all, i just- you know i just- well you never told-"

you rolled your eyes and punched his arm; "dude i'm kidding!!"

he chuckled, a couple minutes later the two of you decided to walk back home, however he offered to walk you home.

as the lights in yokohama lit up, the moon as set and the streets were quiet.

there was a calm silence as you both walked, the sound of dazais clicking heels caused you to always side eye him and smile. he's never walked you home like this before, he was always so talkative and have something to say.

"did you mean what you said, earlier today?"

ah.

there it was.

"you mean.."

"yeah.."

you smiled to yourself, looking at the floor as you stopped in front of your apartment. "of course i did, i'm sure you would try your hardest to be with the person you love, better then cody!!" you smiled, giving him a hug and waving goodbye.

"bye, dazai! see you at work tomorrow, I better not have to call you again so you won't be late!!" you waved, walking into your apartment.

"goodbye, y/n!" he waved, watching as you entered your apartment and your figure left.

"i love you..."

@justcallmesakira @atsquie @atlasnessie @riiwrites @ruanais @silverbladexyz @pinklacydovey @iisowks @haithamvoid-deactivated20240128

[dick-nightwing-grayson]

idk about good stuff in comics because I haven't touched any recent runs for months but I made it into the higher level choir!!!! and I'm also a tenor which is my FAVORITE section to sing :] <3

Yes! That is amazing. Congratulations Winter- you are my internet chidl and I am so proud of you. Go forth out into the world and make it more musical 🥰👩‍🎤🎤🎶

[tommiruewrites]

Hi! I would like to request a Tewksbury x fem’Reader (romantic)! Reader is Enola Holmes’ sister

So basically, I was hoping for this to take place in Enola Holmes 2 in the theater fight scene. If you remember, Enola almost gets stabbed, but her corset protected her. So what if it was reader instead, and the corset didn’t protect her? Reader does finish the fight like in the movie because she’s just a girlboss like that and has that whole moment with Tewksbury after, but the stab wound finally takes its toll. That’s sort of just the base of the idea, you can do whatever you come up with after that! I sort of think of this as an angst + fluff? Thank you!

Just a Little Longer - V.T.

word count: 1.2k

requested: yes | no requests: open | closed request rules here

warnings: fem!reader, fluff to angst (but mostly angst bc i love to make myself miserable but in a cute poetic way), brief mentions of fighting, talk of blood, major injury, main character death, best friends to lovers/idiots in love, tragedy, holmes!reader, NOT PROOFREAD

a/n: i'm SOOOO sorry, ik it's been ages since you put in this ask, but my adhd slump was a pain in my ass. it has finally been forcibly lifted (by yours truly) bc i want to write again, and i found the start of this fic in my drafts and decided to finish it. i hope you're still active and able to read this, lovely anon! <3

remember to like, comment, and reblog to support my writing <3

part 2

· • —– ٠ ☆ ٠ —– • · • —– ٠ ☆ ٠ —– • · • —– ٠ ☆ ٠ —– • ·

Everything went by in a blur. You were fighting alongside Tewkesbury and Enola, dodging weapons and fists. The next thing you know, you’re on the floor, wind knocked out of you.

A loud crack rings out and you feel an intense pounding in your head, so you guess you must have hit it when you fell back. As you begin to stand, you feel a dull ache in your ribs. You look down to see the cause, and you thank the heavens that you’re wearing one of those god-awful corsets you've always hated so much. Shouldn’t leave more than a nasty bruise.

You hear Tewksbury —who’s still fighting from across the room— call out your name to make sure you’re alright, but you don’t have time to respond. Your sister reaches a hand out to help you up off the floor as she dodges a hit. A bit preoccupied in a fight of her own she misses the silver handle sticking out of your corset.

“Are you alright?” she screams over the chaos.

You stand firm on your feet, still staring down your opponent. “Fine. Just a little fall, nothing I can’t handle.” Pulling the blade from your abdomen, you miss the red glint of blood as you resume the fight.

———————

The battle is over, and the energy is high. You and Tewkesbury bounce off the walls blabbering on about the recent events, adrenaline running through you while Enola concludes the investigation with your brother, Sherlock.

“Did you see me! I got some really good ones in there. Think I got him in the nose!”

You laugh, breath like shard of glass in your lungs from the cold, "You were wonderful! Just like I showed you."

He beams at that, his cheeks glowing a warm pink, which he hopes could be chalked up to the biting chill outside, “You didn’t do so bad out there yourself.”

“Not bad?” you scoff, "You must have missed the look on that guy’s face when I threw him across the room!"

You both laugh softly, your breath visible in the winter air. You ignore the tight feeling in your lungs.

Suddenly you’re both hyper aware of the lack of space between you. Looking between his cold pink lips and his glassy doe eyes, you hold your breath as he begins to lean closer.

Just as you feel his intoxicating lips graze yours, your knees buckle beneath you. You try to steady yourself against Tewksbury, hand pressed against his chest, as he quickly grabs your waist to hold you up. He chuckles a bit as he tries to help you regain your footing, but immediately stops when notices that you’re practically limp in his hold.

“What's wrong? Talk to me.”

It feels like your chest is collapsing in on itself, and your head starts to spin. “Oh- I’m fine. Just cold.” Mostly reassuring yourself, nothing bad could happen right? You won after all. You beat them. Your family is safe and your best friend that you've been in love with for years is finally kissing you. Those are all good things. Really good things. So it's just the cold making you feel weak and breathless, right?

“I’m just really, really tired.”

Just as you begin to stand up straighter, sharp pain shoots through your stomach and your knees buckle again, causing Tewkesbury to almost fall over. He panics when he hears a gasp that sounds too much like you’re in pain.

“Enola! Something’s wrong!”

Enola and Sherlock stop their current debate and immediately notice your uncharacteristically frail state, rushing over to help Tewkesbury get you on the ground. They sit you down as quickly as possible without hurting you, your back to Tewksbury’s chest so he can keep you stable. His shaky hand tremble against your hips as he surveys your body for injuries. Enola kneels to be eye-level with you, “What's going on? Are you hurt?”

"No-" You nod your head, "I'm fine, I just-" you cut yourself short, unable to create a more convincing reply as a groan of pain rips through you. Thats when Enola notices a deep tear in your dress.

“Her corset. Take off her corset!”

Enola and Sherlock work to quickly remove the thick article of clothing, Tewksbury squeezing your hand reassuringly when you wince at the movement of him lifting your arms. Once the corset is successfully removed, a deep cut reveals itself, crimson red seeping through your under-dress. "Oh my god-"

You look up, the concern in Tewkesbury’s voice making you nervous. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

Enola grabs your focus when she presses her hands against your wound.

"Oh..."

Sherlock frantically removes his coat to tie around you and try to stop the bleeding. “Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all. You’re going to be just fine.” He rambles out, trying to calm both you and himself.

In your hazy state you can't fully sense the anxiety all around you, or how serious your injury truly is. You only register one thing. You’re going to be just fine. Your brother would never lie to you. Not ever.

Your breathing begins to slow as you relax, leaning your head back against Tewkesbury's shoulder. You begin to feel your own shoulder dampen. Looking over at the cause, you see Tewksbury’s face tacked with glistening streaks down his cheeks, staring at Enola and Sherlock frantically try to stop the bleeding as he helps where he can.

“Tewks?” His eyes jump to yours, sniffling. “What's the matter? Why are you crying?”

Much to your dismay, that makes him cry harder. "Nothing’s the matter."

You reach a weak hand up to wipe tears from his cheek as more roll down in their place. “Then why are you crying?”

There’s a long pause, your sibling’s desperate shouting falling deaf on your ears as a faint ringing replaces it. "I’m just so proud of you is all."

You smile at that, "I'm proud of you too, fighter." You tease. He chuckles weakly, not surprised that your wit is still intact even as you're bleeding out. Your eyes begin to feel heavy as you stare into his, eyelids fluttering open and closed.

“Hey! Hey, keep your eyes open for me. Just a little bit longer.” He stammers, squeezing your hand to keep you awake. "We just need a few more minutes. Just a few more minutes, and then you can rest, alright?"

You groan in discomfort, feeling all of your energy go into the one simple task as your body begins to feel floaty and numb. “Tired.”

“I know, I know. Just a little longer. I promise everything will be fine. I promise. Just please, don’t close your eyes.” He sobs out desperately, interlacing his fingers with yours.

Enola and Sherlock keep trying everything in their power to stop the bleeding, sobbing and begging for anything to work. For you to be okay. You try your best to keep your eyes open for them, you really do, but it’s just too difficult. You can hear distant shouts of your name as you finally let the peaceful darkness consume you.

[justmeinadaze]

We're a Family Part 22 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Get ready to feel old <3. I wrote Good Neighbors a little over a year ago and I've loved how they've evolved. I'm not done with this little family yet. I still have one more chapter with Dylan and then some ideas with an older Ro but, ugh, lol I feel how the reader feels when it comes to her first born.

Warnings: Dads Steddie/ Mama Fem Reader, SMUT, edging (they are still trying new things), handcuffs, etc, FLUFF, they love each other <3 and their kiddos, ANGST, someone from the past comes back to talk to the adult Munson-Harringtons and Dylan, Steve and Eddie struggle being protective over their eldest (Eddie just hides it better), lots of talk about Dylan growing up and leaving the nest and how these three feel about it.

Word Count: 5256

An 18-year-old Dylan bounces anxiously on his toes as you sort through the mail too slow for his liking. 

“MOM! Come on! Did anything come for me or not?”

Two years had passed since you reconnected with your mother and things had been going very well. She was always extremely busy with work but when she came over Aurora insisted on showing her all the movies she missed out on. 

“Grandma! Watch how cool this is!”, the seven-year-old squeals with delight as they focus on the film in front of them. The light saber flies past Kylo-Ren into Rey’s hand and Ro breathes a sigh of excitement.

“Ok, now explain to me again how ‘the force’ works.”, yoru mom asks as she leans forward over her crossed legs on the couch. 

You grin from your spot in the kitchen as you bump Eddie’s hip with yours. 

“Definitely your daughter, nerd.”

“Takes one to know one, princess.”

James was now a toddler causing all kinds of chaos around the Munson-Harrington home. His sticky fingers got into everything even some of the cabinets that you had believed were too high for him to reach. 

“James Wayne Munson Harrington.”, you scold with your hands on your hips as you watch him lean back and laugh with a wide smile that only rivaled that of his dad. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Plopping his butt down on the counter, he dangles his legs over the side as he reaches his tiny hand into the snack box and produces a chocolate chip cookie. 

“Mama cookie…Yames.”, he coos as he points to himself while struggling to say his name correctly. 

“Mhmm. Didn’t you just eat lunch?”

“For…for mama an Rara.”

“Don’t you bribe me and your sister with sweets, you little butthead.”

“Why are you being mean to our son?”, Steve asks as he rounds the corner into the kitchen.

“Because our son parkoured up the counter for a snack.”

The three-year-old giggles as he offers his dad a cookie that he accepts before lifting him into his arms and putting the box back in the cabinet. 

“What did we say, bud?”

“Ask.”

“That’s right. You have to ask first. Now give mommy a kiss as an apology and get out of here, you butthead.”

Dylan was halfway through his senior year of high school and applied to a lot of colleges but was anxious to be accepted to a certain one because that’s where Daisy was going. The two of them had continued to date and see each other which you didn’t mind. What killed you however was that because of her family she was looking at a school that was a few states away. You had never been that far from your son and it scared you.

“I don’t know. I see bills and ads. Let me take my time to really read these though.” Dylan huffs making you smile as you give him a hug. He was so much taller than you now, your head resting against his chest as you wrapped your arms around him. “Everything’s going to be ok, weirdo. You’ll hear something soon. There’s still some time.” 

***

Steve ran his hands over his eyes exhaustedly while grading papers during his lunch. With winter break coming up, he wanted to get everything out of the way so he could take these next couple of weeks to spend some time with the kids especially Dylan. When he had mentioned going to school out of state, of course, he was proud and encouraged him to apply but he’d be lying if he didn’t say the idea of his son being so far away broke his heart.

“Stevie?”

The sound of Eddie’s voice calmed him as he smiled towards the door his husband was leaning against. 

“Hey you. What are you doing here?”

“You, uh, just started your lunch hour right?”

Steve knew that tone, something was going on that the metalhead was afraid would upset him. 

“Yeah? Everything ok?” As he turned his head towards the hall, your ex-husband stepped into view. “No. Nope. Not happening.”

“Give us a second.”, Eddie gestured towards Charlie before entering the classroom and closing the door. “Steven, calm down.”

“Calm down? Why the fuck is he here?! Whatever he wants the answer is no.”

“Baby, sit. Please? At least hear me out first.” Steve huffed as he folded his arms and pouted while Eddie sat on his desk in front of him. “I get it. Trust me I do but I felt like…for what he’s asking we should talk about it at most. He wanted to speak to us both first out of respect because we are Dylan’s dads.”

“Damn right.”

“He’s not asking to spend time with him again or anything like that. Charlie doesn’t think Dylan would even want that but… he’s asking to see him graduate.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Edward Munson?!”, Steve practically shouts as he rises to his feet.

“Shhhh.”, the metalhead tries to calm him doing the same.

“No! He hasn’t earned that fucking right. He hasn’t been here AT ALL in over 5 years. Why is that?! Oh, that’s right, he signed him over. Charlie had plenty of chances to be there for him and he failed! WE raised him and he thinks he can just waltz back in and be a part of something like that?!”

“Steve! Breathe.”, Eddie tries to sooth as he cups his face in his hands. “Breathe. I get where you are coming from. I said all of the same things to him when he came to the shop. But… I get it from Dylan’s side to. Remember when I finally graduated? I was so excited that Wayne was there but there was still a part of me… that wished my mom and dad could see me finally do it to. A lot of that was to spite them and show them I could do it.”, he chuckled making Steve smile. “But a lot of it was also the little kid in me wanting them there.”

The man in his arms heavily exhaled before tilting forward to kiss his lips and gesturing for Eddie to bring him in.

“I warned you before, Charlie, about hurting my son. If we talk to him and he wants you there and you don’t show up…I swear to God—”

“No, no. I understand. I’ll move heaven and earth to be there I swear.”

“Yeah to bad you couldn’t do that for him or Brody before.”

“Steve.”, Eddie warned.

“No, he’s right. I always said I’d never be like my stepdad yet… I’m, um, glad he’s had you two. I’m working with Vivian to be there for Brody. I’m trying…”

“You understand if he or Y/N says no, then the answer is no?”

“Yeah, I understand. Thank you for hearing me out though. I know I don’t deserve it.”

***

Your eyes constantly raked across them during dinner while they ate. Both men seemed completely distracted but especially Steve. 

“I’m done. I’m going to go play games upstairs.”, Dylan announces as he stands from the table. 

“Ah, kid, do you mind staying for a bit?”, Eddie asked throwing the two of you off guard. “Are you done to?”, he asks Ro as she beams up at him with her messy face. 

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good. Can you take this troublemaker and go watch tv please?”, he laughs as Steve blind sides her with a napkin to wipe her mouth and the other boy pulls James out of his chair, placing him on the floor. 

Aurora grabs her brother’s hand, giggling as they run to the tv in the living room. They wait until the sound of a show blares from that area before Eddie leans forward on his elbows and Steve leans back folding his arms. 

“I don’t know how to ease into this so I’m just going to say it. Charlie came to visit me and Steve today.”

Your eyes widen as your head ticks to the side while Dylan sighs mirroring Steve’s posture. 

“Whatever it is the answer is no.”

“Y/N…please. He said all he wanted was to see Dylan graduate from high school.”

“After everything he’s done?!”

“Yeah, I already went down that road, baby, but Eddie seems to think it’s worth the conversation.”, Steve exhaled heavily. 

“Do you?”, his son asked. “What did you say when he asked?”

“I told him that it was up to you and Y/N. If you two said you were fine with it—”

“But you don’t want him there?”

Steve glances towards Eddie who gives him a look of subtle warning.

“No, I don’t.”, he answers honestly causing the metalhead to huff in frustration. “I don’t feel like he’s earned that luxury after everything he’s done and put you through. But…I also feel like it’s your choice. If you want him there then he should be there. You know no matter what, kid, you’re still my son. It won’t hurt my feelings if you want him there.”

“Our feelings.”, Eddie added. “I get what Steve is saying but I’ve been on the other side. My dad was in prison when I graduated. I was ecstatic Wayne was there but…”

Dylan’s soft eyes shift towards you as he reaches for your hand. 

“Mom?”

“I just…I don’t want him to hurt you. I don’t you to get your hopes up and then he doesn’t show.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Stevie already threatened him if he didn’t show.”, Eddie grinned making your son laugh. 

“I’d, um, I’d like to talk with him before I make a decision if that’s alright.”

***

“Baby?”, Eddie cooed as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist while you leaned in the doorway of James’s room. Steve had fallen asleep in the toddler’s little racecar bed, his frame much too big for the mattress underneath as his legs hung off the side. His arm was holding the small boy to his side as he rested his sleeping head on his father’s chest. 

“Eddie, why do you think everything with Charlie affects him so much more?”

“Hm, sweetheart, it affects us both about the same but Steve here just sucks at hiding it. I love Dylan with my heart and would do anything for him. I’d be lying if I said the idea of him going to graduation doesn’t make me angry but if that’s what our son wants then I want him to be happy.” You nod at his statement, giving the man pause. “How does it make you feel? Be honest.”

“I don’t want him to go. I don’t…trust that he’ll actually show up. I feel like Steve right now where I just want to tell Dylan that we’re his parents and the answer is no so we can protect him.”

“The problem with that, my love, is you don’t know for 100% if that will be the outcome. I mean look at what happened with your mom.”

“Eddie, he’s my baby.”

“I know, babe. I know.”, he soothes as he turns you around and wraps you in his arms. 

***

“When he gets here, do you want us to leave you two alone?”, the metalhead asked as the three of them waited at a table in the nearby Hawkins Diner.

“Not like alone, alone though. We’d be a couple of tables away.”, Steve assured confidently, trying to push down all of the emotions he was feeling. 

“Can you stay, please? I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m a little terrified.”

“Terrified how, bud? You don’t have to do this if you’re uncom—”

“Steve! Calm down, sweetheart.”, Eddie chuckles as he rubs his back comfortingly. 

Dylan reached for his father’s hand and flashed him a big smile. 

“Everything’s going to be ok, dad. No matter what you both are always going to be my real fathers.”

As they beamed over at him, a figure caught Eddie’s eye as it quickly turned to leave. 

“Hey, I’m, uh, I’m going to go smoke before he gets here. I’ll be right back.”

Throwing on his jacket, the long-haired boy hastily power walked towards the front door, opening it just in time to see Charlie heading back to his truck. 

“HEY! No. No, no, no, no.”, he shouted as he ran to block his path. “No. You are NOT doing this to him. You’re here now just get the fuck in there and talk to him.”

“I-I-I can’t. I saw him and… he looks so different now. That’s not my little boy anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t—”

Eddie abruptly shoved the man against his vehicle, cutting him off. 

“You’re right. He’s not a little boy anymore. Unfortunately, you missed that because you were too fucking selfish. Now you have a chance to be a part of his adult life if that’s what he wants but, Charlie, if you walk away now that is never going to happen. Don’t be a fucking coward. He’s a good kid.”

“Because of you two. He fucking hates me.”

“Believe it or not, he doesn’t. Dylan thinks YOU hate HIM.”

“What? No. I love him and Brody so much.”

“Then where the fuck have you been?!”, he sighs releasing him from his hold. “He’s graduating with honors and a baseball scholarship to any school he chooses. He wants to go to a school up north with his girlfriend to major in music and education so he can become a music teacher. Dylan has worked so hard to get here. Don’t ruin it with your bullshit.”

Eddie shakes his head as he saunters back inside and plops down next to Steve. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”, he grins but his husband can see right through it. 

Placing his arm around the back of his chair, he leans close to his ear. 

“You’ll tell me later?”

A throat clears startling everyone as they turn to see Charlie standing beside the table. 

“Hi. Hey.”, his voice trembles as he shakes Eddie and Steve’s hands before turning to give Dylan his attention. “Hey, um, wow. Jesus. You look so much like your mom.”

“Oh. Uh, thank you. She thinks I look like you. To be fair she thinks none of her kids look like her.”

“Yeah? How many siblings do you have now?”

“Not including Brody, two. A sister and another brother.”

Your ex nods taking a seat as Dylan folds his arms over his chest. The guys were trying their best to stay as out of the way as they could while still being present for their son.

“So, uh--”

“Why do you want to come to my graduation?”, the boy asked bluntly. “My entire life you never went to anything that I was involved in and then signed me away. Why do you care?”

“I didn’t…sign you away… I just…I was never good at being a dad.”

“Why didn’t you try? Was it because of me?”

“No. God, no. Dylan, to me you were…are… absolutely perfect. I love you with all my heart. That’s why I signed those papers. After talking with your mom, I realized these two would be a better father for you than I ever could.”

Your son nods, sighing under his breath as he collects his thoughts. 

“Mom will be there and Vivian to. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Oh, uh, no. I didn’t realize they were talking to each other.”

“They aren’t. Dylan wanted to get to know Brody and Vivian missed him so Y/N lets him go to her house on the weekends.”, Steve explained. 

“Wow. It seems a lot has changed.”

“It’s been 5 years, Charlie. What did you expect?”

Your ex flinched at the sound of Dylan using his name but unlike the incident with Steve, it didn’t bother your son. He had long since moved past feeling like Charlie was his dad and could honestly never see himself calling him that again. 

“I don’t want you to go to my graduation but, maybe, we could get together and get to know each other again. Work our way up to having a relationship… I mean if mom and my dads are okay with it.”

“Yeah, Dil. I’d like that.”

Hearing Charlie call him that again stuck a raw nerve he kept tucked away for the last five years causing him to abruptly rise from his seat. 

“Ok, I’m ready to go now.”, he announces without waiting for an answer and flying out the front door. 

“Thank you guys for this. Tell Y/N I said thank you to.”

“Oh, she didn’t approve of this either. I’m the only one that seems to be slightly on your side but that’s because I know what it’s like to have your father abandon you.”, Eddie exhales as he and Steve get up as well.

“I didn’t…I didn’t abandon him.”

“Yeah, sure. Neither did my dad. He just boosted cars and ended up in jail for the rest of his life. It’s not his fault.”, he responded sarcastically. “Step one on rebuilding your relationship with him Charlie… Own your mistakes.”

################

“No Grandpa! You have to wear the crown because you’re a princess.”, Aurora giggled as she places the colorfully crown she created out of paper onto Wayne’s head. 

“I’m a princess? Not a King?”

“No.”, she laughs harder, cover her mouth with her little hand. 

Beaming over at them from your place on the floor, you and James continue to color in his little coloring book Eddie’s uncle had brought over. 

“Granpa, purty.”

“Thank you, James. I do feel beautiful.”

The alarm beeps as the front door opens and you do everything in your power not to get up to run to them anxiously. 

“Oh wow, Wayne. I must say, you make a gorgeous queen.”, Eddie teases.

“For your information, son, I’m a princess.”

The metalhead chuckles as they come to sit by you in the living room and your son immediately crawls to Steve to show him his pictures. 

“Dada, look.”

The sound of Dylan’s feet subtly bang up the stairs as he heads for his room and closes the door. 

“He’s ok, baby. Just needs some time alone.”, your husband assures. 

“What happened? Did he show up?” They gave you a recount of everything that happened including Eddie telling you both about him almost leaving. “I can’t say I’m not happy he won’t be going but who knows. Maybe in these six months Dylan may change his mind.”

The next couple of days went by with little to no fan fair as Christmas break finally came. That Friday after coming home from work, you checked the mail like you normally do except a college insignia catches your eye. Running full speed into the house, you drop everything as you scream your son’s name.

“Jesus Christ, woman. What is happening?!”, Eddie exclaims as he slides in from the kitchen.

As Dylan sprints down the stairs with Steve in tow, you present him with the envelope he had been waiting weeks for. Hastily, he yanks it from your grasp and tears it open as you dance on the balls of your feet. 

“Oh my god.”

“What? Is it good news? Bad news?”

With wide tear-filled eyes, a small grin spreads along his face. 

“I got in.”

All the adults in the room shout in excitement as you tackle hug your arms around him. 

“Baby, oh my god. I’m so proud of you!”

“Good job, Dylan.”, Eddie beams. “You’ll be the first Munson to go to college.”

“I’m proud of you to, little man.”, Steve smiles softly as he gives the boy a hug. 

“I’m going to go call Daisy. I love you guys!”, he declares as he speeds back up to his room. 

The metalhead holds up his index finger in your direction as both men tilt their head and wait for his door to close before the other boy nods. As soon as you get the go ahead, you fall into their arms and begin to cry. 

“I know, baby. He grew up too fast. We’re going to miss him to.”

***

“Ok, I finally got Aurora and James to sleep. Eddie is in the kitchen eating Santa’s cook—“, Steve froze when he finally entered the bedroom and noticed the image before him. 

You were sitting on the edge of the bed in a velvet red lingerie dress that cut off just so on your thigh barely hiding your panty less crotch with the white fluff that wrapped around the bottom. Your hair was curled and flowed down your shoulders as the Santa hat you wore sat perfectly on your head. 

“I thought you two could open this present early.”, you grin in a seductive voice as you cross your legs and lean back on your hands. 

“Eddie…”, Steve tried to call with a needy crack in his tone. “E-Ed-Eddie… EDWARD!”

“What!?”, the metalhead whisper shouts making you giggle. “Dude, lower your voice. You’re gonna wake—” While he was talking, the man pulled his collar to hurry him up and your grin grew as the other boy’s mouth fell open as well. 

“Get in here, you dorks.”, you tease as you get up, pull them both into the bedroom, and shut the door. “I was thinking we could try something Eddie has mentioned a few times.”

“Oh my god, I’m so in love with you.”, Steve sighs happily as he lifts you into his arms and spins you around before placing a kiss on your lips. “Do we get to handcuff him? Please tell me we do!”

“If you both want.”

Eddie giddily climbs into the bed, kissing your lips before a thought crosses his mind. 

“Wait, we haven’t handcuffed Steve to the bed yet and I feel like this whole edging thing would be way more fun to do to him… Mr. I’m-the-big-protector-guy.”

The pretty boy rolls his eyes as he falls on to his back, lifting off his shirt, and throwing it in his husband’s face playfully. 

Pushing some of your hair behind your ear, you restrain him to the headboard as the metalhead pulls off the boy’s sweats and boxers. 

“Should we have like a safe word or something? You both get sensitive quickly and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”, you ask in a soft, loving voice that makes him smile. 

“I’ve heard ‘Red’ is a good word.”, Eddie offers, grinning when you both nod in affirmation. 

“Say ‘Red’ if I’m uncomfortable. Got it.”, Steve repeats, smirking when you put your Santa hat on his head. “You know, you’re pretty sensitive to, fyi.” 

“I guess next time, we’ll have to test that theory.”, you tease as you run your palm through the hair on his chest and over to his side. “Ok, my love, do you want to start since you’re the sexual deviant that’s been looking up this stuff?”

The long-haired boy smiles mischievously as he leans over the other boy’s stomach to kiss your lips. 

“You…like…it.”, Eddie coos between each peck. 

As you continue to rub his chest, Steve’s breathing stutters as the man he loves take his cock in his warm hands and begins slowly stroking him. 

“How does that feel, baby?”

“G-good. Really good. I like when y-you both touch me.”

Your palm slides up his neck to his cheek and he tenderly kisses your thumb as it grazes his lips. Shifting your body, you curl up on his side as you listen to the sound of Eddie spit over his tip and smear it along his length making Steve’s mouth open in a silent O.

“Fuck, Eddie, baby.”

Trailing kisses along his side, your hands and nails continue to roam his upper torso as his back arches at the sensations. As your husband’s ringed hand pumps him faster, Steve bites his bottom lip to suppress the loud moan that wants to escape. 

“You look so handsome like this.”, you whisper as you tenderly move some of his hair away from his face. “Keep talking to us, Stevie. Please.”

“C-Can’t.”

“Why?”

“Too…too good.”

Beaming towards the other man, he winks at you as he drops another glob of spit over Steve’s tip as the boy ruts up into his hand. You both know his tells for when he’s about to let go; you’ve all studied each other very well over these past almost 12 years. Just as Steve was nearing his release…Eddie let him go and leaned back on his knees. 

“N-No. No, no, no!”

“How are we feeling now, Harrington?”

The man huffed as he tugged on his restraints before groaning with need as Eddie wrapped his lips around his cock taking him all the way down to the back of his throat. After kissing his lips, you trailed your own down his chest to his stomach and stopping just above the base of shaft. 

The metalhead came off him with a syrupy smack, stroking the man with his hand as he leaned towards you to passionately kiss your lips. The two of you played with Steve for a good long while, taking turns bringing him to the edge just before pulling back. His cock was dripping with both your saliva, angry and red from all the teasing. 

As you glanced his way, his eyes were squeezed shut as he muttered things under his breath. 

“Steve, honey? Are you ok?”

His eyes opened abruptly, meeting yours with a fire you hadn’t seen from him in a very long time.

“Eddie, let him go.”, you breathily moaned as his intense gaze never left yours. 

The moment the cuffs came off, Steve’s sweaty frame practically tackled your own as he lifted you into his arms and spun you around making you giggle at his earnestness as your head hit the pillows. His lips devoured yours as if it had been ages since he tasted your kisses. Hissing at your touch, you reached between you both and guided him into your entrance. Before he could make any kind of movement, Eddie took hold of his hips and slide into the man above you. 

Steve was anything but gentle as he slammed his lower half into you both desperately chasing his release. 

“Oh…oh my God, baby. Just like that.”, you whimpered as his head feel beside you, latching his lips to your neck. 

Glancing up to your other husband, his hair blocked his face as he grunted and clung to Steve’s waist as he met each thrust with a hard, rough one of his own. 

The bed underneath you began to shake and the metalhead quickly reached up to hold it still with his palm.

“Fuck, Steve. You feel so fucking good. I love you, baby. M-Make me cum.”

Clinging to his hair and back, he pounded into you till the coil snapped and your pussy clenched tightly around him. The sound he made in your ear drove you crazy as his body trembled on top of yours and you felt his seed release inside of you. As he aggressively thrust it deep into your cunt, Eddie fell against his back, and held his chest as he came inside of the man below him.  

“Jesus fucking Christ, that was amazing.”, the metalhead panted. “Steve, sweetheart, are you ok?”

“I think he fell asleep.”, you giggled as you petted the boy’s head. “Stevie, baby?”

“Hm?”, he grumbled as he snuggled closer to you.

“Are you alright?”

“Hmm…mmhmm…”, he nodded. 

“As much as I would love for you to fall asleep inside of me, it’s Christmas eve. You know at 7am those kids are going to burst through our door.”

Groaning, he nods as he rolls off you with Eddie immediately ready with a pair of boxers and rag to wipe him off. After making sure Steve was set, your husband grinned as he lifted you into his arms, disrobed you, and placed you in the shower as he delicately cleaned you. 

“I love you to, baby.”, you smile up at him as he kisses your forehead. 

“I love you even more. You looked really gorgeous in that outfit and I’m sure Steven will agree when he’s more coherent.”, he chuckles. 

Wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, he does the same as he rests his chin on your head. 

“You know these next few months I’m going to need you two to help me hold it together.”

“I know, sweetheart. I can’t even picture Dylan not being in this house anymore. God, and we’re both going to have to be on Steve duty because you know he’s going to be a mess to.”

################

While Eddie and Steve sip their coffee, you pat James’s back as he curled up around you after opening all his presents and went back to sleep. 

While Aurora was distracted with her morning cartoons, Dylan had gone upstairs to change and came back down just as your doorbell rang. Passing the baby to one of his fathers, you threw on your jacket and opened the front door to a fiddling Charlie. 

“Oh, um, hey Y/N. Merry…Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, so you’re taking him to Vivian’s?”

“Um, yes, ma’am. She’s letting me spend the day with Brody so I asked Dylan if he wanted to join and he said yes.”

Turning to your son, you fixed his ski cap before kissing his cheek. 

“No detours to Daisy’s ok? I want you home straight after for dinner.”

Smiling at you, he jogs towards your ex’s truck and quickly climbs into the heat. 

“Thank you for this. I really appreciate it…after everything.”

“Don’t thank me, Charles. Thank those men in there. I still think this is a bad idea because of everything but we all just want our son to be happy. But I swear to God…I’m not the same woman I was 18 years ago. If you hurt him—”

“I know…your, uh, boyfriends threatened me already.”

“Husbands. Oh, they’ll be the first wave but I’ll be the finishing move. I’m not weak anymore.”

“You never were.” His response startles you as you hug your arms tighter around your body and he softly smiles. “I’ll have him back in a few hours.”

As you reentered the house, their eyes watched you as you sit beside them on the couch still hugging yourself. Ringed fingers threaded through your hair before turning you to face them. 

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah. It’s just weird seeing Charlie be this way.”

“I can understand that. It’s like if my dad came through that door with a smile and a Santa level of presents.”, Steve sighed. 

“Are you both ok? I told him to be home for dinner that way after we eat maybe you three can play that new game we got him.”

“It’s whatever he wants, baby. I try to remember what it was like when I was his age and I never wanted to be home.”, the pretty boy laughs. “So, the fact that he likes hanging out with us at all makes me happy.”

Eddie nods in agreement as James wiggles in his embrace. 

“Daddy. Yames…hungee…”, the boy babbles as he taps his mouth with his palm. 

“I guess it is that time to start fattening him up so we can have him plump enough to eat for dinner later.”

“No, daddy! Don’t be mean to James.”, Aurora scolds as her brother giggles. 

“Come on, you. Let’s see if Santa left us anymore cookies in our pantry.”

#########

@adequate-superstar @kalinaselennespeaks @nailbatanddungeon

@dad-steddie @manda-panda-monium @alligator-person

@decadentwombatmiracle @katie-tibo @marsupiooo

@local-stoner-bitch @steamystrangerfics @lunatictardis

@adaydreamaway08 @hazydespair @actuallyspencerreid

@moviefreak1205 @waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog

@kik51199 @strngrlytn @idkidknemore @damon-loves-pie

@k-k0129 @micheledawn1975 @eddie86baby

@justmeandmymeanderingthoughts @3rriberri

@sashaphantomhive @chelebelletx @big-ope-vibes

@munsonzzgf @munsonmoonshine86

[kittycatboyhalo]

I LOVE the concept of Bbh being some sort of older brother/guidance to young Cellbit in the war

With Cellbit’s cannibal class I can imagine that translating as really hard times, resulting in people having to eat their dead. Maybe it’s winter time and they can’t grow anything and anything that they could hunt is hibernating so they have to turn to that. It confuses bbh at first, he just assumes that maybe humans just eat other humans now, until he realizes the horrors in which why they have to do that and it dawns on him how awful this is so he takes Cellbit under his wing

at first bbh tries not to get too attached, their ranks are dropping like flies, but he just can’t help it. Cellbit also might be the youngest there, so bad feels an extra responsibility to keep him safe

why either of the are fighting in the first place, I’m not sure but I imagine that maybe Bad was traveling when war struck and he got stuck in the middle of it, wings or magic too damaged to be able to get himself out so he has to fight out. Or maybe he just thinks it’s for a good cause? Cellbit on the other hand, maybe he’s just collateral, his hometown destroyed so he has no choice.

In the end, bbh and cellbit are seemingly the only survivors, maybe because Bad’s abilities finally come back, just in time for him to protect himself and his new friend. Somehow they get separated, maybe in the chaos or at a navy port, but they lose touch until they reunite in the qsmp.

Cellbit grows up kind of assuming that he’s crazy, there’s no way that he had a benevolent demon battle buddy as a teenager. He goes on to think that maybe he was starving or just coping, making imaginary friends to feel safe and cared for. But then they meet again and he realizes that it all happened and it’s just so relieving and happy because that’s his friend and also, he wasn’t aggressively hallucinating for the mass of the war.

I really hope that more people are just as into this as I am 😭 I really hope I see fanfics about this, I like writing but it’s so hard

[clover-mouse]

Magpie and her patron, The Lady of Fallen Snow. Another with a ramble under the cut ♡

The Lady of Fallen Snow is a tilted winter court fey noble, cold and cruel by nature of the role she plays as a titled court noble. Each titled fey of the courts Summer or Winter acts as their title demands, and the more powerful fey are able to see how this influences them, while those of less power don't see the bigger picture for what it is. Winter is bound to cruelty, to scarcity, to selfishness and cunning. Summer is bound to passion, to ferver, to merriment and to promises made with righteous intent. They represent warring sides, cyclical, unending. A narrative made literal, personifying the change of seasons as a battle that is doomed never to end.

The Lady of Fallen Snow, for whatever reason, seemed to have chosen to betray her nature to help Magpie in a time of need. She'd cloaked her intent with ominous promises, and took something deep and dear to Magpie to protect something even dearer to her. Early in the game, she'd told Magpie to deliver sorrows on her behalf, to take dear things from people during her travels. And later, when Magpie said she couldn't do it, she was instructed simply to "Do as she must."

Even still, Magpie never really stopped treating her as if she was a dear friend. Naive optimism, maybe, but she thought it was best. Beyond her pact, she'd offer little gifts of trinkets, twigs, rocks. Shiny little things to show her appreciation.

When they met face to face again for the first time since the sealing of their pact, The Lady of Fallen Snow stole a moment of time, quite literally freezing it just for a bit to step outside her title as it binds her, and greeted Magpie as herself. Kicking off her shoes, sitting in a frozen garden with her. Ever since then, it's been made clear that she's very deeply endeared to Magpie. This silly little all-too-optimistic goblin girl, doing anything and everything within her power to rewrite her own story. When Magpie asked what she wanted from her this time, she was told, "To cause chaos, silly."

So tl;dr, that's her spooky powerful fey mom. In the session that prompted this drawing, she showed up just to help soothe Magpie to sleep during a brief visit to the feywild. I care about them so much so bad

(I should note that The Lady of Fallen Snow is a character of my DM's making, I knew nothing about her going into the game. Did not know they'd take it in the direction of "Magpie is her daughter now." I am not complaining whatsoever.)

[callsign-dexter]

Be Mine Forever (18+)

Request: Hey sweets ! Soo I'm gonna try and send you this idea ☺️ Rooster is really fond of a girl he meets at a bar, and even if it's not his usual behavior, he takes her home with him and they end up in bed. She leaves in the morning while he's still asleep cause she thinks he doesn't want her around. As he wakes up he's more than sad that she's gone. Later at the Navy Base, he find's out she's also a pilot for the Dagger Mission, so both are happy to meet each other. After a while he finally admits that he never wanted her to leave and that he has feelings for her, which she also returns? Hope this is not too weird ☺️

Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x Floyd!Pilot!Reader

Callsign- Stormfire

Warnings: 18+, angst, fluff, smut

Masterlist

Being back at Top Gun is bittersweet for one you got to see your brother again, aka Robert 'Bob' Floyd, and your friends such as Javy 'Coyote' and Jake 'Hangman' Seresin. But it also brought up a lot of bad memories this is where your best friend, Jason 'Steel' Winters, who was your wingman, got into a training accident and died due to a training accident gone wrong.

You would think that they would station siblings together but that was not the case. Since Bob was a WSO they sent him to a base that needed more WSOs and you were a pilot, so they sent you to the VFA-151 Vigilantes, aka Jake's squad. It was hard not being with your older brother but you knew they did what they had to do and you had to be ok with it. You were the total opposite of your brother where he was shy and reserved you were outgoing and wouldn't take no for answer.

Jake was considered your friend because he was there when it happened and comforted you and now is like the other annoying older brother. You both were and still are stationed together in the same squad since the beginning of your time in the Navy and went to Top Gun together. You both started a friendship real quick but it never turned into anything more.

You arrived at The Hard Deck in jeans and a cute t-shirt and not in your Khaki uniform. You sat down and the bar and immediately Penny saw you and came up and gave you a hug.

"What are you doing here? You've been gone for what seems like forever!" She said as she pulls away and you smile.

"Oh, you know Navy stuff." You laughed "I'm back here at Top Gun." You said to her. Jake walked up to the bar and ordered some beers for everyone and noticed you instantly.

"Well hello there, Stormfire. Long-time no see. " Jake said and you smiled at him. He was the one that gave you the callsign according to him you stormed into the base with a trail of fire behind you and wouldn’t stand down to anyone, even your commanding officers although you did what you were told you did it with sass. You got up and hugged him.

"Hey, Hangman. Also, you just saw me a couple of days ago." You and he laughed as he pulled away from you.

"You going to join us?" He asked pointing over to the group you saw your brother and he waved causing you to wave back.

"No, I'm gonna sit this one out. I'm gonna drink my sorrows away." You told him and he nodded understanding.

"Well, you know where we are if you wanna join us." He said and kissed your temple and you nodded. He gave you a reassuring pat on the back and walked away with the order Penny got ready for him.

"You and Hangman?" She questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Nothing there. He's just another brother, an annoying one at that, to me. He was there when I lost Jason." You told her and she nodded remembering. She excused herself and walked over to someone and began talking to him more like flirting and you just laughed.

You sat at the bar for a while and decided to head outside for just a little bit. You heard the jukebox cut off, the piano play, the bell ringing, someone being thrown out, and Jake's voice but you were too far away from the chaos. You sat out there for a few hours and then decided to go back into the bar, where you saw a handsome guy with a mustache, and by the looks, he had been drinking and noticed you too. You walked back to the bar where Penny was already handing you the drink you always drank. You were a little bit tipsy by the time the gorgeous hunk of a man walked over to you.

"Hey, beautiful. My name is Bradley Bradshaw." He said to you and you blushed.

"Y/N." You said not giving a last name you said slightly tipsy. "Let me guess Naval aviator?" You asked him and he seemed shocked.

"How did you know?" He asked shocked and he too was slightly tipsy.

"Well, first your aviators and then that mustache, no sane person would even attempt to grow one if not an aviator." You said and he seemed pleased. You didn't notice that your 2 best friends and brother looking at you too.

"Do you want to get out of here?" He asked you. Normally you wouldn't but you wanted to forget about Jason so you went for it.

"Sure. Your place or mine?" You asked.

"Mine would probably be closer." He said and you nodded and headed to your cars.

"I'll follow you." You told him and he nodded he got in his Bronco and you in your Jeep. It wasn't 10 minutes and you both arrived at his place. He wasn't wrong he did live fairly close. You both got out and instantly he was kissing you. You walked to the front door and he unlocked it.

You both barley made it into the door before his lips were back on yours. He had you pinned to wall but you grabbed him and turned him around to where you had him pinned to the wall you pulled over his Hawaiian shirt and his white t-shirt to revel his rock hard abs. You slowly started to go down onto your knees kissing him down his chest and got to his jeans and looked up from your position at him as you unbuckled his belt.

"You look so good on your knees, baby" He told you voice deeper and pupils blown.

"Anything to please you handsome." You told him as you unzipped his pants and shoved your hand down his pants and boxers to meet his half hard cock. You pumped him a few times which brought a moan out of him.

"That feels good, baby. I wonder how your little pretty lips would look wrapped around it." He said in a tone that made you drip with arousal and had to squeeze your legs together to get the friction you needed but it didn't work. You pulled his pants down and he kicked them off as his now hard cock slapped his abs. You stroked him and took him in your mouth bobbing your head up and down, occasionally swirling your tongue around his anger red tip. "You look absolutely perfect with your mouth around me." He said and leaned his head back while one hand came to the back of her head, but not forcing you down, and the other came to your cheek. You hallowed your cheeks and took him further and moaned at the stretch which vibrated him and made me release a photographic moan. You pulled away with a pop and a line of spit connecting to you and his cock needing air. "As much as love you sucking me off I need to be in that tight pussy." He said.

"I need you to feel you cum inside me." You told him and he was about to ask about condoms but you stopped him "I have an IUD." and you could've sworn his eyes darkened. Next thing you knew he was picking you and taking you to his bedroom each step you could feel his tip brush against your clothed core and you shivered.

You both made it your bedroom where he gently took sat you down and started to kiss you again. He took off your shirt to revel your black laced blue and he swore he almost drooled at the site.

"You like what you see?" You asked him with a smirk.

"Absolutely. I can't wait to see how wet your pussy is for me." He said as he cupped your core and you let out a breathy moan. You leaned up for him to unhook your bra and he did so one handed the other hand never leaving your heat. Once the bra was off he dove straight into sucking your nipples and it felt wonderful you hands came up and ran your fingers through his hair. He didn't leave other nipple unattended, he gave it the same treatment he gave the other one. Once he was satisfied and had you a moaning mess he started to kiss down your sternum and down to the top of your jeans where he started to undo them. He was pulling them off, you lifted your hips to let him pull them the rest of the way down and he saw the matching lace blue underwear. "How did you know blue was my favorite color?" He asked you, his voice deeper.

"Lucky guess." You giggled but it didn't last long because he had his mouth on your clothed core not a second longer. A moan left your mouth "Yes right there." You told him hands coming up to his hair. He slid your underwear to the side and pushed thick digit into you that had your breath escaping you. He came up from eating you.

"My goodness you're so tight. I can't wait to get my cock inside you." He said and removed his finger your let out a whimper as he pulled down your underwear and off of your legs and threw them with the rest of your clothes. He kissed the inside of your thighs and ghosted over where you needed him the most and did the same to your other inside thigh.

"Bradley-" you began but he dove in right where you needed him. He licked a broad strip from your entrance to your clit and you were almost seeing stars. He held onto your thighs as he ate you out like you were his last meal. You were grabbing the bedsheets in both hands and arching your back trying to meet him but one hand came down across your stomach to hold you down while the other hand pushed two fingers into you, your eyes were closed. The little band your stomach was quickly tightening and just about to snap when he stopped you.

"As much as I would love to see you cum on my fingers, I need you to see you cum on my cock, baby." He said and you could see your arousal all around his mouth. He climbed up onto the bed and hovered over your body and kissed you, you could taste your arousal. Every now and then you could feel his tip brushing your entrance and your clit. He grabbed his cock in one hand and gave it a few pumps before he then put it where you needed it the most and pushed in, your eyes closed and mouth opened you could've came right then and there. He caged you in with his arms "You're so tight. I can feel you gripping my fat cock, baby." He said and you opened your eyes and looked at him. He started to move and that familiar snapping rubber band was coming back. You brought your hands to his hair and brought him down in a kiss as he was thrusting into you. He broke the kiss and started peppering your neck and sucking on it now on his forearms. "That's it baby. You feel so good." He said coming up for air he looked right into your eyes as one hand went to your clit.

"Bradley I'm close." You said out of breath and as a moan ripped from you. He sped up his movements and rubbing. All you could hear was slapping of skin and uneven breathing. The room smelt like sex. At this rate you weren't going to last. Taking that into note he bent his head and sucked on your right nipple again and you closed your eyes and mouth opened in a silent moan. He switched to the left nipple to give it the same attention again and then let up looking at your face.

"Cum for me baby." He said That rubber band finally snapped and your pussy tightened around his cock, you saw stars and whiteness all around you. Once you came down from your high you looked him in his eyes "Gosh damn baby. Your pussy is clenching my cock. It feels so good." He said as his hips started to go out of rhythm "I'm close." He told you, at some point his arms were back caging you in. Your hands found them on his back and your nails scraped down his back leaving red scratches that would certainly hurt and be there for a good amount of time during the day tomorrow. Every hit and brush against your clit over stimulated you and you had your second orgasam that night before he came which was definitely his goal but you didn't know it.

"Cum in me, please! I want all of you!" You yelled out and just a few seconds later he moaned and stilled inside of you and threw his head back. His cum painted your walls white. He put all of his weight on his forearms, so he wasn't crushing you, and brought his head down to your neck where you could feel his breath on your neck.

"You were amazing baby." He told you and pulled out and rolled off the left side of you. You both laid there for a minute catching your breath. You both were exhausted, he opened his arms and you crawled into them and laid your head on his chest not much talking was done but almost instantly you both fell asleep.

It was 5 AM when you woke and decided to leave. After all, it didn't mean anything, right? He didn't love you. You were just a fling. That is why you decided to leave early in the morning to save yourself from heartbreak. You both were here for a mission and surely he didn't want a relationship. During the night you had turned from each other but his arm was still around you. You slowly got out from underneath his arm and got dressed and slowly headed out the door quietly shutting the door and starting your Jeep and drove back to your apartment.

When you got there you went back to bed for the time being and then your alarm went off. You got up and went through your daily morning routine, into your flight suit, put your hair up into a nice neat bun, and went off to the base. You arrived at the base and parked next to Jake's black truck and walked into the building.

Once inside you saw your brother and went to him. He greeted you with a hug and Jake and Javy did the same.

"Saw you headed out with Bradshaw last night." Jake said to you with a smirk.

"Nothing there. It was just for fun." You told him with a shove and a smirk of your own. It was a total lie, just one look and you were instantly in love. He slung an arm around you and wasn't looking at you but at someone that just walked in.

"Don't look now Bradshaw just walked in." He said but that wasn't going to stop you from looking and you did. Bradley saw you and walked over.

"Y/N." He said

"Bradley." You replied and shrugged Jake's arm off of your shoulders.

"Can I talk to you?" He asked you and you nodded letting him lead you to somewhere private. You got there and stood there looking at him. "You didn't tell me you were in the Navy or an aviator." He said.

"You never asked." You told him.

"You and Hangman?" He asked

"Nothing there. He's like another older brother. He was there when I lost my wingman and gave me my callsign." You told him.

"Brother?" He asked and looked down at your name patch that had 'Lt. Y/N Floyd' on it. "Bob is your brother?" He asked.

"Yea they wouldn't let us station together. Got stationed with Jake and Javy." You told him. It was silent for a hot minute. He was going to say more but class was about to start. You both walked in and you sat beside him. When your instructor, Maverick, walked in you noticed the tension.

You all did your hops and some went without issue and some didn't. When Bob and Nat got hurt you nearly lost it but after being reassured by Bob that he was ok you eased up.

When Javy went into gloc you again about lost it but Jake was there to help you feel better along with Bradley. This mission was really serious and dangerous, you knew it was but this just confirms it.

You and Bradley had gotten closer and both of you started to fall in love with each other. Especially with him being there comforting you.

2 days before the mission you all were walking back to your cars when he stopped you from getting in.

"Why did you leave that morning we slept together? I was heartbroken." He asked and told you with a frown etched onto your face.

"I figured you didn't want a relationship and that you didn't want me to stay or want me around. So I decided to save myself from the heartbreak and left." You told him and saw a frown come onto his face.

"That's not true. I want you around. The first time I saw you, I instantly fell in love and each day I spend with you I keep falling in love with you even more. It broke my heart when I woke up to an empty cold bed." He told you and brought a hand to your cheek.

"I felt the same way when I met you at the bar of The Hard Deck and have also been following in love with you. I really didn't want to leave but I let emotions get the best of me. I want to be around you all the time." You said and brought your hand to the hand holding your cheek.

"Now that we have that out of the way. Be mine forever?" He asked you in a hopeful tone.

"Of course. Now let's get through the mission and start our life together." You told him with a smile and he smiled back. He leaned down to kiss you and you gladly kissed him back.

Now all you had to do was make it back from the mission alive and then you two could start your lives together.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hii, I adore your works:) you're the only person I've found that writes for lords of chaos and doesn't JUST write for Euronymous. I was wondering if you could write for Dead/Pelle again? Nsfw would be nice but it doesn't have to be. There just isn't enough content for him:(

My cold and heat

warning : kissing, making out, some biting and hickeys

Part.2

masterlist

Info : Hii thanks for the kind words I'm glad you enjoy it so much. Yeah there is no much content for Lords of Chaos in generel (beside my blog and a few others) but I think it's because the movie is in (my opinion) in a morally grey zone where it's difficult to write for such a thing that is based on a tragedy that happened in real life.

Disclaimer : I don't want to glorify anything, it's about the actors who play a role, not the real events.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

°A chilly night hung over the old hut that Euronymous and Dead had bought. Especially in the cool winter months it was cold and cold was an understatement. It was as cold as death in a graveyard without warmth or life.

°Dead and his girlfriend sat together on the old holey couch downstairs in the living room. Tending the house while Euronymous drove all over Norway looking for and buying an electric heater. While the two of them stayed here to make sure no one broke in, even though the likelihood of someone breaking into such a ramshackle place was completely unlikely.

°The old TV that flickered every now and then had seen better days, but the horror movie was still on, which was the main thing. As long as they had something to concentrate on to ignore the shaking. ,,Like aspen leaves, dead aspen leaves in the wind" she heard him murmur as they leaned against Dead under the covers together. She felt him take one of her trembling hands and bring it to his lips.

°,,Cold as death" he murmured she didn't know if he meant her or himself because they were both cold. But especially Dead was almost always cold not that she minded but in such situations it was rather inappropriate. She smiled lightly as she felt him spreading soft kisses on her fingers. She tried to warm in his way and give her life. To give her his life, which he did not want.

°,,Give me the warmth of life?" she asked, looking over at him from the television. A few of the blond strands had fallen into his face, his bright blue eyes went to her briefly before he nodded slightly. He was completely lost in his world but she didn't mind. She liked it when he loved her, it was an experience that reflected him.

°Instead, she moved closer to him as far as she could without crossing a line that made him pull away. Before he took her other hand and kissed the fingers as well, kissing his way up her arm before she slowly let herself fall back onto the couch. The old feather creaked as the two slowly repositioned themselves. But he did not retreat, seeming to have lost himself in her life.

°As he claimed her neck and lightly bit the aorta causing her to startle. ,,Warm blood" he mumbled as she felt him move his free hand over her torso. Lightly massaging her breasts and listening to the sounds she made more and more. She knew he was leaving dark marks on her neck, his blue eyes showed fascination and it excited him.

°,,My death," she murmured before he wrapped her in a kiss and took the excited sounds with him. He brought her death and she brought him life as he let his hand wander further from her breasts. His fingers slowly stroked the soft skin of her thighs before he came closer to her centre. His lips set against her collarbone as he pushed the top slightly aside and let his lips roam over her torso. Leaving kisses, bites and marks before he kissed his way down to her centre.

°There were only a few moments left, a few moments before they both got what they wanted when suddenly the door slammed open and banged against the wood. ,,I'm back!" Euronymous shouted, triumphantly holding up an electric heater before slamming the door and looking at the two of them, hostile and yet quite perplexed.

°,,The sex and the cold death can wait first warm up and then you finish your session while I wash my eyes out" he said and pushed himself between the two before he plugged in the heater and sighed. Warmth was still the best remedy against the cold, except of course for sex.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@mayhem-things , @icarus-star

[inactiveuser374]

MIA (chapter three)

pairing; Simon “Ghost” Riley / Male!Winter Soldier!Reader

contains: graphic depictions of injury, flashbacks, fears of abandonment, mentions of abduction, human experimentation & torture, memory loss and regaining, brainwashing and conditioning, male anatomy for reader, slight sexual themes, lovers to strangers to enemies to lovers?? idk

link to chapter one

The world seemed like a loud blur, every sound felt as if it was making your brain bleed. The voice attached behind your ear rose up as the lead singer in an horrid band you couldn’t block out no matter how hard you tried.

The unheard words only indulging the jarring chorus of life while you froze, your hand still caressing the hilt of your knife.

“What did they do to you?“ Another voice emerged and it was only then that you were reminded of the other in front of you. Your mission that had somehow jolted you from a half awake mindless sleep.

“We have a sniper on top of the building soldier, step away so he can take the shot.”  

Through the chaos and noise, you could still make out the meaning of the words. A few months ago, you would’ve stepped away in an instant, obeying orders like a dog. 

But your body shielded Ghost just enough to create a shadow with your importance, you knew that nothing would happen as long as you were in range. 

You needed this man alive, even if it was your mission to end him. You couldn’t complete it just to forget his face like all the others. You weren’t going to lose the possibility of having a new life, one free of killing and pain every day of your life, repeating an endless cycle with every mission you returned from.

He knew you, knew your name and probably more about your life than you ever thought to consider. Without him you were like a half erased slate. Not fully blank, but just enough missing so that whatever used to be on it was no longer understandable. 

You needed him to remind you of who you were, you could tell in the way he looked at you, that your relationship had at least been close enough not to have him lie about it. 

If you turned to take out the sniper, you’d risk Ghost running or worse, attacking you while you were vulnerable. And the last time you’d gone up against him, he’d somehow been almost as skilled as you. 

Your face stilled into a look that Ghost seemed to find threatening as you looked up at him through your eyebrows. His breathing and the twitch of his wrist as he readied for another attack showed you his thoughts. 

What it didn’t show you was the handgun hidden under his belt as his finger curled around the trigger, already stopped by your grip before you even realized it. 

You had it under the much stronger metal of your hand, easily pulling it from his grasp as his lips curled up to almost reveal his teeth in an expression that was far closer to irritation rather than full on anger.

As the gun was flung far enough away to where neither of you could get to it fast enough, you straightened yourself up again, merely annoyed at his attempt.

Ghost looked as if he was stifling a sigh of frustration before he spoke.

”Wasn’t aiming for you.” He said, his tone confirming the irritation you had suspected. 

“Don’t move.”

His sudden lack of movement caused a hint of satisfaction to creep into your head as you removed your earpiece, effectively crushing it under your heel before turning swiftly. 

He soon realized that you had already known about the sniper, probably even before him, leading him to wonder if they were merely backup for you. 

Your knife was pulled from its hilt in a smooth manner as you took it into your stronger arm and hurled it like a spear towards the top of the building. You had hit the man’s arm, more than likely stopping him from taking a shot while you continued your conversation free from anyone else. 

“Who’s on the earpiece?” Ghost questioned, voice lowered to an almost menacing manner. 

“How do I know you?” You lashed back.

“Are you joking?” He could’ve said it angrily, but instead his eyes softened along with his voice. 

“We worked together for four years, [name].” 

“Don’t call me that.” You somehow stopped yourself from seething the words, digging your nails into your palm.

“We were on a hostage rescue, you got shot in the arm.” He continued speaking, eyes drifting down to the slim line of metal that showed out from under your sleeve before it was consumed again by your glove. 

“Our soldiers were down and I had to leave the building but when I came back, you weren’t there.” 

Outlines of the images he described fluttered in your mind's eye as he spoke. A window, broken by gunshots, paired with the stain of blood drowning you in red as you looked down at your own crumpled body, weak and useless as all you could do was try not to fade away. 

“We searched for you for six months, but every time we thought we were close, any proof we had just disappeared. After seven you were announced missing in action.” 

The man had genuine pain in his voice. The type that felt like it was boring a hole into your chest as you listened. You were frozen in place, shallow breaths being the only motion that barely even moved your chest. The air around you lay stagnant without so much as a heartbeat to send it moving. 

“I wish I’d stayed with you in that room every day since.” 

Though no more memories showed their face, you could tell he was speaking the truth. He had no intention of lying to you even if it meant his own death. 

His mouth opened once more to speak but as he did you heard the reverberating sound of something happening to your hand and then a loud crack as you felt a buzz starting from your left arm and manifesting into a wave as it passed through your entire body. 

In an instant of confusion you thought your arm might’ve malfunctioned, maybe you’d pushed it too hard and the mechanics snapped against each other. But Ghost’s reaction was what made your stomach drop.

Even in the dark, even against his black hoodie, the wetness pooled up right above his hip. Just as you looked back at him, his body curled in on itself and he looked as if he were about to keel over.

Instinct took you by surprise as you dove for the gun you had discarded minutes ago, cocking it and shooting five muffled rounds at the shadow on the building, thanking something greater that the man had poor aim from his injury. 

“Ghost?”

He seemed shocked, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the bullets shot towards the sniper or the steel caught his abdomen. 

You had little experience with treating wounds, but luckily you remembered the basics for gunshots due to the amount of times you had had to patch yourself up on missions without help. 

He hadn’t fallen over yet, but his legs were definitely about to give out as you grabbed him, pocketing the gun and pulling him down the alley until you felt far enough away that anyone looking for you wouldn’t search. The bullet had rendered your left arm nearly useless as the metal pulled on your shoulder rather than enhancing your strength, forcing you to pull him with only your right. 

Upon inspection the injury looked tame compared to what you had seen on yourself in the past.

The bullet had barely even passed his skin after going through your hand, but it was fragmented, one piece was sticking to the skin where the open flesh met skin. 

“So you do know who I am?” He said with an oddly normal toned voice, as if the hands pulling pieces of metal out of him had no effect. 

“I only know what I’ve been told, by the people I work for, and that includes your name.”

His breathing seemed to change in the slightest midway through your sentence, but you paid no mind as you worked on slowing the bleeding. The desperation to keep him alive grew with every pulse of his heart. 

“Someone tells you to do this?” He questioned, his eyebrows creasing downwards as he looked at what you were doing with your hands. 

“When they need me.” You answered vaguely. “Stop talking.” 

Ghost sat in silence as you finished dressing the wound with what little resources you had. You were no doctor but wrapping an open gunshot wound with a hoodie maybe wasn’t the best thing. You cursed under your breath, standing up to survey either side of the alley, relieved at the lack of people outside.

“My flat’s right down the street.” Ghost let his words out trapped inside a ragged breath. “First floor, shouldn’t be much of a hassle.” He tried to push himself up but you immediately dropped down, keeping him where he was. 

“Yeah? Gonna tell me your credit card number too?” Part of you was amused by how much he trusted you, given the circumstances of who you were and how he was practically at your mercy at the moment.

“You aren’t going to kill me,” he sucked in a pained breath as you helped hoist him up over your shoulder.

“You want to remember. More than just your name.” He took the words right from your head, but for some reason you didn’t want him to know that. 

“I don’t need a biography.” You seethed, suddenly aware of how heavy he was without the help of your now broken enhancement.

Ghost wasn’t lying, it was only a two block walk until you arrived at the entrance of a brick building, four stories high. 

The place was dark, the only light coming in was through the half drawn blinds. But once you switched a light on, the apartment showed itself.

It was practically empty, only the necessary furniture and items lay perfectly in their place. A plain mattress sat in the corner, the sheets and blanket laid perfectly even tucked in underneath it. 

“You don’t remember this place?” Ghost sounded a bit better now, but you doubted that the walk here had done him any good. 

“Can’t say I do.” You muttered, irritated at the almost teasing tone he had spoken with.

You found the first aid kit was in the bathroom, along with a suture kit that seemed to be filled with items pulled directly from a hospital shelf. 

Ghost sat in an old wooden barstool while you sewed up the large hole in his side with so much as a subtle wince each time you pulled the needle through. 

The skin around the injury seemed to be a map of a battlefield itself, bullets and slices nearly painting a picture on his chest. 

Silence had subconsciously begun to grow like a weed between the two of you, only ending when he allowed a single question to pass through his lips. 

“What did they do to you?” His voice was flat and almost emotionless as you cut off the rest of the tape around the gauze. 

You took your time answering, allowing him to get his shirt back on while you tried to think. Nights filled with screams allowed you at least some form of an idea that the people who you now used to work for had indeed done something to you, maybe even multiple times. But the memories were distant and clouded, you couldn’t rely on them without proof. 

“I don’t know.” 

Ghost’s eyes met your left limb, which had been dangling at your side the entire time, a simple chunk of metal attached to your body was all it was now. The glove had been blown clean off through the shot, which gave him a clear view of the shiny hand. 

“I should go.” You stood up, pulling your hood back on before twisting the handle on the sink. The blast was a lot harsher than you had anticipated. 

Ghost got up as well, walking towards the door presumably to let you leave. 

The water began to heat, washing red stains from your flesh even faster before you shut it off, allowing silence to fill the entire apartment.  

Ghost opened the door for you while you were turned, the knob turning with a slow cream just loud enough for you to hear as you dried off your hand admiring the wall for about five more seconds until you felt clean enough. 

As you started to turn, the back of your head met a hard spot as an unfamiliar voice met your ears. The sentence was too short to pinpoint, but it definitely wasn’t Ghost, instead a heavy Scottish accent met your ears as the pressure on the back of your head grew. 

It was only then that you realized what the object held against your skull was, and that Ghost had been walking towards the bathroom with the first aid kid in hand, not the front door. 

“Don’t move.” 

I posted this without proofreading the second half because I’m too tired, so I apologize for any typos or repeated paragraphs that I missed

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[jerzwriter]

I've written an extensive background HC for Eli, and I have one for Zoe, too, though it's lived only in my head and never made it to paper. This short series is meant to change that.

Series Summary: About a year after the solstice, Zoe Rivera is dreading her upcoming birthday. It's a day that has always been difficult for her, but with the loss of her sister, the only connection to her past, this year is proving to be harder than most. As her friends and found family attempt to help her through, Zoe makes many discoveries about herself, her past, and the future she hopes to build.

Part 1: Ring the Bells That Can Still Ring

Book: Wake the Dead Pairing: Eli Sipes x Zoe Rivera (F!MC) Characters: Troy Hassan, Shannon Fox, Angel Savage, Mina Arbogast, May, Feather, original characters Rating: Teen TW: Mentions of death & loss Words: 3,200 Chapter Summary: Angel is excited to start new traditions at Olympus, but Zoe makes it very clear that she wants no part in one. As Eli & Troy attempt to help her deal with feelings of grief, Zoe makes a conscious effort to focus on what she has today. But a trip to scavenge for supplies lead to some fateful discoveries.

A/N: I expect this series to be 3 or 4 parts. I'm participating in @choicesjunechallenge2024 - Threshold, Beginnings, and Endings.

It was a relatively quiet night at Olympus. Springtime had returned and brought a multitude of chores to be completed along with it. Most of the colonists had spent the unseasonably warm day gardening or tending to building repairs impossible to complete during the harsh winter months. It was no surprise that most were petered out and already tucked into their beds. But a small group who weren't willing to let the evening just yet were gathered in the great room.

Troy, Mina, and Shannon were in a corner playing an old game of Jenga that Troy had recently acquired as others gathered around the fire to sing and tell stories. Eli sat nearby, half-listening as he worked on repairing his bow, while Angel lounged on a nearby couch, extremely excited over her activity. Tapping the purple pencil in her hand against her notebook, she exclaimed.

“I’m almost done! I only need to more people!

“Who do you still need?” Shannon hollered over.

“Just Feather and Zoe.”

Fresh out of the shower, Zoe entered the room, vigorously drying her long hair with a towel.  “You need Feather and Zoe for what?” she responded.

“Oh! I’m making a birthday list for the colony. This way, no one’s special day will ever be forgotten.

Troy’s eyes popped up and darted immediately to Zoe. His brow furrowed in concern; he wished he could have spoken to Angel just minutes sooner.

“Thank you, Angel. But I’d prefer not to be included,” Zoe replied curtly.  

But Angel wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Zoe, we need to include you! Do you think we’re going to celebrate everyone’s birthday except yours?”

“Angel, I said no!” the usually affable leader snapped.

Clearing his throat, Eli placed his bow at his feet and went to Zoe’s side. He was almost there when a loud clattering noise caused him to jump, and everyone turned in Troy's direction.

"Sorry!” Troy blushed; the collapsed Jenga tower crumbled before him on the table.

“How did you manage that?” Mina blurted. “There were a dozen safe moves you could have made!”

“Don’t question it!” Shanon grinned. “This might be our chance to finally win!”  

With the chaos as a distraction, Eli locked eyes with Zoe as he took her by the hand and cocked his head toward the exit. Once Troy was certain they were gone, he began to reassemble the bits of fallen wood again.

“I want a do-over!” He complained.

“Not a chance,” Angel laughed. “But I still need Zoe’s birthday. Where’d she go?"

“Yeah, about that,” Troy grimaced. “It’s best to let the birthday thing go with her. It’s... complicated.”

“What’s complicated?” Angel shrugged. “We live in a zombie-infested world. I spent most of my birthdays alone, playing whack-a-mole with them at the mall. I want to embrace the good, and that includes celebrating birthdays with my new family.”

“I know. But you have to understand Zoe’s birthday has always been a touchy issue. When we were kids, she didn’t like celebrating because she said it was the day her mother gave her away, then when her fathers died, she didn’t want to celebrate at all. If not for Ana convincing her, she wouldn't have celebrated at all."

"Well, what did Ana tell her?" Shannon asked. "Maybe we could do the same thing."

"She told her how happy she was to have a little sister, so they had to celebrate the day she came into the world.”

“That’s so sad but lovely, too,” Shannon stated. “With Ana gone now, it must be especially hard for her.”

Troy sat back and ran a hand through his well-coiffed hair, a somber look in his eyes. “This stays here... right?”

“Of course,” they all agreed.

“Zoe’s birthday is coming up soon. May 24th, to be exact.”

“Wow! So her birthday was just before we all met!” Shanon remarked.

“It was on the day we met. You had to be 25 to be a scout, and that’s what Zoe always wanted to be. She insisted on starting her new position that very day."

“You’re kidding! That’s how she wanted to... Oh my, God,” Shannon covered her mouth as the tragic realization set in.

“Yep,” Troy frowned. “Ana died on Zoe’s birthday.”

“Oh my goodness!” Angel wailed. “That’s terrible!”

“It makes sense that she wouldn’t want to celebrate,” Mina nodded.

“But she’s so special,” Angel inserted. “And it seems unfair to celebrate all of us... but not her.”

“We have to honor her wishes,” Troy insisted. “Eli and I have both spoken to her and told her Ana would have wanted her to celebrate. But Ana was the family she had, her only link to her life before the outbreak. If she’s not ready, we can’t push her.”

“We could just celebrate on another day?” Angel offered. “Like November 9th is official Zoe day!”

But Troy shot the idea down. “I think it’s best we let it be, at least for now.”

~~~~~

Upstairs, Eli sat in bed beside Zoe, gently rubbing the distressed young woman's back.

“She meant well,” Eli mumbled. “I can talk to Angel."

“I’m sure Troy already has,” Zoe said, leaning into Eli’s embrace. She didn't like dwelling on the losses she had endured, but sometimes, like now, it seemed impossible to escape. She tried to lose herself in Eli's woodsy scent and the warmth that radiated from him, but the seed had already been planted, and within moments, her tears began to flow.

“I miss her, Eli," she wailed. "I miss her so much.”

“I know,” he comforted. “I know.”

In a world where no one was immune to tragedy and loss, Zoe knew Eli truly understood. The loss of his brother and the loss of Ana had many parallels; it was something that had drawn them together. She reached out for his hand and held it close. It was good to not be alone.

“I hate that you lost her on your birthday... of all days.”

Zoe tried to shrug it off. “Birthdays weren’t important at the Tower. It was rare that they were even acknowledged. But growing up, Ana and Troy always went out of their way to make me feel special on my day, and I did the same for them.”  

“Would it help to tell me about some of those days?” he asked.  

“Well, Troy always knew how to... find... treats and things we weren’t supposed to have, even as kids.”

“Good ol’ Troy,” Eli smirked.

“Exactly! He’d knock at our door with some cookies or candy in hand. They weren’t even all that good – but compared to what we usually ate, we thought it was incredible! Ana did her best to keep some of our family traditions alive, but she even admitted she wasn’t sure she was doing them correctly. We were so young when the outbreak happened, and with all the trauma, her memory wasn't the best.”

“So you started your own traditions,” Eli said. "That's what mattered."

“I guess,” Zoe smiled. “As I got older, one of those traditions became Ana securing a whole bunch of beer. We’d lock ourselves in our room, drink entirely too much, and act like total idiots. The evening usually ended with us dancing or Troy putting on some sort of a performance.”

Eli shook his head. “Please tell me he kept his clothes on, at least.”

Zoe laughed at the thought, and Eli instantly felt some of the tension in his shoulders drift away. Seeing her suffer was never easy, and her laughter warmed his heart.  

“If he did, I was too drunk to remember.”

“You were lucky to have each other.”

“We were,” she agreed. “What were your birthdays like ... after the outbreak?”

“My birthday was in the winter. That was good because it meant fewer zombies to worry about. We could let our guard down a bit. But winter also meant fewer supplies and sometimes storms so bad we were confined to the cabin. Still, my parents found ways to make it special. My Mom made pudding or a cake when she could, Dad would play his guitar, and David always drew something for me, too.”

Zoe snuggled against his chest. “You were lucky, too.”

“Yeah...” Eli replied with a soft smile. “I was. We were. We still are. We have each other... and all the lunatics downstairs. I don’t have my family anymore, but I have a family again. In this world, most people aren’t lucky enough to get that once, but we got it twice.”

Zoe lurched into an upright position and turned to Eli with a half-smile. “Is this where you tell me that’s why I should still celebrate my birthday? I get that. But I'm not comfortable celebrating the anniversary of my sister’s death."

“Of course not,” he replied, pulling her back to him. “That has to be your call.  I just want you to remember, there are still people who are grateful you’re here, who love you very much... and I’m at the top of that list.”

~~~~~

The following day, the gang was up bright and early to head out and scavenge. They piled into their old van, and as Troy drove them through meandering roads, it took Zoe back to that day nearly a year ago. Her chest tightened as the dark cloud attempted to envelop her once again. Angel sat just a few feet away. She had been especially quiet this morning. Knowing it likely had something to do with her, Zoe reached over and squeezed her hand.

“I hope you don’t think I’m upset with you,” Zoe stated. “Because I’m not.”

Angel had a shadow of a smile when she placed her head on Zoe’s shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories. I'd never want to hurt you."

“I know that,” Zoe sighed. “My birthday is... complicated, to say the least.”

“I know, Troy explained.”

Troy looked in the rearview mirror, aghast. “Gee, thanks, Angel! What happened to what happened in the great room, stayed in the great room?”

“It’s all right, Troy,” Zoe chuckled. “I know you’re trying to help me.”

Zoe took a deep breath before addressing her friends. "I'd like to give you an explanation. Ana and I had two fathers; our mother wasn't in my life from the start. From what I was told, she left my father one day when he went to pick up Ana from school. He was distraught and happy when she returned a couple weeks later. But she didn't come back to stay; she wanted to let him know she was pregnant. She wanted a divorce, but she didn't want me. But Papa convinced her to have me and promised he'd raise me and Ana alone. She agreed, and on the day I was born, she handed me over and never saw me again.”

“Zoe,” Shanon whimpered, taking her friend’s other hand.

“Yeah, well, screw her!” Angel blurted. “It was her loss! Your Dad & Ana loved you. That’s all that mattered.”

“But how did you end up with two dads?” Mina asked.

“Papa, my bio-dad, was good friends with Sam. After my mother left, he was there to help my father and Ana through. By the time I was born, they had fallen in love and not long after, they were married, and Sam legally adopted us. Ana said they were so happy; our family was complete."

“So the story had a happy ending,” Shannon started. “Until the outbreak, at least.”  

“Yep,” Zoe snapped. “But at least I had Ana and later Troy – they became my family, and Ana insisted I celebrated my birthday each year. But now that she’s gone, I just....”

She shielded her eyes when her voice cracked, not wanting others to see her cry, but she was following no one.

Eli and Troy shot each other a look of concern in the front seat as Shanon, Angel, and Mina tended to Zoe.

“I’m just afraid,” Zoe sniffled. “I’m afraid I’ll forget the little I know about my family. Ana was my touchstone; everything I knew about Papa and Dad was because of her, and she’s gone...”

“You’ll remember,” Eli called back. “You’ll remember, and we’ll help you. You can tell us the stories you know over and over again, and we’ll help keep those memories alive.”

“That’s a great idea,” Shanon nodded. “We could all talk about our former lives so we don’t forget the things that make us who we are today.”

“I’m so glad I have all of you,” Zoe declared.

“And we’re glad we have you,” Angel replied as the women embraced in a group hug.

The van wobbled slightly as Troy pulled over to the side of the road.

“Ladies,” he smiled. “And Eli...of course... we’re here. If you want some time, Eli and I could start, and...”

“No,” Zoe insisted, standing up and dusting herself off. “No, we have a job to do. Let’s do it!”

They split into groups to survey the well-picked-over stores and homes on their route. It didn't take long to realize they weren't going to find much in the rubble. Zoe was about to announce they should call it a day when something caught her eye.

Using her jacket sleeve, she brushed a thick layer of dust off a glass counter and smiled tenderly as she gazed at the treasure inside. She reached in and pulled out an old, weathered doll. The poor thing had seen better days but was in remarkably good condition. Her dainty porcelain face and arms were still in tact, and while her clothing was in need of a wash and had some loose trimming, it was amazing it survived this long. Noticing the enchanted look on his friend's face, Troy snuck up behind her.

“Whatcha got there?” He asked.

“A doll,” Zoe beamed. “I remember Ana and I had similar ones when we were little. Look!” She handed the doll to Troy. “I think her clothing is traditional Mexican attire. Papa was Mexican, and I believe my mother was half Mexican, too...”

“I know that,” Troy winked, handing the doll back to Zoe. “And you did have dolls like this growing up."

"I did? How do you know that?" She asked.

"Because Ana had described them to me. She told me to be on the lookout, and if I ever found one, to please let her know."

Zoe took the doll back, a feeling of contentment she hadn't felt in days washed over her.

"I think you need to give her a new home," Troy smiled.

“I most certainly do!"

Home. Zoe couldn’t wait to get home. She wanted to clean her new treasure and reminisce about a simpler time. Perhaps she could find more information in the old encyclopedia Troy put in the library.  She looked out the window of the moving van; the sky was now just whisps amber in a field of grey as the day neared its end. Home. She was heading home surrounded by her new family and the tranquility of the moment was cherished... but, alas, short-lived.

“Whoa, watch over there!” Eli yelled, pointing to a shadowy figure lurking on the side of the road. He raised his bow into position.

But as they neared the figure, something in Zoe came alive.

“Eli, wait,” she blurted. “Don’t shoot... I don’t think that’s a drone; it looks like a person.”

“And that makes them any safer?” Eli questioned.

“It’s an old lady,” Shannon snapped back. “She shouldn’t be out by herself at this time of day!”

“In the woods, no less,” Mina chimed in.

“Troy,” Zoe ordered. “Stop the van.”

“What?” Eli spat. “Are you out of your mind.”

“I said stop the van!”

Zoe opened the sliding door and jumped before anyone could stop her; Eli and the others were quick at her heels.

“What are you doing?” Mina asked. “You have no idea who that is!”

"Finally, some logic," Eli muttered.

“It’s an old woman out alone at night, and I’m not about to leave her. I know we live in a dangerous world, but if we lose our humanity - then we will truly have nothing left."

"Fine," Eli said, holding his bow in place. "But I'm keeping this out... just in case."

“Simmer down there, cowboy,” Troy mocked. “She’s hunched over and looks like she is ninety years old!”

“No matter... one wrong move....”

“Excuse me,” Zoe said, startling the old woman at first. “Do you need help? You shouldn’t be alone at night... especially not in the woods.  It will be completely dark any moment now."

The woman turned to Zoe slowly, and even in the dim light, with her wiry grey curls covering much of her face, it was easy to see her gentle smile and the kind look in her warm, brown eyes.

“It’s all right, child. I’ll manage. I always do.”

“Do you live around here? Can we at least give you a ride home?”

"The world is my home."

“You don't... you don't have," Zoe turned and looked at the others, but made the split-second decision on her own. "You're welcome to come with us and stay at our colony, at least for the night.”

The woman looked over Zoe’s shoulder at her friends huddled behind her, nodding at Eli, who still had his bow aimed in her direction.

“That one loves you very much,” the old woman teased.

Zoe looked back and rolled her eyes. “Eli, put the bow down.”

“No, no, no... mi vida,” the old woman smiled. “Leave it be. He’s protecting you; you should be grateful to him. But I assure you, I am of no danger to you.”

 “Eli....” Zoe repeated, but he was unmoved.

“Not... just... yet.”

“I'm sorry," Zoe apologized. "If it makes you feel any better, that’s how he and I met, too, and now... I love him.”

“That’s good to know,” the old woman chortled.

“Look, if you don’t have someplace to stay tonight, our colony isn't far from here. Come and stay with us."

“Oh, no," she shook her head, the grey curls bouncing in every direction. "I don’t do well living in colonies.”

Zoe couldn't explain why, but something inside her couldn't let this woman walk away. She had to protect her, and no was an unacceptable answer.

“I understand, but just for the night, then. You can wash up, get a good night's sleep, have some breakfast, and be off in the morning if you like. What do you say?"

She looked between Zoe and her friends, and with a polite nod, she agreed for just one night.

Troy extended his hand before helping the woman into the van.

"Hello, I'm Troy. I'm the nice one.”

"Troy," Zoe laughed, playfully hitting the back of his head. "Shut up!"

"We're all nice," Angel grinned. "Even the scary-looking one up front... as long as you're not a zombie or don't cross us."

"I'll take that into account," she smiled.

"I should introduce everyone. I'm Zoe, and you've already been introduced to Troy. This is Shannon, Mina, and Eli."

"It's very nice to meet you all. My name is Adelina."

Shannon was the first to reply. "It's lovely to meet you, Adelina." She gestured to a bag at her side. "We can eat back at Olympus, but there is water here if you'd like some."

"Thank you," Adelia replied, happily drinking the bottle of water in one long gulp. Zoe smiled. Obviously, the woman needed more help than she let on.

"We should be back home in about twenty minutes," Zoe informed. "You can rest if you like."

"Gracias, mi vida. I think I'll do just that."

Adelia looked out at the night sky. The shades of amber were long gone, replaced by a swath of black velvet. The scattered silver speckles were stars, the stars that would guide them home.

Home, Adelia smiled, then drifted off to sleep.

@choicesficwriterscreations

Tagging others separately.