#Chapter One: A Lonely Island Right?

[smileysuh]

double trouble

🌙 starring. Mingyu & Wonwoo x afab!Reader 

🔮 preview. Despite your tense relationship with Seungcheol, you’ve done your best to support him as a sister, and you know his teammates by sight alone. Jeon Wonwoo and Kim Mingyu, two Olympians… two sexy, athletic, very fuckable Olympians. You’ve watched Too Hot to Handle and Love Island, you’ve watched Singles Inferno, and you’re not on any of those shows. No, you’re in Thailand for your brother’s wedding, staring at his work besties like they’re your next meal. You know how problematic this is, but you’re yet undecided on just how far you want to go with this. All you know, is you’re alone at a bar, there’s two gorgeous men, and you’re feeling just lonely enough to go talk to them. 

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, threesome, pussy eating, blow job, fingering, masturbation, spit roasting, double penetration, doggy style, missionary, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, pain kink, spanking, spitting, choking, dom!Wonwoo, eager!Mingyu, overstimulation, breast worship, dirty talk, praise, dry humping/grinding, undertones of therapy/childhood sibling rivalry/bad family dynamics, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous, baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.9k

🍭 aus. Surfer Meanie au, Destination-Wedding au, my friend’s sister is hot au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I want to start this off by saying, I don’t know much about surfing or the Olympics, but fuck it, this is fanfic, and surfer Meanie is too hot to pass up. 

Prologue:

“And in an astonishing turn of events, Choi Seungcheol, representing South Korea in surfing, wins silver at this year's Olympics! I think we were all shocked when South Korea qualified for not two, but three contenders this year, and what contenders these men have been. We can see Jeon Wonwoo and Kim Mingyu watching from the beach, clapping for their teammate… and what’s this? Choi Seungcheol is not approaching his team, no! He’s going for his longtime girlfriend! Love is definitely in the air here today at the Olympics- and… no, is he getting down on one knee? I can not believe my eyes! Choi Seungcheol of team South Korea, who has just won a silver in surfing, is proposing to his girlfriend right here on the beach! What an end to the day for team South Korea!” 

One (Day) 

Wonwoo’s never been a fan of weddings, and he loves destination weddings even less, but he supposes Thailand isn’t the worst place for this sort of event. The waves are good, the climate is perfect, and with the entire wedding party scattered among the massive resort, Wonwoo is confident he’ll be able to slip away and have alone time if need be.

Sure, he’s excited for Seungcheol. They’re teammates, and while the new silver medalist has always kept his work and private life separate, Wonwoo knows supporting his friend at the start of the next chapter of his life is the right thing to do.

Besides, as Wonwoo walks through the resort an hour after arriving, he’s got Mingyu by his side, and they’re both eager to see what the waves here look like. It’s a week-long destination wedding, but Wonwoo’s pretty sure only two of those seven days will be really hard-core in terms of his obligations to the groom.

The resort has a number of amenities, one of which is an entire rack of surfboards, and as the two men approach it, Wonwoo notices you on the beach.

You’re under a shade umbrella, relaxing on a lounge. Unlike many people here, you’re not on your phone or reading a book, you’re simply looking out at the ocean.

It’s as if you must sense his gaze, because your head turns, and your eyes meet.

Wonwoo swallows the lump in his throat, turning his attention back to the boards. 

He’s never been one for one-night stands and is even less enthusiastic about hooking up with some random at a resort in Thailand while he’s there for his friend’s wedding. No, this week is all going to be training, relaxing in his off hours, and supporting Seungcheol, no matter how hot you might be.

One (Night) 

You’ve never been super close with your older brother Seungcheol. You suppose it boils down in part to him being the golden child. He was the athletics prodigy, and now, - surprise, surprise - he’s an Olympic-level silver medalist. Growing up in an environment where your sibling was overtly favored over yourself was difficult, and you spent the majority of your teen years being upset about it.

Through your anger, you found art, and now, you’re a successful entrepreneur. You work for yourself, you work doing what you want and when you want it. You have freedom, and maybe your childhood was a blessing in disguise.

Having gone through years of therapy to unpack this dysfunctional family system, you don’t hold very much anger anymore, and you’re actually kind of happy to be in Thailand to support Seungcheol, who really had no fault in your upbringing. 

However, even with admitting all of this to yourself, you also know you don’t want to spend the entire week attached to your overbearing and judgemental mother’s hip, so here you are, in the late evening after the dinner rush, enjoying a meal all by yourself in the hotel restaurant. 

It’s as you’re finishing your meal that you recognize two men entering the bar. 

Despite your tense relationship with Seungcheol, you’ve done your best to support him as a sister, and you know his teammates by sight alone.

Jeon Wonwoo and Kim Mingyu, two Olympians… two sexy, athletic, very fuckable Olympians. 

You’ve watched Too Hot to Handle and Love Island, you’ve watched Singles Inferno, and you’re not on any of those shows. No, you’re in Thailand for your brother’s wedding, staring at his work besties like they’re your next meal. You know how problematic this is, but you’re yet undecided on just how far you want to go with this. All you know, is you’re alone at a bar, there’s two gorgeous men, and you’re feeling just lonely enough to go talk to them. 

Finishing your drink, you stand up, wobbling slightly in your high heels as you set off to join the Olympians at the bar.

You settle next to the larger of the two, Kim Mingyu, taking a seat while his eyes turn to you.

“Hi.” You smile.

“Hi.” He grins back at you, all handsome and puppy-like.

“So you two are the infamous surfers,” you muse. “I’m Seungcheol’s sister, y/n.”

You suppose there’s no use glossing over the fact that you’re related to their friend, after all, they’re going to find out sooner or later.

Honesty has always been the best policy, and as recognition flashes over Mingyu’s features, you realize your brother must have mentioned you to them at least once or twice.

“Wait, you’re Seungcheol’s sister?” Mingyu asks in shock.

“In the flesh,” you laugh, motioning at the bartender for another drink. “What did he say about me?”

“He said you’re some artist,” Wonwoo chimes in, leaning over the bar top to get a better look at you. 

“Some artist,” you scoff. “I sell five-figure art, but if I’m just some artist, then fine.”

“Five figures?” Mingyu turns to exchange a look with Wonwoo. 

“Anything we would know? Are you in galleries?” the more inquisitive of the two asks.

“I’ve actually got an exhibition coming up,” you admit. “Celebrating the new generation of female artists in South Korea.”

“That sounds huge!” Mingyu gasps. 

“In the art scene, it’s a pretty big deal,” you laugh.

“Guess you’re just a family of overachievers,” Wonwoo muses with a smile, waving the bartender over as he gives you your second drink.

“Some fields are more recognized than others,” you sigh, fiddling with your straw.

“I always thought artists were super cool!” Mingyu tells you. “I draw a little, but I’m nowhere near your level, and Wonwoo, well, he can’t even draw a straight line.”

“Hey!” Wonwoo objects, turning his narrow gaze on his friend. 

You watch the two of them fuss together, and you try your best to figure out which one is more attractive, but it’s simply impossible.

They’re both stunning in their own right. Mingyu has those puppy-like, boyish good looks. He’s big and handsome and you can tell he knows it. Wonwoo, in contrast, is quieter, but he’s regal in a way you can’t quite put your finger on. He’s smaller than Mingyu, shorter, but he’s still larger than the average male, and his shoulders aren’t something to complain about either.

“So how did you get into art?” Mingyu asks, turning to look at you again.

“Uh… I think I was left to my own devices a lot as a kid. Seungcheol always had a soccer practice or a football game, and then it was going to the beach all the time- so I had to learn to find something to do with all my time waiting for him to finish up his sports.” You frown a little. Although you’ve learned through therapy to find the silver lining, it can still be hard at times to think back on your upbringing and all the times you were in a state of neglect. “Anyways, how about you guys? Surfing isn’t usually the first Olympic sport people decide to give a go.”

“I lived in Hawaii for a bit when I was a kid,” Mingyu tells you. “Surfing is religion there, and I was lucky to have a lot of mentors who helped me get started.”

“That sounds nice,” you smile. 

“And Wonwoo, well, he was a swimmer first,” Mingyu explains, speaking for his quiet friend.

“I tried surfing one day and never looked back,” Wonwoo finishes. “Nothing spectacular.”

“You can say that, but here we all are, at the top of our game, in Thailand to celebrate an Olympic silver medalist,” you muse, lifting your drink. “I’d say we’re all doing pretty spectacularly.”

“I like the way you think,” Mingyu grins, raising his glass.

Wonwoo says nothing, but he joins you in your cheers, and you all drink together.

“So…” Mingyu takes a deep breath and puts his empty glass down, “how did a guy like Seungcheol get a hot sister like you?”

“Guess all the pretty genes went to me,” you tease, skin heating with pleasure at the compliment.

“I wonder if this is why Seungcheol doesn’t talk about you often,” Wonwoo says quietly.

“What do you mean?” You cock your head to the side.

“I think he’s just saying, like…” Mingyu searches for the right words, “If Seungcheol ever showed his work friends your picture, we’d all… you know, think you’re hot.”

“You two are just trying to butter me up,” you laugh, heart beginning to thump faster in your chest.

Wonwoo leans forward. “Is it working?”

Two (Day) 

It might be his wedding week, but Seungcheol will be damned if he doesn’t spend even a bit of time enjoying Thailand’s ocean.

He’s up early, with Wonwoo and Mingyu beside him as they float on their surfboards after a couple of really good waves. Seungcheol really appreciates his work friends, they’re not as invested in his personal life, so when he’s with them, he can just forget about all the chaos and wedding jitters.

“So… Olympics 2028,” Seungcheol breathes. 

“Los Angeles,” Mingyu agrees with a nod.

Seungcheol looks at his friends. “How are we feeling?” 

“We’re feeling like you should retire and give us a chance,” Wonwoo jokes, flashing one of his rare smiles.

“We’re also feeling like LA waves are going to be insane… and they have sharks,” Mingyu points out.

Seungcheol laughs at his friends. Of course, Wonwoo would be thinking of medals, and Mingyu would be more focused on what could eat him while trying to win big.

“I’m sure they’ll have shark watch or something,” Seungcheol points out.

“Yeah, but Great Whites can attack from below!” Mingyu exclaims. “They’re designed to blend in with water, they’ve got grey coloring on the tops of their bodies so they’re harder to see!”

“Can we not talk about sharks while we’re in the ocean on surfboards?” Wonwoo sighs.

“If it makes you feel better, the only really bad shark in Thailand is the bull shark, no Great Whites,” Seungcheol offers, having done research on the subject before booking the resort for his wedding.

“Bull sharks are still a top three-man eater,” Mingyu frowns, looking down at the water.

“Don’t bull sharks usually attack in shallows?” Wonwoo asks. “Besides, you lived in Hawaii for a while, you’re still terrified of sharks?”

Seungcheol drowns out what his friends are talking about at this point, his gaze shifting to the beach. His eyes land on you, walking on the sand in search of a lounger. 

You must notice he’s seen you because you lift your hand to give him a wave, which Seungcheol returns.

That’s when he notices that his friends have gone quiet. 

“Are you guys done your shark talk?” Seungcheol sighs. “Ready to actually catch some waves?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Mingyu sighs. “So uh… that’s your sister, huh?”

“Yup. Little miss artsy fartsy herself.”

Wonwoo chuckles a little, and Seungcheol doesn’t miss the look he exchanges with Mingyu.

“We met her last night at the bar,” Mingyu explains. “She seems nice.”

“Yeah, she is what she is,” Seungcheol sighs. He doesn’t like to think too hard about family history, about the way he felt like he had to compete with you growing up. Somewhere, deep down in Seungcheol’s soul, he’s always been a winner, and when he was a kid, he hadn’t really realized that winning meant making a loser out of his sibling. There’s regret there, but Seungcheol’s not about to put in the hours that you have with a therapist to unpack all of it.

“There’s not much resemblance between the two of you,” Wonwoo muses.

“Yeah, I got the gene for good looks,” Seungcheol says, trying to make a joke out of it.

Wonwoo laughs. “Debatable.”

A sigh escapes Seungcheol before he can stop it. “Fuck this, let's get some waves. And just so we’re all clear, my sister is off limits.” 

Two (Night) 

Mingyu loves night swimming, and the resort has so many wonderful pools for him to be alone in while he does laps.

He’s sort of falling in love with Thailand. The sounds of animals in all the luscious trees, the warm temperature even now that the sun has gone down- God, he could get used to this.

He finishes up his swim, switching to a relaxed breaststroke to cool down, and that’s when he notices you sitting by the pool. You’re drinking a beer, and you’ve got a second bottle on the ground next to your lounger.

“Hi,” you smile.

“Hi,” he laughs. “Are you waiting for me?” 

“Yeah. I saw you swimming, figured I’d get us some beers.” 

Mingyu comes to the side of the pool, grabbing at the ledge and letting out a breath as you hold the second bottle out for him.

“I don’t usually drink after a workout,” he chuckles.

“Well, it would be a shame for me to drink alone,” you tease.

Mingyu can only nod at the statement, lifting the beer to his lips. 

“How was your day?” you ask.

“Pretty good. It started off with your brother, and then we caught some waves. Wonwoo and I went to look at a monastery or something in town today. It was nice.”

“Definitely sounds like a good day in Thailand,” you muse.

“How about you? Up to anything fun?”

“Not really.” You release a deep breath, and Mingyu gets the suspicion that this whole thing isn’t as much of a vacation for you as it is for them. “I’m supposed to be taking the week off, having just finished a whole bunch of work these past few months, but I don’t know, this place is so beautiful, I really wish I had some paint and canvas with me.”

“I’m sure we could find an art supply store or something?” Mingyu offers.

You wave your hand. “It’s okay. Like I said, I’m supposed to be taking the week off.”

“We’re all supposed to be taking the week off,” Mingyu tells you, “but Seungcheol, Wonwoo and I were all catching waves this morning, and I’m sure other people are taking work calls- it’s easy to say we’re here on vacation so we should just put out real lives to the side, but it’s another thing to actually do that, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” You let out a laugh. “Capitalism is a bitch.”

Mingyu considers your words. “I guess capitalism is part of it, but… we all have things we’re good at, things we love to do. I think capitalism sometimes takes the joy out of our hobbies if we’re making money off those hobbies in the real world. We’re surfing to keep our skill level up, but we’re also doing it for ourselves. I’m sure if you got a drawing journal or something and drew for yourself, it wouldn’t be hurting anyone.”

“And here I thought you were just another pretty face,” you muse with a grin, sipping your beer.

“You don’t know me that well yet.”

“We can change that,” you suggest. “Tell me more about you. I’m not stepping on any girlfriend’s toes by chatting with you right now, am I?”

“Nah, I’m single,” Mingyu laughs. 

“And how is an Olympic athlete like you single?”

“Good question.” Mingyu thinks about it for a moment. “I guess… Wonwoo and I are homebodies. We’ve been renting together since university, and we both just… like to stay home.”

“I didn’t know the two of you were roommates.”

“Yeah, it’s not something we talk about too often,” Mingyu chuckles. “Two Olympians living together isn’t the most endearing thing.”

“I think it’s pretty endearing.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s clear the two of you are super close.”

“We are.”

“So… I asked about stepping on any girlfriend’s toes… should I have asked about stepping on a boyfriend’s turf?”

Mingyu’s heart leaps in his chest. “No!” he blurts out. “Wonwoo and I aren’t- I mean… no, we’re not together or anything. We’re super close, but no.”

“You’re saying the word no, but I’m hearing there’s more to the story,” you point out.

“I mean…” Mingyu can’t even meet your eyes. “He and I are both into girls, it’s just- sometimes we’re into the same girl? So, yes, I’ve seen his dick, but we’re also just athletes so that’s part of the gig-”

“Mingyu,” you interrupt him. “Take a breath.”

“Fuck.” Mingyu takes a breath as well as a sip of beer. “You think I’m super weird now.”

“Not at all. You’re not the first athletes to admit to sharing girls. I hear it’s a pretty common thing actually.”

“It is?” Mingyu asks in shock.

“Apparently,” you shrug. “Look up puck bunny confessionals and all sorts of girls will tell you that they’ve been tag-teamed at hockey events, and that’s just hockey.” 

Mingyu’s too shy to ask for more details, and he doesn’t even know what a ‘puck bunny’ is, so he decides to switch topics as fast as he can. “Do you uh… have plans for tomorrow?” 

You lean back in the lounger. “Was considering going on a snorkeling thing in the morning. The resort offers tours. But… I didn’t really want to go alone. Fancy a snorkeling adventure with me tomorrow?” 

“As long as we don’t talk about puck rabbits and double trouble athlete tag teams,” Mingyu chuckles nervously.

You grin. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Three (Day) 

Wonwoo hadn’t been super excited when Mingyu convinced him to go snorkeling with you, but now that you’re all on the boat, he realizes it’s not the worst thing in the world.

“This alcove is well known for its whale sharks,” the tour guide says. “I know what you’re all thinking, sharks! Oh no! But rest assured, whale sharks are completely harmless to humans. I got a tip from one of my fishing friends that there’s a whale shark here today, how do we feel about getting in the water?”

Wonwoo looks at Mingyu immediately, and the larger Olympian doesn’t seem very enthusiastic about the prospect of diving with sharks.

“Let’s do it!” you say, surprising both men as you stand up.

The guide is as enthusiastic about it as you are, and soon the two of you are getting into the water while Mingyu and Wonwoo wait on the boat.

“She’s quite adventurous, isn’t she?” the captain of the small vessel asks.

“It would appear that way,” Wonwoo sighs.

“She a friend of yours?”

“We’re friends with her brother, he’s here for his wedding, at the resort,” Mingyu explains.

“Ah, I see. You’re both being good friends making sure his sister is okay while he gets ready for his wedding,” the captain nods.

“We’re not taking very good care of her from here,” Wonwoo frowns.

The captain looks out at the water, letting out a breath. “I assure you, whale sharks are perfectly safe.”

“Fuck it.” Wonwoo strips his shirt off, grabbing a snorkel and some goggles.

“Seriously?” Mingyu asks in shock.

“They’re harmless,” Wonwoo points out. “We’ll regret it if we don’t go in.”

Mingyu sighs, but he nods, agreeing with Wonwoo.

They both get ready, and then, they slowly lower themselves into the warm water.

For someone who spends so much time on the water, Wonwoo doesn’t spend a lot of time looking in the water. He’s immediately taken by the beauty of everything, the fish, the reefs- and he can see you and the guide in the distance next to a massive shape.

Giving a nod to Mingyu, the two of them begin to swim over to you. Wonwoo can feel his heart beginning to thump wildly in his chest at the sight of the whale shark.

He keeps telling himself that the shark is harmless, but it’s hard to keep even breathing when you’re next to such a massive animal.

Taking his eyes off the whale shark, Wonwoo turns his attention to you.

You look so happy, and fearless. It’s as if this is the first time Wonwoo’s seeing you in your element. Your walls aren’t up, it’s not all family politics and saving face- no, you’re being completely yourself, and it’s a beautiful sight.

The three of you all surface, and Mingyu immediately starts gushing to you about how amazing this whole thing is.

The both of you are like two peas in a pod, and Wonwoo, who has a harder time joining conversations, decides to stay out of it.

He simply watches, noting how good you and Mingyu look together… which kind of sucks, since Mingyu always gets the girls.

Wonwoo wants someone too, he wants someone fun, someone who brings out the wild side in himself- but he knows his greatest failing is being shy.

He was the odd kid in high school, a nerd- but at the same time, he was an athlete who no one would guess to be athletic just by looking at him. 

Wonwoo still finds himself stuck in this limbo place at times. He knows who he is inside. He knows he’s a good person, with values. He knows he’s good at his sport. But he just can’t find it within himself to be the most social person, and sometimes, like now, that fact comes back to bite him in the ass.

Three (Night) 

You hadn’t expected Seungcheol to ask you to come get post-dinner drinks with him, and you reluctantly walk up to the bar to meet your brother. “Hey, Cheol.”

“Hey. Didn’t see you all day.” 

“I went snorkeling, saw a whale shark, it was super cool,” you smile.

“Didn’t see Mingyu or Wonwoo all day either.”

“They came with me,” you sigh. “I didn’t want to go alone.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Seungcheol looks down at his drink. “So… you trying to steal my friends now?”

“What?”

“They’re my friends, and you also can’t have both of them.”

You can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “Cheol, we’re on vacation-”

“Yeah, but when I go home, these aren’t just some randoms. These are my friends, the guys I see all the time. This isn’t some innocent ‘hey I’m flirting with two guys at a resort, sort of thing,’ and we both know it.”

“Even if I was flirting with both of them, which I won’t admit to, it’s the twenty-first century, I’m pretty sure people are allowed to date more than one person.”

“You won’t admit to it, but you think it’s okay to date both of them,” your brother counters.

“Look, I thought you invited me for a drink, not an interrogation.”

“I’m just trying to look out for you,” Seungcheol defends himself. “We’re here in Thailand, I’m getting married- and you’re considering dating two of my friends. What if you want to get married one day, what then?” 

“Then I get married?”

Seungcheol lets out a groan. “But if you’re dating two guys-”

“Like I said, I’m on vacation.”

“So you’re not thinking long-term with Wonwoo or Mingyu?”

“I just met them!” 

“Okay, so we’re in agreement, no dating Wonwoo or Mingyu.”

“Seungcheol.” You shake your head, already exhausted with this conversation. 

“What?”

“I’m so tired.”

“Hitting on two men will do that to you.”

“I’m going back to my room,” you decide. “And just so you know, I’m an artist. I’m not exactly a traditionalist the way you are, and what I choose to do with my love life is my business.” 

Four (Day) 

Today isn’t going exactly the way Seungcheol had planned. He’d woken up with this sinking feeling after his discussion with you last night, and he’d decided then and there to get Mingyu and Wonwoo away from the resort for the day.

So here he is, clambering up a mountain on a hiking trail with his workmates, and Seungcheol can’t find the words to converse with the two men who have seemingly been hitting on you.

Wonwoo and Mingyu always find a way to chat though, and Seungcheol listens to them behind him as he forges the way up the mountain.

“Oh, Seungcheol! Did we mention we went snorkeling with your sister yesterday?” Mingyu asks.

“I heard about that,” Seungcheol sighs.

“Did you talk to y/n?” Mingyu questions.

“Yeah, she told me there was a whale shark or something?”

“It was the coolest thing ever!” the puppylike surfer exclaims. “It was the biggest animal I’ve ever seen!”

“We couldn’t let your sister go off on some boat with strangers alone,” Wonwoo says bluntly. “And we knew you were busy with wedding stuff, so we figured we’d tag along with her.” 

Seungcheol doesn’t even know what to say.

Logically, it makes sense that Wonwoo and Mingyu would go with you to make sure you were safe- but Seungcheol can’t help this sinking feeling that they’re the men he should be worried about you being around.

Not that Wonwoo or Mingyu would ever do anything bad to you- perhaps Seungcheol worries about your man-eating ways.

Mingyu had been terrified of ‘man-eating sharks,’ but he’s ignoring the clearest danger; you. 

Seungcheol has seen the way you date. Flings here and there. You capture men with your mysterious artist allure, and they fall head over heels for you, only for you to leave them on the curb with a new muse for your canvas. 

He doesn't want Mingyu and Wonwoo to be just another inspiration for emotional painting in your next art installation. 

But how does he even say that to them? How does he tell Mingyu and Wonwoo that you’re practically a love witch, who has very little care for the men you toy with?

Seungcheol bites his tongue. Maybe this is just a lesson they have to learn. But fuck, at what cost?

Four (Night) 

“So…” Mingyu sighs, sitting on his bed as he stares at Wonwoo on his own mattress. “Cheol is onto us.”

“Huh?” Wonwoo looks up from his phone. 

“Seungcheol was being so weird today on that hike, and he was even weirder when we talked about his sister. I think he’s onto us.”

“Onto us about what?”

Mingyu lets out another deep breath. “About us both being into y/n.”

“Hmm?”

“Come on, it’s the elephant in the room.” Mingyu rolls his eyes with exasperation. “We haven’t talked about it, but we both know what’s happening. It’s not the first time.” 

“It’s the first time the girl we’re into has been a friend’s sister,” Wonwoo points out. “Of course, Seungcheol is weird about it.”

Mingyu lays down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. “I really like her.”

“You really like every girl who’s cute, a little artsy, and up for adventure.”

“As if you’re not into the same thing,” Mingyu scoffs.

“Never said I wasn’t.”

Mingyu turns to look at Wonwoo, who is back to staring at his phone. It looks as if he’s given up on this whole thing, and Mingyu’s not quite sure what to make of it. “So… are you like… not going to try anything because she’s Seungcheol’s sister, or…?”

“It’s probably best if we keep her off limits.”

“Where’s the fun in that!? We wouldn’t be the first sports friends to tag team a girl!” Mingyu points out, thinking back to the discussion the two of you had about puck bunnies, which he has since looked up.

“We’re not going to tag team Seungcheol’s sister,” Wonwoo states, but he doesn’t sound too convinced, and neither is Mingyu.

Five (Day) 

The close wedding party is doing a wedding rehearsal today, and Mingyu’s kind of shocked to run into you at the pool bar before dinner. He hadn’t expected to see any of the Chois today, and it’s a welcome surprise as he comes to sit with you.

“Hey,” he smiles.

“Hey yourself,” you grin, turning in your seat to get a better look at him. 

“How's the rehearsal going?”

You take a deep breath. “As you’d expect it to. Lots and lots of details.”

“And you’re here… having a drink.”

“I don’t have a speech, so it’s not like I needed guiding on anything for this hour of the rehearsal,” you muse.

“No speech?” Mingyu can’t hide his surprise. “But you’re the sister of the groom! And you’re an artist!”

“I'm guessing Seungcheol doesn’t want me taking any… artistic liberties if you know what I mean,” you laugh. 

“Artistic liberties like…?”

“You know,” you flip your hair over your shoulder, “talking about the time he used a straw to spit boba pearls in my hair when I was seven and told me they were fish eyes, and how he used to be so immature, now he’s a man, and slightly more adult. That I’m so happy his wife found him because he’s always needed a Mommy’s approval and that’s exactly what she gives him. That sort of thing.”

“Ouch,” Mingyu lets out a whistle. “Definitely wouldn’t want that in a speech at my wedding.”

“Exactly, which is why I’m here, getting my… third drink in the past hour? Just want this whole night to be over.”

“Are you happy for Seungcheol at least?”

“Of course, I’m happy for him, he found a woman to put up with his bullshit.” You shake your head, releasing another sigh. “I am happy for him, I am. Just… family events make me a little neurotic.” 

“I guess that’s understandable.”

“It doesn’t help that the one meaningful conversation I’ve had with Cheol since I got here was him warning me not to be a whore who sleeps around with his friends.”

“Huh?” Mingyu freezes.

“He didn’t use those exact words, per se, but, the general connotation was he’ll think I’m a whore if I’m interested in two people at once. I think he forgets about the time in high school when he was stringing along two girls at the same time. At the start of relationships, there’s often overlap, and I think he’s been with his fiancee so long that he forgets about that.” 

“It’s also… you know, the twenty-first century.”

“That’s what I said!” you laugh, reaching out to push Mingyu’s shoulder. “It’s the time of sexual liberation, of threesomes and polyamory and whole planned orgy events in speakeasies.” 

“I don’t know what a speakeasy is.”

“That’s okay, hot shot,” you grin. “I could always take you to one sometime.”

“Yeah?”

“If Seungcheol doesn’t forbid me completely from being interested in you, I’d love to maybe go out once we’re all back in the city.”

“What about Wonwoo?”

“He can come too,” you say lazily, waving your hand, and it’s clear at that moment that you’re a little tipsy. 

“So… you’re interested in two guys.”

“And you both seem to be okay with it,” you point out.

“We are,” Mingyu states, deciding to speak for Wonwoo. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I knew it!” 

Five (Night) 

The rehearsal is finally done, and you can’t get Mingyu out of your head. You find yourself stumbling to his room, and it’s only when you knock and Wonwoo answers, that you remember the two of them are shacking up together.

“Oh,” you blink at the tall, stoic man.

“Hi.”

“I’m uh… looking for Mingyu.”

“He’s probably doing laps at the pool,” Wonwoo tells you, leaning against the door frame. “I could walk you down there, or you could wait here till he comes back.”

“I…” You swallow thickly, too drunk to make decisions.

“Looks like you need some water,” Wonwoo muses, looking you up and down. “Come in.”

He pushes the door wider for you, and you stumble into the room, collapsing onto one of the sofa chairs. Wonwoo grabs a bottle of water for you from the small mini fridge, handing it over.

“Looks like the rehearsal was a shit show,” he chuckles.

“All family events are shit shows,” you sigh, taking a huge gulp of water. 

“So… you and Mingyu.”

“What about me and Mingyu?” You narrow your eyes at the pretty man.

Wonwoo shrugs, laughing to himself. “I guess I’m just not surprised.”

“Is he usually the one who gets the girls?” 

You can tell from the way Wonwoo sighs and leans back that you’ve hit the nail on the head.

“He’s just more of an extrovert,” Wonwoo says diplomatically. “Girls are into that.”

“Quiet types can be hot,” you point out. “I don’t have a preference one way or the other.”

Wonwoo meets your gaze, and you can feel him trying to assess you, to assess this situation that you’ve brought to his door.

You’re horny when you’re drunk, and you didn’t bring any sex toys on vacation, so it’s safe to say you’re wound up. 

“Mingyu told me that Seungcheol had a chat with you about the two of us.”

“He did?” you ask in shock.

“There’s not much Mingyu doesn’t tell me.” 

“And this is why I thought maybe the two of you were a couple!”

Wonwoo shakes his head at you, but there’s a smile brewing on the corners of his lips. “Have some more water.”

You roll your eyes at him but you do as you’re told. “So… Mingyu told me you’d be okay with me liking both of you, was he right?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Wonwoo sighs.

“That’s what Mingyu said!” you bellow. “We’re all on the exact same page!”

“It would look that way.”

“So…” you swallow thickly. “Threesome in Thailand?”

Wonwoo laughs, and you love the way he looks when he’s smiling. He’s so pretty, and the entire mysterious, stoic facade falls away.

“Not when you’re drunk.”

“Give me like… half an hour and this whole bottle of water and I’ll be good, I promise!” you insist.

“Not tonight,” Wonwoo says again. “In fact, I think I should probably walk you back to your room right about now.”

“Boring!” you whine. 

“Boring, but the right thing to do.”

Wonwoo stands up, and he holds out a hand to you. You accept his offer, allowing him to pull you to your feet. You continue to whine as he escorts you across the resort to your own room, and when you get there, you pout out your lower lip.

“This is going to happen,” you tell him. 

“Sure it is,” Wonwoo laughs, using your keycard to open your room. “Goodnight.”

“Do I not get a little kiss?”

Wonwoo sighs, and then he leans in… only for his lips to brush past your cheek. “Get some sleep,” he tells you. “And tomorrow, after the wedding, we’ll all sort this out.” 

Six (Day) 

Wonwoo can’t stop staring at you. He’d thought you’d been pretty last night, but today, in your full wedding outfit, you’re an absolute vision.

He can’t get you out of his head, can’t get the thought of you asking for a kiss off of his mind.

He’d done the right thing by denying you, he knows that, but fuck- he’s wishing he wasn’t so good of a man.

You’re stunning, even prettier than the bride by Wonwoo’s account. 

Despite the differences between you and your brother, you’re awfully good at acting as if everything is alright, as if you weren’t drunk last night. You look like the perfect sister, the Choi family a vision of greatness. 

It’s obvious to Wonwoo, as it’s obvious to Mingyu, that sometime soon, you’ll be bedding them both.

It’s been a while since Wonwoo and Mingyu shared anyone, but Wonwoo’s sure the two of them will work the dynamic out.

The only thing he’s unsure about is what comes after.

You’re Seungcheol’s sister, which means, you’re going to be in similar circles for as long as Seungcheol is still in the sport- maybe even after.

Is one night of fun worth the tension on his relationship with Seungcheol?

If Wonwoo cops out, letting Mingyu get all the fun - because Mingyu is very unlikely to back out of this supposed arrangement - will Wonwoo regret it?

Is there a future here with you? Does Wonwoo know you well enough to take the chance?

He’s very distracted for the entire wedding, but Wonwoo can’t help himself.

You’re a risk, and Wonwoo’s never been one to dabble with those- but, something deep inside of him, is telling him you might just be worth it. 

Six (Night) 

It’s supposed to be the happiest day of Seungcheol’s life, but he can’t help the annoyance that fills him as he watches you and Mingyu dance together at the reception.

Seungcheol is tapping his fingers, considering intervening- when a soft hand places itself on his own.

“Cheol?” his new wife, Sumi, says, drawing his attention. 

“Yes?”

“Stop staring.”

Seungcheol had brought the situation up with Sumi a number of times this trip, and it’s clear she’s aware of what’s making him so irate. 

“Can they be any more obvious?” Seungcheol groans.

“They’re just having fun.”

“Too much fun.”

Now it’s Sumi’s turn to sigh. “Seungcheol. Is this really going to be our first argument as man and wife?”

Seungcheol pauses.

“This is your sister we’re talking about. I understand you being protective, of her and your friends, but we know how y/n is. This isn’t going to be anything serious. Let her have her fun, and try not to think about it too deeply.” 

“How am I supposed to train with these guys knowing they slept with my sister?” Seungcheol counters. 

“If you don’t ask for confirmation that it happened, you never have to know,” Sumi says simply. “Just, don’t think about it.”

Seungcheol releases a deep breath. He’s not about to argue with his wife, but the whole situation is still very frustrating. 

“For all we know, nothing will happen,” Sumi continues. “Just think about that.”

Seven (Day) 

Wonwoo is at his breaking point. Lounging by the pool with Mingyu, watching you swim- watching the water glitter along your body as you move fluidly through the water-

“Fuck me,” Mingyu groans, sipping his beer. “I think I’m going to have to sit here for a while.”

“Huh?”

That’s when Wonwoo turns to realize Mingyu is stiff as a rock in his shorts, using a lounger pillow to cover himself awkwardly. 

Wonwoo can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “Really dude?”

“I’m pent up!” Mingyu defends himself. 

“We’re leaving tomorrow,” Wonwoo points out. “Maybe it’s best for everyone if we behave.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “Okay mister half-cocked.” 

Wonwoo looks down immediately, realizing he’s now also sporting a half-chub. 

“Fuck.” Wonwoo grabs a pillow from the lounger beside him, placing it on his lap like Mingyu. 

“You know, it’s not even just about her being hot,” Mingyu says. “She’s an interesting person. She’s fun and artsy, and there’s emotional depth to her too.���

“I’ve never heard you say the words ‘emotional’ and ‘depth’ together in a sentence,” Wonwoo chuckles.

“Yeah, well, y/n has me thinking about big things.”

Seven (Night) 

You head to the bar after dinner with one goal in mind; getting the two hot Olympians into your bed. You’d seen them ogling you at the pool earlier, and after toying with the notion of not sleeping with Mingyu and Wonwoo, you’ve decided the opportunity is too good to pass up.

Mingyu and Wonwoo aren’t hard to find, they’re seated at the bar, thick as thieves. All it takes is approaching them to get their attention.

“Hey, y/n,” Mingyu smiles, looking you up and down. 

“Hey yourself, big guy,” you grin.

“Want to join us for a drink?” Wonwoo asks, already waving down the bartender for you.

“Actually, I was thinking maybe you two would want to get three bottles of beer and come to my room to check out my view.”

Mingyu swallows a noticeable lump in his throat. “Your view?”

“You know, my room is west-facing, and the sunset is gorgeous there, but you guys better hurry to decide or we might miss it.” You love teasing with them, and you love the way they both stumble quickly from their chairs even more.

Wonwoo says something to the bartender, and in five seconds flat, he’s holding three beers, intent to follow you to your room.

The walk is quiet, with tensions running high, but you think this is all part of the foreplay.

You have the power, and it’s absolutely dizzying.

The moment the door to your room closes behind the two men, you know you have them, completely, and it’s a wonderful thought.

“Here,” Wonwoo says, holding out a beer for you.

“Thank you.” You walk forward, toward your deck, sliding open the glass door to look out at the setting sun as it traces beautiful reds and purples along the ocean. “Told you the view was amazing.”

“It is,” Mingyu breathes, and when you turn, you find him staring at you.

“So…” You put your beer down on the outside table. “Are we doing this, or what?”

Wonwoo exchanges a look with Mingyu, and although you’re certain they’ve made up their minds, you’re also pretty sure it’s Wonwoo who has the most reservations about this whole thing.

“Look, what happens in Thailand stays in Thailand,” you muse. “Seungcheol never has to know.”

“I won’t say anything if you don’t,” Mingyu notes, looking at his friend.

Wonwoo lets out a sigh. “Fuck it.”

“Fuck it,” you repeat with a grin, joining the men in your room while shutting the door to the deck behind you. “Look, as artsy as I am, I’ve never had a threesome,” you explain. “So… I think I want you both to take the lead.”

“We can do that,” Mingyu nods, setting his beer down. 

“And if anything feels wrong, just say something,” Wonwoo agrees, also discarding his drink.

“Okay.”

You look between the men, and shockingly, it’s Wonwoo who moves first. He steps close to you, his hands reaching for your hips. “So… what do you like?”

“What do I like?” you ask.

“Yeah.” He leans closer, his lips ghosting past your throat, sending a shiver through your form as his mouth moves to your ear. “What do you like?” 

“Um…” You swallow thickly, already feeling as if you’re in a daze. “I guess, I’m good with rough.”

“Rough?” He nips at your ear lobe and it takes everything in you not to moan from the sensation. 

“Like… spanking, choking, manhandling-” You feel like you’re rambling already. 

“What else?”

“Clit stuff? I can’t cum without someone rubbing my clit, so, that’s pretty important.”

“Most girls can’t cum without clit stuff,” Wonwoo tells you. “So don’t worry too much about that.”

“What do you not like?” Mingyu asks.

“Well, I’ve never tried anal, and I’m not going to try it today,” you blurt out, causing both men to chuckle.

“Neither of us expected that,” Wonwoo muses. 

“Okay, good.” You feel like a weight has been lifted, part of you had been worried anal would be a natural stepping stone for a threesome, but these Olympians seem very devoted to making the experience a good one for you, something new but familiar, still within your area of interest.

“Come on.” Wonwoo pulls away from your throat, grabbing your hand to guide you to the bed. “Mingyu has zero patience, he was hard today just watching you in the pool, so you probably shouldn’t tease him for much longer.”

“I wasn’t the only one who was hard,” Mingyu snaps, and you look between the men. They’d really been hard just from watching you today? You’d had no idea how deep their interest in you has truly run, and it makes confidence flow through you. 

Mingyu takes a seat on the bed, and Wonwoo guides you between his friend's open knees.

Your hands find the larger man’s shoulders, and he looks up at you adoringly. He grabs the back of your thighs, pulling you closer. 

It only feels natural to get on top of Mingyu, straddling him as your lips meet for the first time.

He lets you control the pace at first, kissing you gently as one hand cups your cheek, his other pressing to the small of your back to help you get seated on him.

Soon, however, Mingyu is getting more and more eager, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip as he moans. 

You can feel yourself getting hotter by the second, and you allow the man entry to your mouth, grinding down against him as you make out.

He’s already hard in his board shorts, and that knowledge prompts you to hurry with undressing him. You start with his button-up shirt, working your way to open it up before you can push it from his shoulders.

Mingyu groans louder, allowing you to strip his torso, and then your hands begin to explore his muscular body.

His own hands begin to massage you, both of them moving to your ass, teasing you through your dress. Then, his fingers slip under the fabric, moving up in an effort to get you undressed as well.

Before you know it, you’re both halfway to nudity, with you in only a bikini, and Mingyu in his board shorts. 

Then, Mingyu is rolling you onto your back, his kisses descending to your throat, then your breasts-

You can only moan and writhe against the sheets, loving the way his mouth toys over your pussy, his tongue licking at you through your bikini bottoms.

“Take them off,” you tell him, lifting your hips to aid Mingyu.

The bed dips next to you, and you turn to see Wonwoo. “Can I take off your bikini top too?” he asks.

“Yes, please.” You swallow thickly as the two men get you fully naked for them, and it feels amazing to be bare for them both.

Mingyu immediately grabs your thighs, pressing his mouth to your core while Wonwoo begins to massage your breasts, his thumb grazing past your nipple deliciously.

You haven’t had someone eat you out in a while, and the feeling of a tongue lapping at your clit has you crying out. Your hand flies to Wonwoo’s thigh, squeezing him while he chuckles down at you.

“That good, huh?”

“So good,” you whimper. 

He pinches your nipple, and you cry out louder.

“Is this the type of pain you like?” he asks.

“Mmmm,” you moan, nodding. “Feels amazing.”

Wonwoo leans down over you, letting go of your breast to grasp your jaw.

You can’t help yourself, you lift your head a little, eager for his lips.

He gives you what you want, pressing his mouth to yours for the first time.

He’s a lot more calculated than Mingyu had been, controlled even. There’s something so sexy about a man who knows how to keep an even pace, and it has you moaning against his lips while Mingyu continues to eat you out as if his life depends on it.

It’s Wonwoo who decides when to deepen the kiss, and you grab at his shoulders, threading your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

This feels amazing- two mouths on you at once, worshipping your body.

Wonwoo’s hand slips down to your breast, pinching your nipple and making you cry out even more, your thighs quaking around Mingyu’s head-

Then, Wonwoo breaks the kiss, sitting up again to look down at you.

“Can I touch you?” you ask, noticing the tent in his pants. “Please?”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

Wonwoo shifts a little, pulling his shorts down just enough for you to wrap your hand around his cock.

He’s big, bigger than you’d expected-

“Needs lube,” Wonwoo tells you, pulling your hand away from him. “Your spit or mine?”

“Yours,” you breathe.

Wonwoo chuckles, then he leans over you again, grabbing your jaw and prompting you to open your mouth.

When you stick out your tongue, he spits into your mouth. 

“Now, onto your hand,” he instructs.

Fuck. There’s something so dirty about what he just did- spitting into your mouth, getting you to spit into your hand-

You’ve never been one for spitting, but if Wonwoo’s the one doing it? Fuck it, your mouth is wide open.

You spit onto your palm, bringing it to his cock.

The lubrication makes stroking him easier, and you do your best to focus on both men.

It’s a repetitive motion with Wonwoo’s cock, and it makes it easy for you to lose yourself in the feeling of Mingyu, who suddenly pushes two digits into your wet hole, making you moan even louder.

“Looks like he wants you to cum,” Wonwoo muses.

“I can do that,” you nod, whimpering again when Mingyu sucks roughly on your clit.

He’s pumping his fingers expertly, hitting your G-spot while your pussy loudly squelches around him, betraying how wet and turned on you are. 

“Come on, gorgeous,” Wonwoo encourages you, pinching your nipple again and making you moan louder. “Mingyu’s been good for you, hasn’t he?”

“So good,” you whimper, closing your eyes and giving in to the sensations.

“Then cum for us,” Wonwoo tells you, tweaking your nipple again-

The pleasurable pain is enough to send you over the edge, your core clamping down tight on Mingyu’s fingers, your thighs trying to close around his head while he continues to suck roughly on your pulsating clit-

The ecstasy of your orgasm is flooding through you like a tidal wave, taking over every inch of your body and making you delirious. 

You’re a gasping mess, but two sets of hands keep you steady, working you through your orgasm until you feel a tear in your eye from oversensitivity.

“Okay, Gyu,” Wonwoo sighs. “I think she’s had enough of your mouth.”

Mingyu lets out an audible whine, but he pulls away from your pussy. You can practically hear him lick his lips, then his fingers. 

“You tasted like magic, baby,” Mingyu tells you, and you open your eyes to see him standing up, pushing his board shorts down to reveal an even bigger cock than Wonwoo’s.

“Do we need condoms?” Wonwoo asks.

“No, I’m protected, unless you guys-”

“We’re clean,” Mingyu tells you, looking down at your pussy. 

“You sure about this?” Wonwoo questions, stopping your hand on his cock so you can give him your full attention.

“Yeah, want you guys to cum inside of me,” you whimper.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Mingyu laughs, dragging you to the edge of the bed. He rubs the tip of his length up and down your slit. “Ready, baby?”

“Yeah, fuck me,” you nod, picking up where you left off with Wonwoo’s cock, which you begin to stroke even faster.

Mingyu pushes an inch into you, letting your body adjust to his girth. You groan loudly, turning your head and looking at Wonwoo.

“Can I suck you off while he fucks me?” you ask. 

“Are you sure you can manage both of us at once?” 

“I’ll do my best,” you promise.

Your honesty must be amusing to Wonwoo because he laughs. “Okay, gorgeous. But I’m not going to have you lying down like this, we’re going to do this right and spit roast you.”

“Spit roast?” You blink.

“Just trust us,” Wonwo says, pulling away from you to stand up. You watch him get undressed, and Mingyu takes the opportunity to sink even deeper into your core, making you both groan.

“Do we have to spitroast?” Mingyu asks.

“It’s the only way that makes sense for her,” Wonwoo explains.

“Yeah but, I’d have to pull out, and flip her onto her hands and knees, and I don’t want to be out of this perfect pussy for even a second.” Gosh, Mingyu’s so whiney, it’s kind of adorable.

“Well, power through, champ,” Wonwoo chuckles, shaking his head at his friend.

“Fuck, fine.”

In one quick motion, Mingyu pulls out of your core and flips you over. His hands grasp your hips, pulling you up into doggy before guiding his cock back into your wet hole.

It seriously only took a second, and you’re groaning from the sensation of being filled again.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Wonwoo asks.

“It almost killed me,” Mingyu says dramatically.

Wonwoo gets onto the bed in front of you, and you push up onto your hands, looking up at him.

Wonwoo strokes your hair. “Sure you’re ready for this?” 

“Why do a threesome if you’re not going to try double penetration of some kind?” you counter.

“Little miss overachiever here,” Wonwoo chuckles affectionately.

“This pussy feels so good,” Mingyu groans behind you, landing a gentle smack to your ass that has you whimpering loudly.

“Let's see how your mouth feels.”

Wonwoo grabs the base of his cock, holding his length up for you. You eagerly move forward, wrapping your mouth around the tip.

It’s hard to move forward and get more of him in your mouth with Mingyu fucking you gently, but as his pace increases, his thrusts getting rougher, it gives you more leeway to sink onto Wonwoo’s cock.

You suck him eagerly, closing your eyes and enjoying the double-stuffed feeling.

“You’re definitely an overachiever,” Wonwoo groans, beginning to move his hips a little to meet your motions, making it easier for you. “Sucking me so good.” 

You groan around him, loving the praise.

Wonwoo had struck you as so shy when you met him- but it’s always the quiet types who are the dirtiest fucks with the most sinful mouths.

You love having both of them. Mingyu, who’s so enraptured by you that all he can manage are moans and whimpers, and Wonwoo, who’s controlled enough to praise you and keep a handle on the entire situation.

They balance each other out very well, and this whole thing feels like heaven. 

Mingyu is fucking you roughly now, and there’s something so oddly sexy about the force of his balls against your clit with each thrust- these men have you cock drunk, have you thinking about shit that’s never even crossed your mind before.

Another gentle smack against your ass has you moaning lewdly around Wonwoo’s cock, and pain blossoms across your skin deliciously.

“You get so tight when I spank you,” Mingyu groans.

“Then keep spanking her,” Wonwoo suggests.

“I don’t want to hurt her.”

“She said she likes it rough, I doubt it will be an issue.”

God, you love a man who listens, a man who takes note of your kinks. With your mouth full, you can’t exactly advocate for yourself, but you don’t have to, Wonwoo will do it for you. 

Another smack has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your pussy clenching tightly around the large intrusion.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, landing another smack.

The man behind you has slowed his thrusts now, too focused on spanking you to be cohesive, but Wonwoo takes the opportunity to fuck your face harder.

If he’d tried this when Mingyu was going wild, he would have risked making you choke on his cock, but now, he’s in control, and you love the way he dominates your mouth. 

You do your best to suck Wonwoo well, and the groans that begin to tumble from his lips are affirmation enough that you’re doing your job.

Mingyu’s finished with the spanking, and one of his hands slips around your body, fingers finding your clit.

“Want you to cum on my cock,” Mingyu tells you.

You moan a confirmation sound, and Mingyu begins to slowly fuck you again, rubbing your still sensitive clit harshly.

Wonwoo abruptly pulls out of your mouth, and you look up at him in confusion. “Want to watch you come undone for us,” Wonwoo tells you, his fist now wrapped around his length.

You watch him pump his cock, and fuck- it looks so good.

There’s a lump in your throat, and you swallow it thickly, overwhelmed by everything in the best possible way.

“Fuck,” you whimper, closing your eyes-

“Look at me,” Wonwoo instructs. 

It’s hard to do as he commands, but you do as you’re told, gazing up at him.

He continues to pump his cock, one hand in your hair to keep your neck arched so your eyes are on him.

Mingyu’s beginning to groan behind you again and the sounds turn you on even more.

You can feel the coil building in the pit of your stomach, and the whimpers escaping you are notice enough that you’re getting close.

“That’s it, gorgeous,” Wonwoo groans. “Cum for him, then you get to cum for me.”

God, his words are perfection, and the tension builds even more-

Mingyu rubs your clit harder, and you whimper loudly, hands beginning to shake as you hold yourself up.

“Fuck her harder,” Wonwoo instructs. “She’s close.”

Mingyu does as he’s told, and the roughness is all you need, a moment later, you’re gasping loudly, your core clamping down on Mingyu’s cock, clit throbbing deliciously.

“Fuck!” Mingyu groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as he begins to fill you up with his cum. 

His hands are rough on your hips, but you love it, love the way you can feel his cock pulsing as he shoots deep inside of you. 

When Mingyu finally finishes, you can feel his breath against your shoulders, and there’s something erotic about that too.

“Still ready for more?” Wonwoo asks, stroking your cheek.

“Yeah, want your cum too,” you tell him.

Mingyu chuckles, pulling out of you with a grunt.

He gets off the bed, moving to the bathroom, and leaving you alone with Wonwoo.

“Do you want to be on top?” Wonwoo questions.

“I’m tired,” you whine.

The man above you laughs. “Then I’ll do all the work, get onto your back.”

You do as you’re told, releasing a sigh of relief as you lay down on the bed. Wonwoo gets between your thighs. “Mingyu always makes such a mess,” he tuts. “We’ll have to clean you up after this.”

As much as he’s made a remark about Mingyu’s cum, the substance doesn’t seem to bother Wonwoo, who immediately drags the tip of his cock across your pussy lips, pushing in gently.

You groan, reaching up to grab Wonwoo’s shoulders. You tug him down on top of you, threading your fingers through his hair as you press your lips to his own.

Wonwoo kisses you back, beginning to thrust as he does so.

Mingyu is girthier, but Wonwoo is longer, and the tip of his cock hits deep inside of you, making you moan immediately.

Now that he’s inside of you, it’s clear Wonwoo’s not as much of a talker. He gives you his entire focus, his lips not leaving yours as he works you open, finding the perfect pace.

You know he wants you to cum with him, and you’d bet that he’s close after the blow job you gave him, so you sneak your hand between your bodies, gently rubbing your clit.

You’re super sensitive after two orgasms, and you can feel your pussy clench desperately from the stimulus. 

Wonwoo groans against your lips, adjusting so he can wrap one hand around your throat. He doesn’t apply a lot of pressure, just enough to make your body tingle with delight.

There’s something so erotic about knowing this man is stronger than you, knowing he could easily hurt you- but he won’t. He’s giving in to your desires, your kinks, in an effort to make this sex as good as possible for you.

A little more pressure has you whining, and Wonwoo breaks the kiss to look down at you. “Good?”

You whimper, nodding. “Good!”

His lips attack yours again, but there’s more ferocity this time, and as you rub your clit as roughly as you can stand, you know you won’t be able to hold out very long like this. 

The bed dips next to you and you know Mingyu has returned, but Wonwoo doesn’t break the kiss to allow you to give his friend any attention.

Mingyu’s hand glides up your arm, and he’s able to push it between your chest and Wonwoo’s, fingers pinching at your nipples.

You whine even louder, overcome by the pleasure that’s beginning to surge through you again.

Wonwoo’s fucking you roughly now, his hand still on your throat as he kisses your breath away, Mingyu’s playing with your sensitive nipples, and you’re rubbing your clit- this is definitely heaven, and you give yourself over to the feeling of it. 

God, to be worshipped by two people- how can you ever go back to regular one-on-one sex after this?

You can feel your pussy clenching, getting closer and closer to the edge-

Wonwoo breaks the kiss, his lips seeking out your throat. “I can feel that you’re almost there, gorgeous,” he groans.

“Yes!” you whimper.

“So do it, cum for us.”

He tightens his grip on your throat and your entire body fizzles with hot erotic energy.

You clench your eyes shut, focusing on the pressure in your abdomen-

One more tweak of your nipples has you gasping, exploding around Wonwoo, who groans lewdly in your ear, fucking you even harder in an effort to reach his high with you.

A moment later you can feel him filling you up too, and it feels so good to be this full. 

Mingyu relents on your nipples, and you pull your hand away from your clit in favor of wrapping your arms around Wonwoo, holding him close and panting while you both enjoy the last seconds of your highs.

When it’s all said and done, you can hardly open your eyes, can hardly move as Wonwoo gets off of you.

A minute later, someone is washing your inner thighs, and then, Mingyu is lifting you off the bed. You find yourself in the bathroom, held up by two strong men as they wash your body, pressing gentle kisses here and there.

“Think we fucked her stupid,” Mingyu chuckles.

“Three orgasms can be a lot all at once,” Wonwoo muses. 

“I don’t know about you, but if what happens in Thailand stays in Thailand, and this is the only night we get with her, I plan on giving her more than just three.”

“Let her rest a little, we’ll get her some water, and we’ll see how she feels,” Wonwoo reminds his overeager friend.

You can’t muster the energy to speak just yet, but fuck it, you’re not going to miss this opportunity, you’re aware of how fleeting it may be.

Epilogue

Everyone is at the airport, and Seungcheol can’t take his gaze off you, Wonwoo, and Mingyu. 

To the untrained eye, you might all just look like travel buddies, sitting together and chatting. But to Seungcheol, he can see right through it.

“They totally fucked,” Seungcheol says through gritted teeth, crossing his arms over his chest as he waits next to his wife for their flight out of Thailand.

“You’re overthinking things again,” Sumi reminds him, flipping through her fashion magazine.

“I’m not overthinking anything,” Seungcheol snaps, but then he takes a second to calm himself. “It’s not going to last.”

Sumi lets out a sigh. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

Seungcheol can’t exactly explain the emotions he’s feeling, there are too many of them, jumbled together and amplified. 

But as he watches you laugh with his friends, he realizes it’s the first time he’s really seen you smile in years.

It’s a thoughtless smile, a smile that’s not forced or trained to keep up with the family image. It’s a smile that says you’re completely at ease with the situation, and upon seeing it, something inside Seungcheol softens. 

Your entire relationship as siblings has been competition, and Seungcheol thinks maybe part of this whole issue has been the feeling that he’s competing with you for his friends’ attention. Maybe he shouldn’t be viewing it that way, after all, you deserve to be happy too.

Seungcheol’s pretty sure this love affair between the three of you won’t last, and when it’s over, he can have his friends back. He can pretend none of this ever happened.

But, Seungcheol supposes, as your brother, the best thing he can do is let this all go, and try to just be happy for you.

With one last sight, Seungcheol places his hand over Sumi’s, leaning in to give her cheek a kiss. “You’re my rock.”

“I know.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I haven't written meanie in forever and I'm glad I was able to spend time with them in this fic this month.

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🔮 preview.  To celebrate a year or so of being together, you, Mingyu, and Wonwoo are back in Thailand. It feels fitting to be celebrating a relationship that started here, and it’s with newfound appreciation that you enjoy the resort Seungcheol got married at thirteen months ago.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, threesome, double penetration, anal, fingering, pussy eating, spanking, groping, manhandling, fullness kink, praise, dirty talk, squirting, overstimulation, etc…   I petnames. (hers). Gorgeous, baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3 I teaser wc. 90

🌙 starring. Seungcheol & Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

When you’d returned to the city, you’d invited Mingyu and Wonwoo to your art showing. The two of them had come through for you, making the night even more wonderful than it had promised to be.

You’d all gone home after the showing together, spending hours fucking and talking- and things had just continued that way.

No relationship in your life has ever been this easy, and you realize, after almost a year of seeing the two men, that this isn’t a dynamic you ever want to give up.

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[irb-pascalito-99]

One Last Time

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (no outbreak AU)

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: angst, smut, rough sex, oral f!receiving, oral m!receiving, overstimulation, semi public sex (at Joel’s job site), pinv sex, multiple orgasms, breakup sex

Summary: After a conversation that ended in a breakup, Joel’s girl shows up at his job site to talk after hours. Despite everything else going on the two agree to be with each other one last time.

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter 16 of my ongoing fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more of this pairing check out my a03.

The inside of the dive bar is hazy with smoke. It's a dingy place, hidden on the outskirts of Austin with only a handful of patrons gathered around. Aside from a group of men at the bar who appear to be celebrating something, the place is dead. I nurse my drink at a table in the corner of the bar where they keep the jukebox, doing my best to disappear into the background. I wouldn’t bring anyone out to this bar for a night out, but it was close by the house and I wanted to get out of the house after Tommy picked Ellie up for her sleepover with Sarah. Apparently Joel is working late tonight.

I’ve been doing my best to ignore them, but Maria’s words still repeat in my head. The only one getting in the way of you actually being happy is you. I close my eyes and sway to the soft melody playing throughout the bar as I attempt to turn off my thoughts.

“Excuse me,” a husky voice with a British accent says from beside me. I turn to see a man standing to my left. He’s tall, with tousled brown hair and a muscular build. “Sorry to bother you, miss, but you look awfully lonely over here.”

The man’s bright blue eyes look me up and down, a sly smile painted across his face. He holds a beer in one hand, standing between me and the exit. I shake my head and take another sip of my drink.

“And what makes you think that?” I retort when I put the glass back down.

“You’ve been alone all night.” He responds. “You haven’t made a move to talk to anyone.”

“So you’ve been watching me.” I say, spinning the straw around my glass.

“Well, it’s pretty hard not to when you’re the prettiest girl in the bar.”

I take another look around at the other patrons. An older woman and her husband are drinking at one table. A middle aged man is arguing with the bartender, and the group of men my new admirer must have come from is watching us intently from the other side of the room.

“Yeah well, there doesn’t seem to be much competition.” The man looks around as well and laughs.

“You might be right about that.” He averts his attention back to me as I pick up my glass and finish the last of my drink.

“My name is Andrew.” He sticks out his hand which I reluctantly shake. “And yours is…”

“I’d rather keep it to myself,” I explain. I expect him to look dejected as I shut him down, but instead he looks amused. The man smiles at me as if I’ve issued him a challenge.

“Alright then, can I at least buy the nameless beauty a drink?” I don’t really want the company, but what harm could come from letting him buy me a single drink? I nod my head and hand him my empty glass.

“A Long Island” He smirks at me, taking it with him as he walks back to the bar.

It only takes him a couple of movies considering how dead the bar is tonight. When he walks back over to our table he walks with a swagger.

“Here you go,” the man says when he reaches the table, giving me a wink. He places the drink down in front of me.

“You really been drinking Long Islands all night?” He asks as I pull the drink closer to me.

“Yes, and?” I ask, maintaining eye contacts as I take a sip. The man chuckles and shakes his head.

“Nothing, it’s a strong drink that’s all…” For a moment the bar feels as though it’s morphing around me.

The dead hazy dive bar shifting to a lively country joint in the city. The man’s shocking blue eyes melting into familiar warm brown ones. I can almost feel my heart stop beating, my breath becoming shallower as I try to make sense of what I’m seeing. His hand grazes my thigh, his fingers smooth and gentle where there should be callouses. I blink again and the memory is gone, a panic beginning to set into my body. What am I doing here?

“Are you alright?” He asks, a look of concern cascading his face. I nod and push my untouched drink back toward him.

“I’m sorry, I actually have somewhere I have to be.” I say, stumbling a little as I place my feet back on the ground.

“You sure you’re alright?” He asks again, reaching over to help me as I gather my things. I pull out my phone to call a ride.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Thank you for the drink.” I say over my shoulder as I rush back outside.

I walk a little ways down the block before I pull out my phone and the little scrap of paper Joel gave me the other morning. I don’t know what I’m doing when I type the address of his jobsite into Uber. I try not to think too hard about it on the drive there either.

When the car finally pulls up to Joel’s jobsite the gravel parking area in front is empty, aside from Joel’s old truck sitting on the outskirts. I’ve managed to sober up a bit on the drive over, though my skin is still flushed. The car idles as I get out and thank the driver. After I hear the car drive off I walk closer to the construction area in the hopes of finding Joel.

The building in the lot is nothing more than a dark frame in the blue haze of dusk. No flashlights or lamps illuminate the space from what I can see. As I get closer I notice a faint orange glow through the window of a trailer near the entrance. I bury my hands in my pockets as I walk over, trying to ease my nerves as I try to figure out what I’m going to say.

The metal steps scrape against the gravel as I walk up to the door of the trailer. My stomach lurches when I stop just in front of the door. I swallow back the nerves climbing their way up my chest and throat.

I pull on the door, but it stops in its place making a thumping sound as the lock keeps it latched. Maybe he isn’t here after all. This was a stupid idea anyway. I turn back to the building behind me, trying to decipher if I can hear any sounds from the area.

“Damnit John, you forget your keys again?” I hear from behind me. The door slides open and I whip around to see Joel standing in the doorway, one hand on the handle and another on his hip as he turns around. He’s wearing his usual flannel shirt with a bright orange safety vest overtop. He stops in his tracks when he turns to me and realizes I’m not a member of his crew.

“Hey,” Joel says softly. He examines my face with a concerned look on his own. “Are the girls okay?”

“What?” I ask, distracted by the way the sleeves of his flannel bunch up around the elbows. I’ve never seen him in work mode before. “Oh, yeah, they’re still with Tommy and Maria.”

He looks tired. There are circles under his eyes and his curls are messier than normal. I can’t imagine how many hours he’s been putting into this project.

“Are you okay?” Joel holds the door open a bit wider to let me in.

I squeeze past him, breathing in his scent as I pass by. He waits by the door while I stand in the middle of the trailer looking around. There are blueprints spread out on the table near the kitchen area which consists of a microwave, a small countertop with a coffee pot on it, and a small fridge.

There’s a desk in one corner of the room with a pile of hard hats laying on the floor next to it. Orange vests and dirty coffee mugs litter the top of the desk. Closer to the kitchen space is a group of chairs and a couch the crew must use to lounge on between shifts. The entire place is covered in a layer of dirt.

I’ve never put much thought into what Joel’s work looks like. I’ve overheard him and Tommy discuss projects from time to time, but it’s different seeing him in this element. I walk over to the table and look at the plans Joel has there.

There are various lines erased and moved around. I struggle to read the different numbers and labels written in each of the empty spaces. I’m vaguely aware of the sound of Joel’s footsteps crossing the room as I attempt to figure out what it is they’re building. I feel the warmth of his body behind me as he murmurs my name.

“Are you okay?” He asks again. I turn to face him, immediately lost in the depth of his eyes. His eyebrows knit together in concern.

I hadn’t put much thought into what I would do when I got here, I just knew leaving that bar I had to see him. It’s selfish, but I can’t say goodbye without something to hold onto.

“I was thinking, I really don’t want to leave it where we did, physically. So I was hoping maybe, maybe we could…” I close the distance between us. My body presses against his. I feel his breath falter as I move my hands beneath the hem of his shirt, gently feeling the warmth of his skin while he shivers beneath my touch. “One last time.”

The minute the words leave my mouth his lips are pressed to mine again and then his tongue slides across my bottom lip. We grip each other close as we devour each other, my fingernails running down his chest, until we have to break for air. Even when our lips do part we stay close, our breaths tied together as they fan across our lips.

“You know, it’s really not safe for you to be on a jobsite without wearing the proper equipment.” Joel mumbles against me, making a joke to lighten the mood while I regain my breath.

His hands move up my body to rest loosely on my hips. I move my hands back out from under his shirt and grab his biceps. Leaning on my tiptoes, I kiss along his neck. His jaw tightens as he looks up at the ceiling while I press my lips delicately along the column of his neck.

“Is that so?” I whisper, swiping my tongue along his skin. The salty taste of sweat lingers fills my mouth as he gulps.

I move my hands from his arms and place them on his chest gingerly before gently pushing away from him. He watches with lust blown eyes as I cross the trailer to a pile of hard hats I saw when I came in.

I look over my shoulder with a wink before bending over to pick one up from the bottom of the pile. Joel audibly groans from across the trailer at the sight. I bite my lip and grin while I stand back up and grab a vest off the desk.

Before putting the vest on I turn back to Joel and take my shirt off, exposing my bare chest and torso to him. I throw my shirt in his direction which he grabs with one hand. A mischievous look is spread across my face when I put the vest on and place the hard hat on my head. I keep my eyes glued to his as I walk slowly back to where I left him.

Once I’m in reach Joel reaches out and grabs my hips beneath the vest, his thumbs skimming my bare skin while he rests his palms on the denim of my shorts. I press my lips against either side of his neck slowly before sinking to my knees. My hands trail his body carefully on my way down while I continue watching his face. He starts to breathe heavier when I kneel on the floor, his breath stopping entirely when I begin to unclasp his belt.

“I can’t…“ he begins, shifting on his feet when I free his belt from the loops of his worn down jeans. “I’m not gonna last if we-“

“I want to taste you one more time. Just relax, enjoy it for a little bit and I’ll stop before you come.” Joel nods ever so slightly and watches me push his jeans down his legs.

His cock bulges against the thin material of his boxers. I nearly drool at the sight of it, delicately tracing a finger against the outline of him. It twitches at my touch and Joel groans loudly. He reaches out to grip my shoulders while I move my hands slowly up his thighs to rest on the waistband of his underwear.

I look up at him beneath my lashes, placing the tips of my fingers under the elastic. His eyes are darkened, watching my every move intently. His length immediately leaps up when I pull his waistband down. Joel struggles to remain still as I ease his boxers down to the floor.

He looks perfect like this. I can feel the wetness gathering between my legs while I run my hands up and down his thighs. His chest heaves as he continues to watch my every motion. I love my hands up once more, holding his hips in place as I look up at him again.

I press a soft kiss against his left hip bone. His body tenses under my grasp, his chest no longer rising as he holds his breath. I grin against the skin on his hip and move to kiss the other side. When I pull my lips away he exhales again, a shiver running through his body at the same time.

His grip on my shoulder tightens as I slide my hand across his hip to his length. I watch his face intently with each movement. He grits his teeth as I begin to slowly stroke him. My confidence grows seeing the way his body reacts and the way he struggles to maintain composure under my gaze.

After a couple of strokes his tip pulses and begins to leak pre-come. I bat my eyelashes at him, leaning in slowly. He groans and immediately closes his eyes when I take him in my mouth. I start with the head first, swirling my tongue around it slowly. His hips twitch when I wrap my lips around him and he groans loudly as I push him further in my mouth.

I take my time with him, bobbing my head up and down slowly, taking more and more of his length each time. He inhales sharply the first time he hits the back of my throat, my lips wrapped around the base of him. I drool a little as I pull back. Joel wipes the saliva from my chin.

“Fuck baby,” He groans. “I’m so close.”

I grin, ignoring what I said earlier as I revel in the way he’s coming undone in my grasp, and pushing him back down my throat. He sputters at the motion, breathing heavily as I hold him there.

“Sugar,” he growls. He tangles his fingers in my hair and looks up at the ceiling. “Slow down, ya gotta-“

Joel lets out a strangled moan as I choke slightly around his length. I pull him out of my mouth, a trail of spit and pre-come dripping onto my chest and sliding between the valley of my breasts. I wipe my chin with my fingers, and push them into my parted lips while I maintain eye contact with Joel. A redness creeping up his neck as he watches me.

“Fuckin’ naughty,” Joel growls, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me to my feet. “Alright babygirl, my turn.”

Once I’m standing he grips my face with both hands. He kisses me hungrily, pushing me backward until my back meets one of the walls of the trailer, the hard hat clunking against the wall as he angles my face up to kiss me easier.

When I’m cornered between his body and the wall he moves a hand down my body to my shorts. I whimper against his lips as he undoes the button and pushes the denim down my legs. His fingers dance across the bare skin he’s exposed. Joel pulls his lips from mine to look down at his fingers between my thighs.

“No panties?” He groans. I giggle and bite my lip, squirming against him. Joel groans again and delves his fingers between my folds.

He slides his fingers through my slick a couple of times before sinking to his knees in front of me. He pulls his now soaked fingers from my center and brings it toward him.

“All this just from putting me in your mouth?” Joel asks, looking up at me and showing me his glistening fingers.

Past the point of being able to form a sentence, I whine in response as my slick starts to drip down my thighs. He smirks at me and brings his fingers to his lips to clean them. I pant while I watch him through hooded eyes, desperate to have his fingers back on my body.

Joel continues to grin up at me, watching my desperation as he lifts one of my legs to rest on his shoulder. The coarse hairs of his mustache rub harshly against my thigh as he presses kisses to the skin there, starting at my knee and moving closer and closer to where I really need him.

I hold my breath when his lips stop right at the top of my thigh. His darkened eyes sparkle as they look away from my face to the view in front of him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna miss this baby. Looks so pretty for me.” He presses a kiss to my clit next, the hard hat on my head thunking against the wall again as I throw my head back and squeeze my eyes closed. “Taste real good too.”

He teases me first, licking smooth circles over my clit but not adding enough pressure to actually get me anywhere. I squirm against him and desperately try to move my hips up to meet his mouth, but he pushes them back against the wall with a devilish grin.

“Joel, please,” I groan in frustration.

“Just relax, enjoy it for a little bit,” he says cheekily, quoting what I had said earlier when the roles were reversed. I huff and lean back to watch as he continues his languid strokes.

He slowly adds pressure until I begin to arch into his mouth again, my fingers pushing his cheeks away from his forehead to get a better view. He scrunches his eyebrows together in concentration while he pushes me further and further and fur-

“Oh god, right there,” I moan as he manages to apply just enough pressure to the right spot.

He continues the motion over and over as the pressure builds. The hand I have tangled in his hair pulls slightly, causing him to groan. I gasp as the vibrations send a shiver down my spine. Sensing the effect it had on me, Joel groans again and I snap. My walls clench around nothing as I moan and buck my hips while my climax washes over me.

The noises I make spur Joel on. Now that he’s gotten my first orgasm, nothing is holding him back from seeing out the next one. He laps at my folds hungrily, ignoring the way my body twitches under him. I’m seeing stars, still not completely over my first climax as a second washes over me.

I scream as this one tears through my body, more intense than the last. I yank at Joel’s hair and feel the tears build in my eyes as each wave of pleasure rushes through my body, electrocuting every nerve inside me.

“Joel!” I whine as I attempt to squirm out of his grasp. My body aches, my clit throbbing in sensitivity but Joel still isn’t stopping. “Joel, fuck. It’s too. Fuck it’s too much.”

I struggle to get any words out while I pull at his hair the wood paneling of the trailer sliding against my sweaty skin as I thrash. It’s so intense I’m nearly numb as he slides his fingers through my center.

“Oh babygirl, if this is the last time I’m ever gonna taste this pussy I have to savor it,” Joel says, kissing my throbbing clit again. “You can take more, right sugar?”

I’m not sure I can, the sensitivity from the past two orgasms is nearly painful, but I’m not ready for this to end. I’m not ready to be done with him, and I’ll take everything he gives me until it is over. I let out a whimper, looking up at the ceiling as I nod.

“Good girl,” Joel murmurs and dives back into my folds. His tongue laps up the juices from my last orgasm before moving up to my clit. I twitch as I try to remain still beneath him.

His tongue moves back to my clit, drawing circles on the bundle of nerves. I moan and clench his hair between my fingers. My third orgasm is already building when he pulls a hand from my hip and pushes two fingers inside me.

The sensation is overwhelming. I lose all ability to think as he begins curling his fingers inside me, pumping them in and out while I moan his name. I feel his lips twitch into a smile at my sounds as he continues to move his tongue against me.

My whole body tenses with each motion. I’m so close. I grip him harder, pulling at his hair and hearing my teeth as I feel the pressure building. I’m on the edge, peering into absolute bliss when he pushes a third finger in. My jaw drops as I gasp and immediately let go, no longer aware of anything except the feeling of Joel between my thighs.

My jaw drops in a silent scream and my body begins to slump down the wall as I no longer have the strength to keep myself up. Joel slows his movements, working me down from the edge as my breathing slows. I’m vaguely aware of the way he supports my body, even as he stands and wipes my juices from his chin.

He wraps my arms around his neck to help support me while keeping his hands around my waist. My eyes droop as I watch him press delicate kisses against my neck and collarbone.

“Mark me,” I whisper, not even realizing the words had left my mouth. Joel hums against my neck.

“You sure about that darlin’?” Joel mumbles against my skin.

We’ve always been careful not to leave evidence of our trysts visible to others, but if this is the last time I get to have him I want the reminder. I want to look at my skin tomorrow and remember I once was his. If this is the last time I want everything. I don’t want to hold anything back in concern for others.

“Yes, please, make me yours,” I mutter.

He starts with my breast, sucking the skin on the top of my left breast into his mouth before pressing his teeth into me delicately. A soft purple bruise is already forming on the skin when he pulls away to move further up my body. He pushes the bright orange vest down and nips my shoulder next, taking his time to smooth his tongue over the mark before moving on to make another on my neck.

He continues littering my body with marks, leaving as much of him as he can while pressing his hard length against my thigh. I move one arm from around his neck, trailing my hand along his body until I reach his throbbing cock. His teeth clenched a little tighter around my shoulder and he hisses against my skin when I wrap my hand around him.

“Baby,” he whispers as I position him between my thighs, rubbing his cock through my wet folds. The wet sounds of him sliding through my slick are obscene, only making me wetter.

“I need you,” I whine, sliding my hips against him again. His cock twitches at the words and he pulls his lips away from my neck.

He pushes his hips against mine and watches me with dark eyes. I can feel every vein and pulse of him against my clit as I try to push my hips further toward him. Another thrust forward and his head catches my hole, eliciting a moan from both of us.

“Jump,” he growls into my ear.

“What?”

“Jump” He doesn’t have to ask again, my body reacts to the word before my mind can even process what’s happening.

I jump up, Joel grabbing my ass and hoisting me against the wall. He holds me in place while I reach down and grab his length. I run my finger along the vein as I line him up with my entrance. He groans as he slowly pushes inside, my eyes closing at the stretch of him.

I’m going to miss the burning sensation of my walls stretching around him, and the way I can feel him pulse inside me. I’ll miss the way his hips feel against mine as he bottoms out and the sound of his low moan as the soft curls around the base of him tickle my clit while he holds me in place to let me get used to the size of him.

He starts the pace slow, his hands on my ass holding me up as he moves his hips to meet mine. There’s an intimacy to the way he’s holding me. He pushes himself deep inside me, each thrust a fluid motion, entangling our bodies so much so that we almost become one. I close my eyes as the emotion of it all becomes too much.

Behind closed eyes the memory of the night before my father’s funeral plays in my mind. The way he held me. The way he saw me. The way my ever needs and emotion became a part of him comes rushing back as I scratch my fingernails along the expanse of Joel’s back. I clench around him while he continues his movements.

“Look at me sweetheart,” Joel grunts. “Come on beautiful, look at me.”

I snap my eyes open to see his deep brown ones peering into my soul. The pure adoration on his face is enough to send me over the edge again. I gasp as another climax washes over me, gentler than the ones before but pulsing through my entire body. He maintains eye contact, continuing his thrusts as I hold onto him. He loves me. Each movement serves as a confirmation of what he told me, the action to prove the meaning behind his words. He loves me, and I feel so guilty because he shouldn’t.

As my orgasms ebbs I try to push the guilt away, rocking my hips against his in an attempt to change the pace. I bring my lips to his neck and make a mark of my own which seems to spur him on. Joel’s thrusts become harsher. He groans as I nip at the skin on the other side of his neck. As I pull away and lean back against the wall he wipes his thumb against my lip and glances down at my body.

The vest now hangs from my elbows, barely brushing the floor as my entire body moves with each thrust. His cock glistens under the bright fluorescent lights as he pulls back before thrusting inside me one again, fuck we look good like this. Joel looks down as well and whines at the sight.

“I’m not going to be able to look the guys in the face for days,” Joel grunts, his fingers playing with the bright orange mesh of the vest. The hard hat continues to thump against the wall with each of his deep thrusts. “Only going to be able to picture you wearing this shit.”

“Maybe that was the plan all along,” I whisper in the shell of his ear, letting my teeth just barely graze his skin. “Just giving you something to remember me by.”

He groans and untangles my legs from his waist in response. I whine as he lowers my feet to the ground and pulls out.

“What-“ He doesn’t bother answering or even giving me time to finish my question as he rips the hard hat from my head and turns me around.

Joel pins one arm behind my back as he pushes me against the wall. He kicks my legs apart, grabbing his cock and pushing back inside. I moan loudly as he starts a new, harsher, pace that is devastatingly good. My face presses into the wood paneling off the trailer as each thrust knocks the air out of my lungs.

“I’ll give you something to remember babygirl,” Joel growls in my ear.

He’s so much deeper at this angle. I can feel all of him, the tip of his cock pressing against my cervix with each thrust. I moan loudly as he thrusts faster. With my free hand I grab at the wood in front of me, my fingers pressing so hard I can feel the grains making indents in my skin.

For a moment I can almost forget this is the last time. I lose myself in the pleasure only Joel can give me. I’m floating, feeling every detail of this moment while being caught somewhere in a dream. The coil in my abdomen wraps itself tighter with each of Joel’s grunts.

I can tell he’s close too, his thrusts becoming sloppier and his moans getting louder. We both try to hold off as long as we can. Neither of us want it to end, not yet. I can’t let go of him yet, but I can’t hold on any longer. The coil snaps, and the second I tighten around him I feel him let go as well. His cock twitches inside me. He coats my insides with spurts of come as he growls and tightens his grip on me. The hands he has on my arm pushes me even further against the wall while I cry out for him, so hard I’m almost certain the whole trailer might come toppling over.

He slowly thrusts into me a couple of times as he comes down. When he stops moving he presses his lips against my shoulder where he pushed the vest away earlier. His length softens inside of me but he makes no move to pull out just yet.

He kisses my shoulder again and moves one hand around my body to draw circles on my clit. I hiss at the contact, completely spent from the several orgasms he has already gotten out of me but unable to pull away from the last touches I have left of him.

“I know darlin’, I know” Joel mutters against my shoulder as I whine. “I’m sorry but I’m not ready to let go of ya just yet.

I rest my forehead against the trailer wall and resign myself to his gentle strokes. Covered in the combined juices over our climaxes, his fingers glide easily against my bundle of nerves. Tears gather at the edges of my eyes, both from the overstimulation of it all and the realization that it's almost over.

“That’s it babygirl,” he whispers as my pussy clenches around his cock. “Be a good girl and give me one more.”

My tears slide down my cheeks as he works me over the edge, quiet moans escaping my body. He moans as well as he feels me pulse around him.

When my climax fades and I’m left catching my breath Joel finally slides out of me. I keep my forehead against the trailer wall, bringing a hand up to my face to wipe any evidence of tears away while he searches for our clothes.

When Joel returns he lifts one leg and then the other as he helps me back into my shorts. The remnants of him are already starting to slide down my thighs, but I don’t attempt to wipe it away.

When I turn to face him he already has his jeans and boxers back on, his belt unbuckled and hanging from the loops. Neither of us speak. I’m not sure what to say at this moment anyway. He keeps his eyes on my face as he hands me my shirt while I look away. I pull the safety vest off, handing it to him in exchange. We both finish dressing and stand in front of each other, a noticeable shift already swelling in the space between us now that the list has faded. Our costaron from the diner still rings true.

“We can sit and talk if you want,” Joel offers after a couple of minutes. I want to. I really want to.

“I probably shouldn’t.” I respond, avoiding his eyes.

Despite every cell of my being begging me to stay, I know I can’t. Each moment I spend avoiding the inevitable will only make it harder to walk away. Joel nods and turns his eyes to the ground.

“I’ll drive you home.” He mutters, grabbing his keys from the counter. He holds the door for me as I cross the trailer and grab my purse from the table where I left it when I got here.

Each moment of the drive is spent in a painful silence. He holds my hand in his on the seat between us, his grip tightening the closet we get to my house. When we finally pull into the driveway he reluctantly lets go. I take a deep breath as I leave the truck, not looking back at the man I’m leaving inside it.

I hear Joel call my name just before I open my front door. I turn to look at him, his mouth open and eyes wide. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was about to cry. He freezes at the next sentence, unable to say the words but I know what they are.

“You can say it,” I say softly, nodding my head and granting him permission.

“I love you.” He lets out, his voice cracking at the end. I bite my lip, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, turning my back and closing the door behind me.

This is an excerpt from my ongoing fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more visit a03.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

4: PROMISES OVER PIE

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Summary: After Bucky interrupts your date, he shows up uninvited with an apology, apple pie and ice cream. One awkward conversation later, a fake dating deal is struck— two weddings, zero real feelings… right?

Warnings: Mutual pining, fake dating shenanigans, Bucky being an awkward mess, mild language, and a touch of emotional whiplash.

Word Count: 2430

Bucky scratched his beard. It was a nervous habit he had acquired recently. In his vibranium arm he balanced a piping hot apple pie and a tub of vanilla ice cream. Here he was again, knocking on your door— uninvited. 

The expression of surprise on your face was rather comical. He looked rather sheepish, standing in front of your apartment, his bulky frame filling the doorway.

“Hey,” he said softly. His body language screamed with awkwardness. “I just wanted to… say sorry for last night. I didn’t mean to ruin your… date?”

You had just come home from a long day at work, filled with demanding clients and you were totally drained. The last thing you needed was another argument. But the scent of Winnie’s apple pie was enough to tip the balance in favor of accepting Bucky’s apology.

“What’s with the pie?”

“Winnie made it. She knows what happened and said I should share.” Bucky held out the peace offering. “I… I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly, but his tone was sincere.

What he didn’t tell you was that the pie from Winnie was his reward for scaring Leonard off.

You crossed your arms over your chest, not quite ready to give up your facade of righteous indignation. But your resolve was crumbling fast. “And the ice cream?”

“I thought the pie might get lonely.” He shrugged.

You couldn’t hold back the laugh, despite the lingering frustration you’d felt. But pie and ice cream sounded heavenly at that moment. Not that you were going to give in to him immediately. After several moments of Bucky staring at you unblinkingly, you stepped aside. “Fine, come in.”

Relief flooded his features and he stepped into your home. He walked through the living room, surveying his surroundings curiously until he reached the kitchen counter. Bucky had only ever seen your apartment during fleeting moments when you stepped inside. The previous night had been the longest he had actually stood at the entrance of your home. Unfortunately, he had been a little distracted to really take in the details.

Your apartment told him a little more about who you were. The place exuded a cozy atmosphere the second he entered, the type of place that felt like a home. The living room and kitchen had an open plan, a mirror of his own space, separated by a modest kitchen island. The walls were still the neutral beige that the whole building had been painted, but you’d added your own warmth with accents— soft, jewel-toned throw pillows on the deep, comfy couch, and a vibrant area rug that brought a splash of personality to the drab wooden floors. A small corner of the room was dedicated to your work. A sleek desk with a bright lamp, a few trays of tools, and your latest designs carefully laid out gave the space purpose without overwhelming it.

Bucky placed the food on the island, which sometimes doubled as your dining table. “You know, you're kinda saving me right now.”

“Oh? From?”

“Eating this whole pie alone.”

“Glad I could save you from yourself,” you smiled, pulling out plates and spoons. You handed Bucky a knife so he could start cutting the pie, while you rummaged around your drawers for an ice cream scoop that you swore you'd had when you moved in. 

Once the pie and ice cream were dished out on two plates, you each grabbed one and made yourselves comfortable across the island from each other. For a while you both ate in silence. Every now and then, you glanced up at Bucky, but he was staring at his plate, as though he was preparing to do battle with it.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you muttered, holding out the tub of ice cream.

“You’re gonna think it’s stupid.”

“Try me.”

“Well I know things didn’t exactly go as planned for you last night…”

“You mean how you totally derailed my plans?”

Bucky looked apologetic but continued anyway. “You mentioned that you needed a date for a wedding?”

“Yeah, my best friends are getting married.”

“Well my friend’s sister invited me to her wedding and they told me to bring someone. So I was thinking… what if we help each other out? I’ll be your date for your friends’ wedding, and you’ll be mine for Sarah’s. No strings attached. It’s a win-win, right?”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times. Was he really offering to be your date? Bucky? Bucky Barnes? The grumpy man who didn’t even want to speak to you? “Are… a-are you sure?”

Bucky shrugged for the umpteenth time.

Silence settled between you. The only sound that could be heard was the clanking of spoons against your glass-ceramic dishware… that and the gears in your mind which were now working over time. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you spoke.

“Look Bucky, I appreciate your offer. It’s really very kind of you, but—”

“It’s fine.” Bucky cut you off, standing up suddenly.

His abruptness took you by surprise and your spoon went clattering to the floor as you leaned across the counter to grab Bucky’s wrist to stop him from leaving. The vibranium wasn’t as cold as you had expected. “Wait… please?”

Bucky turned around, slightly shocked to see you touching him. You drew your hand away immediately.

“Sorry,” you whispered, your face flushing. Somehow you kept putting your foot in it when you were interacting with Bucky. Why did he make you so nervous?

“It’s fine.” Bucky bent down to pick up your spoon. “Go on.”

“I would love you to be my date to Aditi and Hanna’s wedding, but…” You exhaled slowly.

“But?” he prompted.

“But it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Oh?”

“So I might have told my friends that I have a… boyfriend.”

You watched as realization dawned on Bucky’s face. He didn’t speak, just waited for you to explain.

“Ever since they got engaged, it’s been hard. Watching them move on with their lives.” You looked down at the spoon in your hands, twisting it around in your fingers. “They kept looking at me with such pity because I’m still single. At their engagement party, even Aditi’s parents were offering to set me up with someone from the extended family.” You let out a frustrated groan. “So after a few weeks, I got so annoyed of hearing about my singleness, that I told them I was seeing someone. Just so they’d stop pestering me, you know?”

Bucky nodded. He knew. He knew all too well.

“Then it just sorta got out of hand. ‘How’s your boyfriend, Y/N? Any more dates with your secret hunk, Y/N?’ So many questions and it was just easier to say ‘good!’ and see them smile rather than face the pity in their faces when I told them I was single… again.”

You looked up expecting to see a disgusted look on Bucky’s face, but he was smiling at you gently. “I’m surprised that someone like you has trouble finding a date.”

“Says the man who doesn’t even want to be friends with me.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Bucky said, scratching his beard with a sheepish smile. “I just meant… you seem like the kind of person that people would be lining up to date.”

You snorted and shook your head. “Yeah, well then either I’m doing something really wrong, or you’re just better at faking than I am.”

He tilted his head to one side, surveying you carefully. “So, you really made up a boyfriend just to get the pity brigade off your back?”

“Pretty much,” you groaned. “It was easy at first. Felt harmless. But it just somehow snowballed, and now they think I’m in a serious relationship and there’s a wedding and everyone expects me to show up with this… amazing boyfriend.” You waved your arms as if trying to paint a picture of the perfect man. “They’ve created this persona in their minds because I refused to give up any details. You’d think he was Prince Charming from Cinderella, they way they talk about him.”

“I’d find the fairy Godmother more believable than the perfect relationship.”

You chuckled. “It’s a tough act to follow. But at this point, if I show up alone… I’m going to look super pathetic.”

“Then let me help,” Bucky said, a certainty in his voice that he didn’t quite feel. It was his mouth’s turn to speak out of turn. “I’ll be your fake boyfriend.”

“You what now?”

“Think about it,” he continued, expression serious. “You need someone to play the part, and I did kinda ruin your … other… plans—”

You grimaced, thinking about Leonard.

“—And I… I don’t exactly have a list of options for Sarah’s wedding.” He shrugged. “Maybe we can help each other out. Pretend a relationship for a couple of events and then go our separate ways.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously and you scrutinized his face, looking for signs of a bluff. Was he in jest? This was completely absurd. Bucky Barnes… the former Winter Soldier… the grumpy guy who barely tolerated your presence for more than five minutes… was offering to be your fake boyfriend?

“You’re serious about this?” you asked skeptically, words finally forming in your mouth.

“Do I look like I’m joking, Princess?” he smirked for a moment, the teasing nickname softening the sharp edge of his words. But then his expression changed, face giving way to something more earnest. “I mean, I get it if you don't want to but… if you’re keen on avoiding judgemental friends and relatives, you might as well have backup.”

“And… you’re sure about this? Like it’s not just a show up on the day and wing it kinda thing. It needs to be believable, so we gotta put some work into it.”

“It’s not like I have anything better to do. No more crimes against humanity to occupy my time.” He added, smiling wryly.

You winced at his words, the sardonic edge cutting far more deeply than Bucky had intended. Even though you had technically apologized to him, you still felt guilty for using those words and clearly they had made more of an impact on him than he had let on.

“Bucky…” you started, not sure of how to address the heaviness of his statement. “I didn't mean to—”

“I know,” he cut in, his expression was unreadable but his voice was surprisingly gentle. “It’s alright. Don’t overthink it.”

But how could you not? You cringed internally, replaying your words and his reaction repeatedly in your mind. “Still, I shouldn’t hav—”

“It’s okay.” He put his hand on yours, his touch grounding you. “Really.”

For a moment, you stared down at his hand, surprised that he was touching you. As you looked back up at his face, you asked, “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

What was wrong with you? Why didn’t you think before you speak?

Bucky blinked, rather caught off guard by your question. “Why would you think that?” he asked. But the little voice in his head answered for him. Why do you think? If you had acted less like an asshole to her, she wouldn’t believe that.

“Well,” you started, “you’ve pretty much avoided me since the day we met. I mean I know I’ve said some… dumb things but… did I do something to really make you hate me? Am I just—”

“Hey, stop,” he interrupted. “I… I don’t hate you. I just…” His words were quiet and reflective. “I don’t always know how to be around other people,” he admitted after a pause. “Everyone reacts differently when they find out who I am… who I was. Sometimes it’s easier to keep people at arm’s length.”

“When you say ‘arm’s length’, are we talking standard arm or ‘can-crush-human-skull-arm’ length?”

Bucky groaned. “I think we need to work on your jokes.”

“On c’mon, that was perfectly solid. 9 out of 10. Admit it— your lips twitched… you thought about laughing… you knew it was a joke!”

Bucky rolled his eyes but you could see the mirth in his eyes.

“Just you wait, I’ve got a whole arm—ory of puns stored up here for you.” You tapped on your temple with a smug smile.

“Can’t wait,” he replied, dryly.

“So, we really doing this?” you asked again, as if your whole exchange so far had been a twisted joke on his part.

“Looks like it, Princess.”

You nodded, letting a mild sense of relief wash over you. “Okay, we’re doing this. But if this goes south, I’m totally blaming you.”

“Oh, I see how this is gonna go. Haven’t even started and you’re already turning on me already?” Bucky crossed his arms over his broad chest. 

“It seems like you need this just as much as I do!”

“True. I guess we’re in this mess together.”

“So, who’s Sarah?”

“What?” 

“You said you needed a date for Sarah's wedding,” you clarified.

Bucky scratched the back of his head. “Sarah is Sam’s sister. She’s getting married in June and he’s been getting on my case about bringing someone. Can’t just get a random stranger to fly to Louisiana for a wedding, can I?”

“Wait…” You’d stopped listening when he had said ‘Sam’, the information processing in your brain. “Sam? As in Sam Wilson? Like Former-Falcon-now-Captain-America-Sam-Wilson— that Sam?”

“Yeah, that one,” Bucky said nonchalantly.

You blinked at him. “You say that like it’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not.”

“It is! I mean, Captain America’s your friend.”

“He’s just… Sam,” Bucky corrected, shrugging. 

There was a sadness that descended over his expression and you realized that you’d put your foot in it… again. You’d basically just remembered that Steve Rogers had been Bucky’s best friend and now he was gone. “Oh shit,” you muttered.

“Are you gonna make a big deal out of this?”

You bit your lip, unsure how to make this right. “I wasn’t trying to make it weird.”

“I know.” Bucky finally met your gaze and the sadness you’d seen had faded slightly.

“Still time to back out of this whole drama. I won’t hold it against you.”

Bucky stood up, grabbing your empty plates and taking them over to the sink. “This needs to be convincing enough, so we need to prepare. I’ll meet you on Sunday, 10am, we can get started.”

You gave him a confused look, but Bucky was already at your door before you could object or protest.

Before he closed the door, he shouted back at you, “See you later, Princess.”

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Posting schedule will be Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays around 2.30pm EST / 11.30am PST / 7.30pm BST

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Eighteen

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Nothing super specific, but things get pretty dark (at least in my opinion). Mentions of torture.

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Azriel grabbed Rhys by the front of his jacket, hands shaking horribly despite all his efforts to stop. It had started this morning, when another disastrous attempt to talk to Andrian had left Azriel with his mind in shambles, knife pressed against his own throat. It had been going on for weeks now. Someway, somehow, Andrian would find a way to break through Azriel’s defenses and force him to relieve his worst memories. Sometimes he dreamt of his burning hands. Mostly he thought of you, and the day he’d nearly killed you. 

“Tell me you didn’t,” Azriel growled desperately. “Tell me!” 

It was too easy for him to pick out when his brother was speaking with Feyre, and something about the way Rhysand had been looking at him— like he was a fraction of a second away from splintering into a million pieces — told Azriel enough about who had been sent for. You were the only one who could calm him. The only one who could do what he and Rhys had failed to do. 

Violet eyes shone from a perfectly handsome face. A face he knew too well. A face that he wanted to punch right now. 

“I’m afraid I can’t, brother,” Rhysand responded gravely. 

Azriel slammed his fist against the wall instead, taking out a chunk of granite that spit grey dust into the air. He swore beneath his breath, pacing the hallway and trying to steady his racing heart. He’d never wanted you to see this place. He’d never even wanted you to step foot on the island above, its rolling peaks a stark contrast to the tunnels below where Azriel conducted his business. Business that stained his hands a thousand shades of red. 

“You’ve been working yourself ragged, Az, and Andrian still hasn’t said anything. Not to you. Not to me. We need to know all we can about Koschei. Vassa’s on the brink of madness. Henna’s dead. I can’t even get past Andrian’s mental wards. What the fuck are we meant to do?” 

“So you thought to go behind my back and bring Y/n into this?! She’s not something for you to use, Rhys.” 

“She’s already in this mess.” Rhys reminded him, as he often did. His eyes softened as he looked to the locked door at the end of the hall with its small, rectangular window. Bars breaking up the lamplight glowing from within. “And you know she’d agree this is the best course of action. She’ll be able to do it.” 

Azriel’s hands shook. “Give me another week and I’ll get us the information we need. Tell Feyre to turn around. Don’t bring Y/n here.” Don’t let her see this part of me.

“The boy doesn’t have another week. He doesn’t even have a day.” 

The shaking traveled throughout Azriel’s entire body. His eyes darkened and he began the process of hiding his heart away within the void that curled inside of him. That wicked beast that was always on the verge of swallowing him whole. 

Feyre winnowed you both to the outskirts of the northern territories and you went from sweating in your fur-lined leathers to shivering in the knee deep snow. The Illyrian Mountains rose behind you like predatorial rows of shark teeth and the endless sea stretched in front, slate grey and empty except for lonely ripples of sea foam. Through the frosty haze you could make out a smattering of islands, each with their own tooth-like tips capped with snow and ice. Feyre looked at you, her eyes leaning more towards blue now that she’d tapped into the Winter Court’s power to stave off the cold. 

The Warren was protected by wards that made winnowing impossible, so you let Feyre scoop you up in her powerful arms, wings growing from her back like unfurling shadows before the ground dropped away from her feet and she took off into the sky. 

You clung to her shoulders, eyes slamming shut so you wouldn’t have to look down at the churning black waters and the rocks they crashed against. If you were to fall now, you could only hope you drown before the waves ripped your body to pieces against the rocks like meat torn between a pair of canines. 

You stayed frozen and tight as a coil until the rush of wind stopped and you no longer felt your stomach creeping up into your throat. You could have dropped to your knees and kissed the ground if you weren’t sure your lips would freeze there. You did shove your hands into the gritty sand though, breathing slowly through your nose until you finally had the strength to stand. 

Feyre led you down the long stretch of beach, waves whistling in the wind — a haunting, beautiful melody, like a woman crying. 

Azriel had discovered The Warren centuries ago. After a particularly brutal brawl that had left him with a broken arm and cracked ribs, he’d taken to the skies, desperate to escape the hard packed floors and burning scent of sex mixed with alcohol that seemed to invade every corner of the Windhaven barracks. He’d been fighting over a woman, a woman that had been dragged into the rowdy common room trembling with the telltale sign of a whisky haze over her burnt umber eyes, dress ripped and muddy. 

Did it even matter that he’d brought her back untouched to that leaning house with its wooden slabs frosted over and the chimney coughing up black smoke like a diseased lung? Azriel had wondered as he flew without a destination in mind. And when he’d finally collapsed on the island, frozen ground beneath his hands and knees and spitting out blood from his cut up gums, his shadows had tugged him towards the gaping mouth of The Warren, urging him to explore a darkness that was his and his alone. It had been his escape. A safe place in the world that had so few. But when Rhysand became High Lord and he the Spymaster, Azriel hadn’t hesitated to give up The Warren in the service of the Night Court, adding it to the long list of sacrifices he made so that he might actually start to feel like he deserved his place with his family. 

You stilled in front of The Warren’s entrance, black walls glittering and damp from sea spray. Jagged, cracked bone rocks hovered overhead like axes ready to fall, jutting out of a cliffside and curling over the beach in the shape of a hunched back or an unhinged jaw. Wind whistled from within like asthma — high-pitched and keening. 

“This is where you keep all your prisoners.” You weren’t asking a question, merely stating a fact. 

Feyre had had little time for explanations back at the House. She’d focused on defending your body against the frigid cold to come, her mind split between you and Rhysand as he worried over Azriel from miles away. 

“Not all of them. Only the ones Azriel finds useful.” 

“The ones he plans to torture for information.” 

From somewhere deep within the earth you swore you heard the clanging of chains, a growl, and a desperate groan that had the hair on your neck rising. 

Feyre’s usual warmth was gone, replaced by something with more tact and less care. “This isn’t a place for the faint of heart, Y/n. And neither is Azriel. He’s tried to hide this from you, but it’s as much a part of him as anything else and if you care for him as much as I believe you do, you’re going to need to get used to this.” 

There was the faintest flicker of doubt in your heart. “Andrian… he’s just a boy… you haven’t—Az hasn’t—”

“No,” Feyre said quickly. Horrified. “Azriel found him weeks ago trying to slip back into Day Court. We brought him here because it’s the most heavily warded place in Prythian and because the world needs to be protected from him as much as he needs to be protected from the world.” She grabbed your hands. They felt cold as ice. “Y/n. I swear to you, we haven’t hurt that boy. We won’t hurt him.” 

“I know. I just… I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Already you felt sick to your stomach just for asking. Azriel was many things — dangerous, cruel to those he felt were deserving of it, maybe even murderous at times — but he was still Az… and you weren’t afraid. Not even as you let Feyre lead you into The Warren, and you were swallowed whole.  

The mouth of the cave quickly narrowed into a tunnel before turning at a severe angle and twisting like a corkscrew downward. If it weren’t for you and Feyre’s glowing bodies, you might have missed one of The Warren’s slick steps and tumbled down forever. 

You passed by two offshoots, each branching out into their own secret tunnels that whispered and echoed and smelled faintly of blood. Coppery and sour. 

One of the rooms you walked through smelled like metal and limestone. The rust-colored ground and drain in the center of the floor told you all you needed to know about its purpose and before you could stop yourself, before you could even think about whether this was truly a good idea, you found yourself pressing a hand against one of the chains hanging from the ceiling. 

If Feyre was right and this was truly a part of Azriel — something horrible that needed to come with all of the good that he was — then you wanted to know. You felt that you had some right to know, and if it was the power the Mother had granted you, then you would use it when you saw fit. 

Feyre froze when your power flooded the room without warning, feeling the energy and fury radiating off your skin without even turning to look at you. You kept the memories a safe distance away, but drank in the knowledge of every horrible hand that had hung from that ceiling like you were reading a list of names from a book. You read their crimes. You read every drop of blood that Azriel had spilled on the ground. 

“Y/n?” Feyre asked tentatively, fearfully, when you blinked and released the chain. 

She had every hope the bond would snap in place for you soon and that you’d help end Azriel’s centuries of loneliness. That you might be the one to finally show him he was deserving of kindness. But to love Azriel as he was, with all his rough edges and the pain he could inflict as much as he carried… it was not for the faint of heart.  

“I understand why Azriel wanted to hide this place from me. This part of him,” you said quietly and to no one in particular. Not even to Feyre. “But he shouldn’t have.” Your eyes turned harder than stone. “They deserved it. Each and every one of them.” 

Feyre stood, shocked into silence, and it wasn’t until you gripped her arm and nudged her into the next room that she found she was able to walk again. 

You passed by more hallways and more rooms, some disturbingly clean and empty, others with chains hanging from the ceiling or littered on the floor. But the strangest part was, you could smell Azriel within these cramped walls, and that alone made you quicken your steps. 

You chased that familiar scent, walking confidently through the dark and passing Feyre until you were spit out in a long, neat tunnel with one metal door at the end. Tendrils of shadow flickered from around the corner. 

“Azriel?” 

Your heart pounded in your chest when you saw him leaning against the wall, hands folded behind his back. Rhys’s eyes flickered to you, then to his mate as she followed closely behind. Azriel stiffened, his eyes locked and heavy. Shadows tugged at his eyes and accentuated the sharpness of his cheeks. He looked like he hadn’t slept since the day he left you… which wasn’t so far from the truth. Because the whole time he’d been here, he’d been thinking of you, and the ways you might hate him for what he did and the sick corners of his soul. For—

You sailed into his arms, wrapping yourself around his torso and pressing your face into the hollow of his neck. Part of your mind chastised you, calling you silly and desperate as it reminded you it had only been ten days since you’d last seen him. But you didn’t care. It felt far longer than that. Too long. 

You needed this almost as much as he did. 

You disappeared behind his wings, cocooned safely in membranous folds and shadows that kissed your skin. Azriel himself buried his face in your hair, feeling some of his worst worries dissipate. You hadn’t run away. You hadn’t been so disgusted as to leave just yet. 

“Y/n,” he murmured your name before kissing your temple. “Gods, I missed you.” 

“I would hope so.” You murmured into the curve of his jaw, “I might be a boring bookworm but I’m better company than this place.” 

Azriel winced. “You have no idea.”

You missed the pointed look that Rhys and Feyre threw your way, but Azriel didn’t. He was tall enough to see over your head as Feyre pointed to the door at the end of the hallway, eyes glistening. They had come here for a purpose, and the sooner it was over with, the sooner they could all go home. 

Azriel’s arms tightened around you. “I didn’t want you to come here. I didn’t want… I didn’t want you to see the things I do.” 

“I know.” You traced the curve of his jaw, thumb smoothing over his cheek. “But I’m not afraid, Azriel.” 

His eyes flickered from fear to relief to love, like one of those picture books you had to flip through to see the scene play out. 

“You’re not?” 

You shook your head no. Then you kissed him on the lips and whispered the words for him and him alone. “I trust you. You’re the most terrifying thing here anyway, and you’re mine.” 

Yours. 

Azriel quitel liked the sound of that. 

Even here in the dungeons burrowed beneath empty frozen lands, Azriel found it within him to hope. Horrid creatures might be hidden elsewhere, creeping like slugs under the earth that he’d have to crush beneath his boot or tear treasured secrets from, but for now you were still by his side. For now you were still his and he would always be yours. 

You looped your arm through his and moved towards that door at the end of the hallway, steeling yourself for what you already knew was behind it. 

The light from the barred window flashed warm and cool then warm again. Light warped and pranced. The scent of rot hung in the air, humid and choking. You touched the door handle, feeling the magic fall away like it recognized you and opened up into a makeshift, but quaint bedroom. There were no windows here for there was nothing to see below ground, but some of Feyre’s landscape paintings hung on the wall. Faelights bloomed overhead, throwing light and heat on a child’s bed with green sheets, a table, and a bookcase overflowing with an assortment of puzzles and novels and toys. You felt your blood turn cold. They’d once belonged to Nyx before being repurposed for the little boy trembling on the floor. 

You stared at him in horror. 

The little boy who’d been so violently bright that morning in the marketplace was dull. Although he was wearing fresh clothes, his skin had turned a stone gray, black marks dotting his once silken, silver skin like a disease. He was aware of his condition, weeping on the plush rug cut in the shape of a flower as he batted at his arms, willing them to turn healthy again. 

“No no no no no no,” he sobbed. He grabbed at his pillowy hair in frustration and tugged. A cloud of fragile strands came away and he cried harder, trying to stick them back to his scalp. 

Rhysand’s face was broken and pale. He tried not to look at Andrian. He was too young. Reminded him too much of his own son. 

“You were right.” Rhysand’s voice was hollow, laced with a pain that grabbed your throat and squeezed. “Koschei did kill him. He’s been dead this whole time.”

“NO!” Andrian screamed. “HE DIDN’T! HE PROTECTED ME!” 

Fat tears rolled out of filmy eyes, dusty and brown as pond water. Rage filled him with new energy and he tried to attack your mind as he’d already done with Azriel. But there was something altogether different about your magic, something flexible that morphed and rearranged your mental walls until it felt like he was trying to attack himself. 

He gave up when your walls didn’t fall, and chose the physical route instead. You recoiled as he took a swipe, bony arms reaching out in an awkward lunge. But his legs were too weak and crumpled beneath him. He looked like a fish laid out to rot on a summer day — bloated and slick. 

“Koschei brought him back to life for his powers—”

“HE LOVES ME! PAPA LOVES ME!” 

“To use as he saw fit when the time was right.”

“But he can’t survive being separated for so long from Koschei’s power, can he?” 

Just like Vassa. Left on their own without their maker they couldn’t handle the curses that had been placed on them. They’d bend until they broke… unless they found another way… 

“The killings,” You murmured as the pieces slowly fell into place, “He killed those Librarians and the tailor and the florist…” You didn’t want to be right about this. You prayed to the Mother that you were wrong. 

But Azriel read the thoughts in your eyes and nodded. Feyre could only stand still and Rhysand couldn’t do more than speak out in that dead voice of his. 

Andrian had killed those fae, not just to send a message, but because that was the price for going against nature, for being brought back from the dead. Power demanded balance. To stay alive, Andrian had needed others to take his place. Those Librarians and the Velarians hadn’t been murdered. They’d been sacrificed. 

What Koschei had done to this boy — what he’d turned him into — made you want to crawl into a dark corner and stay there forever. 

Andrian’s sobs died out. A crack of lightning followed by unnerving silence that had Azriel’s blood freezing in his veins. Andrian wasn’t much older than he’d been when he’d first been tossed into that dark cellar. When his brothers had set his hands aflame. 

“He loves me,” he declared, as if saying it would make it true. He stayed curled up in a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth on his heels. “He stayed when Henna left me. He wasn’t afraid of me like the others. He took care of me.”

But Koschei hadn’t taken care of him. He’d taught Andrian to love him. To worship him, because that’s what he craved above all else. He’d helped the boy control his powers and had allowed him to live so he could send him off to die when it was most convenient. You’d thought Henna was Koschei’s perfect soldier, but you were wrong. Andrian was. He’d been broken and molded into something that should never have existed. He’d been sent to Prythian after his sister’s death to take her place. A boy who would have no choice but to return to the lake or die trying. 

And he was dying. You could see it clear as day. Two teeth clinked onto the floor and Andrian’s hands flew up to his mouth. He whimpered, eyes locking on you like you might be able to fix this. 

You wanted to beg Rhys and Feyre to do something, to fix him, but it was a useless endeavor. They wouldn’t have brought you here if they could just reach into Andrian’s mind and end it all peacefully. Andrian was too powerful for that. But you could use another way. 

You approached him like a wild, injured animal, grimacing when he tried to run at you only for his ankle to twist and then snap. He fell to the floor in a pathetic sprawl. 

“Hey there, little feather.” 

Andrian paused at that familiar nickname, watery eyes looking up. You said it just like Henna had once upon a time. The same inflection in a differently pitched voice. His lips trembled. 

“She left me.” 

You shook your head before kneeling on the ground in front of him. He smelled of death. It clung to his linen shirt and trousers. It clung to the few strands of hair still woven into his scalp, skin so thin you could make out his skull. 

“She didn’t leave you, Andrian.” You poured your voice out over him, as soothing as you could make it, forcing the tears down. “She thought you’d died and that you’d stayed dead. She had a little ceremony for you out near the willow tree and buried your favorite toy beneath it with a handful of water lilies. Do you remember it? The little wooden doll you dressed up like a soldier with the red cap and the silver shoes?” 

He clamped his hands over his ears, shaking his head while his weak neck teetered dangerously atop his shoulders. 

“Andrian—” You pulled his hands away and in a bold, dangerous move brought them to your temple and slowly lowered your mental wards. You didn’t give him free reign, but rather guided him through snippets of memories you’d taken from Henna before her death. They all revolved around him. Before, and even after Koschei had poisoned their minds, Andrian had remained her true priority. 

The boy’s eyes flashed from anger to confusion then, finally, to despair.

“She didn’t leave you.” 

Andrian waited a few moments that had your heart seizing, then rushed into your arms, tightening them like a vice around your shoulders and burying his face in your hair. You held your breath, but tightened your grip. You weren’t his sister, but you were the closest thing he had. 

Slowly, like sand falling through an hourglass, you felt his arms weaken and fall from your shoulders. He stared at you, wide and terrified as his hand snapped off at the wrist and fell to your side in a grey heap. 

“Make it stop. Please make it stop.”

You smoothed back his hair, shoving down the tears that threatened to fall. His eyes were white now and unseeing. “It’s ok, little feather. It’s ok.” 

“I don’t—” Even his voice was crumbling apart. Raspy and broken like cracked glass. He had little time left. The fight in him gone. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go to that dark place. Please don’t make me go.”  

Azriel had been watching the entire time, trying not to picture the little boy with dark hair, weak wings, and bandaged hands. He went so, so still. 

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. It’s going to be ok.” You promised. You forced your trembling lips into a smile. 

He took in a rasping breath. “Will you go with me this time, Henna? Please.” 

You gritted your teeth, brows furrowed in an effort to stay here instead of turning and sprinting back to the surface. 

“I will. That’s why I came” You brushed his hair away from his forehead, saying nothing when the wispy white strands were torn away from his scalp like silk… just like the memories of Koschei’s lake you plucked from his mind without him knowing. You swallowed the pain of what you knew was coming. “I won’t let you be alone.” 

He went quiet after that. Maybe his voice had deteriorated beyond saving, maybe he finally felt at peace. All you knew is that you needed to keep brushing his hair and holding onto his hand when he laid down and placed his head in your lap. He was like a little windup doll that had run out of string. He kept breathing until he finally stopped. 

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

So... this was a rather sad one, bit of a tonal shift if you ask me, but I wanted to wrap up the stuff with Henna and Andrian before we continue on to other things.

BUT, you have to appreciate when Y/n walks into what's effectively a torture chamber and goes "yeah, nope, still in love with Azriel." It's just one of those things that gets brushed under the rug but like... this guy's WHOLE JOB is inflicting pain upon people.... and you know what, it's a fantasy book, so who the hell cares. We stan Y/n being supportive of Azriel's career lol

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

Cursed Warlords Lmk Au - Chapter 1 - Meeting The Mortal

Sun Wukong and The Six Eared Macaque have been cursed. Luckily for them, a young mortal (You) has chosen to take care of them.

*Chirp* *Chirp*

Sun Wukong couldn’t believe this, he was a feared warlord! He was a dangerous being who struck fear into the hearts of humans. He ruled an entire island and had a whole island. Now he was but the size of a small cub, and he couldn’t figure out how to get back to normal. Growling he threw his arms around trying to shape-shift, which he was unable to do at all right now.`

*Chirp* *Chirp*

The sound of his mate caught his attention. He huffed as he turned to Macaque who was also stuck in the form of a cub. The two weren’t even demon cubs, no they were stuck looking like normal monkey cubs! He loved cubs, but he hated the idea of being stuck as one!

‘Calm down, being loud won’t do us any good,’ Macaque chirped jumping to sit beside him under a large tree.

Wukong huffed as he looked around, they were sitting in a large forest. It was dense and filled with highly dangerous creatures. None of which could best himself and his mate of course so there was no need for them to worry. Seemingly sensing what his mate was thinking Macaque chirped. ‘We can’t beat anyone stuck like this.’

Macaque wasn’t stupid, far from it he was a dangerous warlord who ruled right next to his husband. Now the both of them were stuck as defenseless cubs with no way to return to their own bodies. He held back his own growl at the thought, they would get back to normal, there was no way he would just sit back as he was stuck in a form like this!

They needed to think of a plan, hell they needed to find out how this happened in order to find a way to fix it! Macaque looked at his mate, he wasn’t taller than a foot now with the same bright golden fur and golden eyes. The marking under his mouth vanished but he still had his red, heart shaped mask surrounding his eyes. Though now it was closer to a peachy orange color.

‘You got any ideas on what to do than?’ Wukong growled back, they had been stuck in this form for almost two days now with no clue of how it happened or who was responsible. In that time this was the first time that Sun Wukong had calmed down enough to talk.

Macaque thought about it, they needed to get back to Flower Fruit Mountain and get seek help. Knowing his mate though there was very little chance that he would want to do that because it would show his weakness. That weakness having only just appeared once whatever curse was set on them settled. They had no way to get to The Mountain, they were terribly far from Camal Ridge as well as The Demon Bull King’s territory in the desert.

Wukong frowned when he didn’t get a response from his mate. His still taller than him mate, he was like an inch taller still even with both of them shrinking down to this height. It kind of pissed him off if he was to be honest. His mate who still had his six eared, feather like purple mask, as well as his dark purple eyes. The single marking below his lip had vanished and he was stuck with his bright white fur, which caused him to stand out rather well in this place.

‘We need to get to Flower Fruit Mountain,’ Macaque chirped, looking around for the best way to get back without drawing too much attention.

‘Okay? How do we do that, it’s going to take ages,’ Wukong whined in response, his tail whipping back and forth as he sat next to his mate.

Before Macaque could answer the two heard a snap from behind them. Immediately the two turned around, hackles raised and ready to run. However that didn’t happen when they noticed a lone human woman walking through the forest. The two glanced at each other confused as to why there was a woman all alone in the forest, especially a forest such as this one.

“Hey come on, wait up!” A young demoness called out behind her.

Okay so she wasn’t alone. The demoness was small, standing at three foot tall with ankle long black hair that gently floated around her. She was monkey demoness, with light grey almost white eyes and black fur covering the majority of her figure.

“You’re faster than me, you can keep up,” The human responded, pushing some branches out of her way.

“Come on. You don’t have to be mean, Reader,” The demoness whined jumping in front of you with a grin.

“I’m not being mean. And you still haven’t told me why you’re even following me,” you said with a deadpanned look as she walked forwards.

You didn’t hold any fear for the demoness that was clearly superior to you. Both Wukong and Macaque glanced at each other before climbing up a few branches to watch you for a moment. You were heading in their direction, they could get the demoness’s help back to the Mountain.

As you were getting closer however suddenly your foot snagged on a root and you went toppling forwards with a yelp. The monkeys couldn’t help but laugh at your expense as dirt and mud covered your face.

The demoness chuckled her tail swaying back and forth as she jumped to walk next to you. Getting closer the two noticed that you were wearing, very strange clothing. Dark blue pants that hugged her legs, a black top that barely covered her shoulders and strange boots.

“If I had known you would follow me than… Nah I still would have helped you. Anyways Spirit- if that is your name, can you point the way to the closest village?” You asked as you stopped below the very tree that the two monkeys were sitting in.

“Just keep traveling this way. At your rate, we might be able to reach it in the next three days,” The demoness shrugged with a laugh when you whipped your head around with a yell.

“THREE DAYS!? FUCK!” You groaned slapping your forehead.

Wukong and Macaque looked at each other again confused. Why were you so surprised, it’s not like that was a very long trip. Mortals were so impatient, they thought before glancing at the demoness. Just as they were about to try and get her attention, there was a loud screech behind them. Turning they saw a large demon bird. Immediately they stumbled just enough to fall off of the branch.

‘SHIT!’ Macaque chirped but before either of the two hit the ground they were caught in a pair of welcoming arms.

The demon bird went to attack only to flee when it saw Spirit who jumped in front of you with claws and teeth bared harshly. Almost immediately the bird was gone and you were now holding two small monkey cubs who were quickly trying to get out of your hold.

“… What just happened?” You asked looking at the two monkeys.

“Demon birds, gosh I hate those guys. They must have attacked these two, where are your parents little ones-,” Spirit kind of stopped talking as she looked at the two in your arms.

“Poor dears, you’re safe now,” You couldn’t help but mutter as you held them to your chest getting little chirps in return, mostly from confusion.

Humans weren’t nice, especially not to their kind. No humans were either hateful creatures or scared out of their minds. They would attack their kind or run away from them. They never cuddled with the enemy, so what was up with this one? Did she hit her head somewhere?

*Chirp* *Chirp* Wukong calls out, demanding that the demoness get the human to release them. The demoness stared at the two for a moment, nodding her head in what appeared to be understanding. However, she didn’t tell the woman to release them no instead she looked up at her and with a loud voice declared.

“Yeah, I have no idea how to speak monkey. Do you know what they said?” She asked, sweat dropping from her brow.

Both Wukong and Macaque stared at her in shock, she couldn’t understand them!? No! NO! NO! This was bad, they were stuck in this form and not even this monkey demoness could help them! Wukong couldn’t help the low growl that soon made its way from his throat. He tried to sound dangerous and threatening, unfortunately for him… But he only sounded adorable.

“SO CUTE!” You cheered pulling the two into a hug, Macaque quickly tried to push you away with his paw.

“Yeah, sure. What do you want to do with them?” The demoness asked with a frown, her eyes narrowing at the two cubs.

You looked at her with a confused expression before what she was asking hit you. She wanted you to decide where you two were going to drop them off. Looking down at them, you noticed them staring at you too. A warm smile covered your face as you pulled them slightly closer.

“We should find their parents,” you said looking back up at her.

“… I don’t think that’s going to work,” She responded with a frown.

You narrowed your eyes in confusion,“Why not?”

“Because they don’t smell like anyone else. There parents…” Her words were wrong, their parents weren’t dead. They never had parents, they were born from a storm and a stone.

“Then we’ll take care of them,” You responded determined.

“Wait… WHAT!?”

Opinions? Thoughts? My newest Au is Shadowpeach x Reader! Welcome to the Cursed Warlords AU!

Masterpost

Part 2 - Peaches and Plums

[shxxxbi]

EVERYTHING THAT WASN'T INCLUDED IN LOVE SEA THE SERIES 🌊

Episode 1 (Chapters: Prologue - 4)

next->

Tongrak's age

While Tongrak's age is never explicitly confirmed in the series, in the novel he says himself he's about to turn 31. His day consists of waking up in the afternoon, living on coffee, drinking alcohol as a hobby and staying up late. Regardless, his only worry is whether his cheeks will start to sag.

Intro scene: Love is such an annoyance, and those who are in love are the most annoying of all. It's so boring

In the novel Tongrak is actually at Khom and Connor's house, looking with annoyance at the couple being all clingy and lovey-dovey. As Tongrak and Connor engage in friendly bickering about Rak being "jealous" of the couple, Tongrak claims he would never want someone like Connor as anything more than a friend and jokingly asks Khom "I want to know if there are any more guys like you on the island. Introduce me to someone, will you?"

Cargo bike scene

Tongrak refuses categorically to get on the bike and asks the villagers around if there are other ways to get to the resort. Mahasamut watches him frantically running around until he lifts Tongrak up and places him on the bike himself.

Bar scene

While wearing all white in the show, Tongrak was actually wearing all black in the novel. In this scene specifically, he had been eyeing a hot foreigner sitting at a nearby table but was shocked to find out that man had been flirting with Mahasamut and had extended his stay to try to get the guy. Upon hearing this, Tongrak was annoyed at himself for almost going for "Mahasamut's leftovers". Despite being bothered by the mere mention of Mut's name, Tongrak kept thinking to himself "beneath those drab clothes was a well-built chest, not to mention that deep voice speaking in an incomprehensible Southern dialect, which could be quite seductive if whispered in the right tone".

Kitty Tongrak

Before Rak's arrival to the island, Connor warns Mahasamut about Rak's personality: Connor describes him as stubborn and self-willed, but also as someone who is very prone to loneliness, comparing him to a cat. Mut gets very curious about him and asks Connor if there are any restrictions he should be careful about. Connor tells him to be careful not to get scratched. Mahasamut's response? "I never let anyone scratch me for free". His curiosity makes him very eager to meet Tongrak because"such a lonely creature needs to be very well cared for".

Breakfast scene

To stop Mahasamut from getting on his nerves, Tongrak actually shuts him up by putting his hand on Mut's mouth. Mahasamut then grabs his wrist and kisses the palm of Rak's hand. The action made Tongrak's heart "beat wildly" and a "wave of heat spread through his body".

Rak's fall

As he watched Tongrak walk away in embarrassment after his fall, all Mut could think about was "how freaking cute he was". Walking back to the dining room with Rak, Mahasamut recalled what Khom and Connor had told him about the writer's personality, yet so far all he had seen was a "moody cat that kept hissing"

"And he liked feisty cats".

Horny Mahasamut

As he watched Tongrak working, he started admiring "the beauty Khom had so highly praised". Mahasamut admired Tongrak's facial features and slender figure, which he considered "a feast for the eyes". His eyes then dropped to Rak's fingers resting on the keyboard and Mut couldn't help but feel the urge to "kiss those beautiful fingertips just once, maybe nibble on them a couple of times too".

Mahasamut's dive

One of the reasons Tongrak reacted so badly in this scene, besides being worried about the younger boy's wellbeing, is because he thought Mahasamut had left him alone, in the middle of nowhere, on purpose. Upon noticing Tongrak crying, Mut reached out to wipe his tears away but Rak slaps his cheek with full force, while shouting.

Horny Tongrak

Our boy Rak wasn't just admiring "a broad chest, beautifully defined muscles and strong arms" but also the "dark skin that accentuated his masculinity". And most of all "the prominent bulge beneath the pants".

[burstfoot]

Hello! Here's an update on all of Arknights' currently accessible auxiliary material as of May 2024! There's plenty to check out, so I hope this is helpful for some!

Animation

Arknights Prelude To Dawn (S1) and Perish in Frost (S2): [Crunchyroll]

An adaptation of the main story, up through Chapter 0 to Chapter 6! It's much more fast-paced than the in-game story, so I wouldn't use it to replace actually reading it, but it's very cool to see some of these scenes in full animation. Season 3, Arknights: Rise from Ember, has been announced! Lee's Detective Agency: [Youtube]

A mini-series animated in a chibi style with a comedic tone. Focused on the adventures of the Kuroblood-illustrated Lee's Detective Agency! Distributed by Crunchyroll globally, but entirely free to watch.

Closure's Secret Files: [Youtube]

A cut-out styled series of shorts hosted by Closure which outlines a lot of the game's basic mechanics!

Holy Knight Light: [Youtube]

A short OVA focusing around Penguin Logistics delivering a package, celebrating Arknights' first anniversary. Officially posted to Youtube!

Kay's Daily Doodles: [Youtube]

Another free, comedic Youtube mini-series, posted to the offical Arknights Youtube account and focused around Ceobe! Here's some additional animations! Each event usually also has a 15 second 2D animated preview of the event, but there's so many of those that I can't list them all. Anniversary Event 3D Animations: Zwillingstürme im Herbst So Long, Adele Lone Trail Where Vernal Winds Will Never Blow Il Siracusano Ideal City Stultifera Navis Invitation To Wine Near Light Dossoles Holiday Under Tides Bonus 3D Animated Shorts: Legend of Chongyue Arknights Special - IL Siracusano Lo Scontro Youtube Shorts: Ch'en and Lin's Watermelon Splitting Game Part 1 Ch'en and Lin's Watermelon Splitting Game Part 2 Amiya's Siracusan Food Guide Part 1 Amiya's Siracusano Food Guide Part 2 Amiya's Special Gift Doctor's Gifts in Return 1 Doctor's Gifts in Return 2

Comics, Manga, Manhua

Officially Translated:

Rhodes Island's Records of Originium: Rhine Lab: [Offical Source]

A canon manhua centered around the circumstances that lead to Silence falling out with Saria and joining Rhodes Island with Ifrit, as well as Ifrit's attempt to save a dying infected stowaway on the landship. Essential reading for understanding the Rhine Lab storyline and characters - read it right after Mansfield for when it was chronologically released! One of the characters, Darya, is mentioned in both Ifrit's module and briefly in Lone Trail.

Rhodes Island's Records of Originium: Blacksteel: [Official Source]

A short story focusing on the lives of the Blacksteel operators aboard the landship. While it often gets overshadowed by the Rhine Lab manga which is bigger in scope, this is a great read especially if you're interested in Franka or Liskarm.

Rhodes Kitchen -TIDBITS-: [Official Source]

An anthology story related to the cuisine that's important to a variety of operators. While it might seem unassuming, the art is gorgeous and it's really well-written! The Blacksteel, Rhine Lab, and Rhodes Kitchen manga have all been sold in physical copies, if you're interested in having them in print!

Prelude Suite: Cadenza Virtuosa: [Official Source]

An epilogue to Hortus De Escapismo focusing on Arturia's background, with the second chapter serving as a prelude for Zwillingstrume im Herbst! An excellent read to get better insight into Arturia's character.

Angelina: Sketches of this Messenger's Journey: [Official Source]

A more comedically focused manwha, centered on the adventures of Angelina travelling across Terra as a Messenger! Currently updating, with recent chapters focusing on Sami and Siesta!

Unofficially Translated

The Dagger's Inheritors: [Youtube]

A 15-minute short 3D animated film about W's past and relationship with Theresa, released for the 5th Arknights anniversary. Arknights Comic Anthology: [Mangadex]

As the title says, a series of non-canon anthology stories regarding the cast of Rhodes' Island! Some of the chapters on Mangadex for the later volumes of the Comic Anthology specifically have been machine translated, but the same is not true for the other manga shared here. Chapters are hit-and-miss, but the whole series is generally a fun read! See the original post for specific chapter suggestions.

123 Rhodes Island: [Mangadex]

A series of non-canon gag comics for the CN server, usually updated when new operators or events release!

Arknights: Operators!: [Mangadex]

A compilation of shortform manga posted on the official ArknightsJP twitter account! Thank you to @sleepywoodscans for their work on personally translating these!

Arknights: A1 Operations Preparation Detachment: [Mangadex]

Part of the Terra Historicus website and not yet officially translated, focusing on Fang, Kroos and Beagle before they join Rhodes Island, and a catastrophe striking the Columbian city of Tkaronto. Thank you to @pooce-art for their translation work!

Other:

Arknights Ambience Synesthesia: [Youtube]

A series of concerts (4 so far), focused around Arknights' music! A live performance has been done every year, with skins released in-game for the concert's theme & 3D animations produced featuring the skin's cast in 2022, 2023, and 2024.

Monster Siren Records: [Spotify] [Official Website]

Arknights' official (and-in-universe) record label publishing game OSTs, themes for almost every 6 star operator that releases, and occasional bonus songs.

Arknights: Endfield: [Twitter]

An upcoming 3D action gacha game from Hypergryph, set in the far future of Arknights' universe on another planet. Currently in closed beta testing for both EN and CN servers!

UNOFFICIAL:

Some fandom-developed tools that might be of use to you are: The Arknights Terra Wiki. While it is a very accurate source for in-game data, take the explanation of in-game story and some specific claims with a grain of salt. The FANDOM version of this wiki is currently no longer mantained and subject to vandalism! Given you can translate or read Chinese, PRTS.wiki is the current best resource for game assets!

As well, the Arknights Story Reader can help you catch up on stuff you don't want to or can't read in game! Jacob Moreau on Youtube provides voiceover readings of many in-game stories as well.

Finally, Aceship's Toolbox provides access to a variety of tools, including a levelling calculator, a calculator to ensure the best recruitments, and all the CGs, backgrounds and character sprites that are available in-game as of So Long, Adele (as far as I'm aware, the sprite/cg gallery is no longer being updated.)

Conclusion:

Thank you for reading! I hope this provided some new information to you or is an easy reference source in the future. Some things, such as merch (i.e. board games) or the official lore book have not been included due to not being accessible or translated for EN players. I'm happy to continue to provide more information like this to make the art surrounding this series more accessible! If you have any questions, feel free to send me an ask.

[coldilikeit]

Chapter 2: The Island of Children

Male reader

𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𐦂

"This is not how I envisioned spending my weekend" David says "We're supposed to be relaxing! Not actively seeking out a kidnapper!"

"Think of it as an extracurricular, for your camp thing" you giggled, "Then maybe we'll have a saving children badge!" Hilda exclaims

"As much as I'd like to have a badge like that, we have homework, and it's an essay! I think we should be doing that instead" Frieda says while fixing the binoculars

David plops down on the sandy beach "Nonsense! Homework should be done as late as Sunday night with a hint of desperation and a tinge of regret"

"Or do it the subject before the assignment is due, you're at a risk of being told off by the teacher and the words are so scrambled, it takes instinct to make out the words" You add in

"Or you don't do it at all" Hilda says

"Yeah we also have those options" David smiles "What I'm saying, weekends are for days at the arcade or binge watching a show while eating junk food"

𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪

Children have been going missing, the shores of the Trollberg port that used to have little children playing fisherman have disappeared

"It says here that the 4 children went out to play and one went missing" Hilda says, Then she looks at her three friends

David seemingly to have read Hilda's mind immediately raises his hand "Not it", then you follow "I don't feel like going missing", Frieda was about to say the same but Hilda intervened "Oh you scaredy cats, I'll go missing, only because I know you'll look for me" she said

Then the four children walked, farther from the city, there was a cave.

Looking hesitantly at each other they entered the cave, "So far it's normal" Frieda says "Are you sure this is the right way to go missing?" She asked

"Uh guys... WHERE'S (NAME)!?!?" David panics, "What? I thought I was the one assigned to go missing" Hilda tilted her head

Frieda holds Hilda and David's hand "I think the kidnapper is the one making the choice not the kidnapee-" Hilda gasps "Wait. Is that a library?"

"What are you talking about? There's nothing there" Frieda says, "Uh-there it is, I mean it's not technically a library" She gets closer "Well it looks like a reading nook, with a comfy chair and a nightstand and one book." Hilda says

"Well... We can't see it, but can you read the book, maybe it'll tell us how to get (Name) back" Suggested David

𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪

"Hilda! Frieda! David! Where are you guys?!?" You yell in a panic

One moment you were in a cave, now you're on some island? Well the island looks harmless

"Hey umm are you alright?" A girl with Blonde hair and blue eyes offers you a hand "I know you're scared but the island won't hurt you" She looks your age

You're skeptical, so you don't take her hand, but she ushers you to follow and and with nowhere to go, you do.

There you see a town. A town run by children... Some children younger than you and some children older, some looked like teenagers

"Everyone! We have someone new!" The girl announces

The children celebrated.

"The Island saved another!"

"oh how you're going to love it here!"

"We'll make you bracelets"

Then one child, looked older and said something that intrigued you "We wish for a banquet! To celebrate the new kid!"

Then the town magically decorated itself, chairs and tables appeared out of thin air and danced to create a cozy dining table

Food that you loved appeared on the table one by one, to the appetizers, to the main course and dessert, all your favorite.

What is going on???

𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪

Hilda starts "Once upon a time, there was a girl, a child who was so lonely, because her family didn't love her, everyday her woes were ignored..."

David and Frieda sat down on the rocks of the caves as a makeshift chair

"But she loved her family still, then when the girl was 15, her family had gone on vacation with her family, but their boat crashed on an island"

"oh no..." Says David, covering his mouth in shock

"Luckily they all survived, but their lifeboat could only carry three people, so mother and father took the girl's brother and they left her on that island." Hilda winced

"the girl died and became a spirit, kidnapping unloved children to make them happy on her island by giving them whatever they wanted, every child could come and go as they please, if a child feels like staying, they may stay, if the child feels like leaving, the island will let them go, but they are always welcome" Hilda finished

"So... The only way for (Name) to go back to is- is if he wanted too?" Frieda groans

Then a bright light shone in the cave, and you popped out "Hah... I'm so full, I didn't think I'd have it in me to eat a 4-tier cake" you huff

"(Name)!"

They all shouted and hugged you, "You're back with us! You didn't stay there!" Hilda says happily

"I know I could get whatever I want there but... I couldn't leave you guys, you're my friends, I don't think I'll ever be happy if I know someone is worrying about me" you smile

"Kids!"

A shout from outside the cave, when you guys peeked out, you guys see the city safety force and the parents of Hilda, David and Frieda

"Oh there they are!" Yelled David's mother, the pairs ran to their children and hugged them "Oh I know how important the sparrow scout badges are for you but you shouldn't go do dangerous things to get them!" Said Frieda's mom while hugging her daughter tightly and her dad hugging both of them

"Are you hurt anywhere my son!?" David's dad picked him up and checked for any sign of hurt "Oh thankfully he's unhurt" sighs David's mom in relief

"I heard that you guys were planning on catching the kidnapper for a badge... It's sweet and heroic but... Don't ever worry me again" Johanna hugged Hilda with all her might

And it left you.

Standing at the entrance of the cave alone, with no one to hug you, no one to worry about you

You feel someone staring at you but when you look at the sea no one was there

𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪

"Father... I umm- came home late today, at 3:37 am" you tell Bruce Wayne

He just sighs tiredly, not even looking at you "I don't have time for your stories (Name)" he says

"well, I got transported to a magic island" you say, trying to get his attention but to no avail

"just go to bed" he grumbled and left his office to go to the library, like he always does every night

You feel a pang in your heart, the sad yet loving eyes of your friend's parents, you wanted to see it again, for you.

"You're always welcome to come back.... Take care little one... Live your life happily"

You hear a whisper, it's the island, or the island's spirit

"I- I will think about it" you whisper back

And you go upstairs to your bedroom and wept until your pillows were soaked and drifted off to sleep

𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐦂𖨆𐀪

Welp.... A bat appears, also

I LOVE THE SHOW SO MUCH

[catsteeth]

Sugar & Violence

Podrick Payne x reader 

+:✿ Chapter 5 ✿:+ : To The Wall

chapter index | next chapter

Summary: You’re a Mormont being held hostage by House Lannister.  You are acting now as the Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell, whom you’ve grown quite close with. But it seems that a squire has caught your attention as you have caught his. 

CW: afab reader, MDNI, pining, queer unresolved romantic tension, unspoken confession, threats of violence, misogyny, mention of violence, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of NSFW themes.

Word Count: 4.9k

 

It had been a few days since Joffrey's murder.

You had spent those days locked in your chamber for the entirety of those two days. You spent it laying about and hoping that Podrick had received your orders and followed them. 

How silly of you, you thought. Laying about thinking of a man, worrying about a man. How dreadfully pathetic. 

You hoped that the news of Joffrey's murder traveled North to your family. Your cousin, and your father. You hoped they heard it, it would satisfy them at least. 

But mostly you thought of Podrick. What he said before he left, he “wanted to marry you”. What would that have looked like? ‘(Y/N) Payne’, it sounded right to you, felt like bliss. You imagined he and you back on the Island. There’d be no need to sneak and hide, you could sleep in the same bed and sleep til the late morning without fearing anyone would catch you. 

Maybe you’d even carry a babe in your belly… 

Look at you, a silly girl twirling her hair thinking of boys as you laid on your bed. Now wasn’t the time for that, no now was the time to do everything you could to get back to him.

Just as you thought it, a guard holding a tray of food entered your chambers. “Supper time, bear bitch.” He said about sliding your tray across the floor. 

“Wait,”  You called out as you sat up on your bed.

“You aint got nothing I wanna hear.” He said pushing your tray across the floor.

You walked towards him, your hand trailing down the cleavage exposed from your dress. “I might have something you want to feel.” Your seductive facade was clearly working as the man closed the door behind him. “It’s been awfully lonely in this room, relieving myself on my pillows simply won’t do.” You whined as you trailed your other hand down his chest.

He looked around the room to make sure he wasn’t being set up, “You any good at it?” The man smirked,

“Better than any whore in any brothel. And cheaper too, infact I won’t cost a thing.” You batted your eyelashes and faked a giggle.

He cupped your chin, “How about your mouth?” You took his thumb and sucked on it, the man groaned “Hells, alright then get on with it-”

You immediately stopped and looked at him, your facade dropping, “Oh but for that you’ll need to help me with one thing.” 

The man groaned and whined about it but eventually gave in. After all, he was already half way hard.

You made him smuggle you down to the dungeons in a dark cloak. Down to the cells where they kept your lover's former Lord. 

As you stepped inside the dungeon cell you removed your hooded cloak.

“I must speak with you.” You spoke with intention and direct purpose. 

“Not very smart of you. You were accused just as I was.” He was clearly upset, being locked away in a dungeon does not tend to bring out the best in people.

“I am to be released soon enough.” You were already growing annoyed by the way this conversation was going.

“Not quite. You’re still in King's Landing.” He was right of course “Besides if two accused come together as one person might talk. ‘What other King will they kill?’” He spoke in a mocking tone.

“I didn’t kill a king. Why would I risk my Lady’s position?” You should have, but at that point, your attention was solely focused on keeping you and Podrick together. Maybe you were being selfish.

“Because by letting her marry him, you’d be risking her life.” You felt a comfort in knowing someone else knew and recognized his cruelty. Most were too scared to express it.

You looked down and rationalized, “She is a woman grown. Capable of deciding her own path. As are you.” You looked back at him, ready to return the accusation, “Joffrey was quite cruel towards you.” 

“As he was to most.” 

“Especially you.” You said stepping closer to him,  “No one would have blamed you for it.” 

“Oh but they could.” He said, holding up his hands in chains.

You shook your head, “I’ve not come here to argue with you.” 

“What did you come for? And how did you? The guard-“

You interrupted, knowing your time was limited, “I told him I’d suck his cock if he let me in.” 

He chuckled “Not quite faithful to our mutual friend are you?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“How do you-“

He interrupted you, “Please, I am not blind. Love comes from the eyes. I could see it in him and you whenever you found one another.” His gaze was softer, as if he knew how dear you were to Podrick. He shrugged, “That and I've seen him shuffling out of your chambers in the early morning.” 

“I’m not going to suck the guard's cock.” You shook your head and looked down almost ashamed you’d even told him that you would. You knew you wouldn’t, ever.  “Once I leave here, I’m going to tell him if he doesn’t forget it happened I'll tell the queen he let me out, and I’ve a witness now.” You said looking at him.

“You are smart.” He nodded, 

“I'm terrified.” Your eyes focused on him, “Never been terrified before. But I am… now.” You huffed,  “Not even for me. Cersei could throw me in here for a hundred years and I'd be content as long as I know I did what I could to free him from this place.” Your words were much more sweet and sincere than Tyrion would have expected.

He looked confused, “A squire. A loyal one I will give him that. But a girl of an honorable house name… picks a squire, I don’t understand.” 

“it’s not meant for you to understand.” You said defensively, then you sat on a crate that was in the room, you looked down and smiled, “He was kind. The only kind man I'd ever known. His kindness was pure of any ambition or desire. He was kind to me because he wanted to be. Even when he saw me being unpleasant and harsh… He still was kind to me.” You finished sounding sorrowful almost.

“He was a good lad.” He nodded, his face was one of understanding.

“He is. And right now all I am concerned about is where he is going?” Your voice was quiet and soft.

“You think I know?” His cynical facade, still hanging on.

“You owe him your life. Of course you know.” Your eyes looked desperate, and Tyrion could see it.

He looked down, “My brother Jamie has sent him to squire Brienne of Tarth. That’s all that I know.” 

“I can work with that.” You smiled slightly. 

As your conversation with Tyrion was coming to a close the dungeon door opened.

“Alright birdie, your times up with the imp. And your time with me is about to start.” The man was grinning ear to ear, it made Tyrion wince. 

You didn’t look at the man at all, not acknowledging his existence at all “Thank you.” You said to Tyrion before you stood and turned to the man in the doorway. “I’m not touching you and if you so much as whine I will tear your pathetic excuse of a cock off and stuff it in your mouth so that you cannot speak when the queen questions why you let someone accused of murdering her son out of her chamber and into the cell of another accused murder.” Your voice was deep and venomous.

Tyrion cracked a smile as the man stood there processing what you’d said.

One he did after a few moments of silence he took you by your arm and dragged you back to your chambers, huffing and puffing like a child the whole way. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

A few days earlier, 

Just as Tyrion had said Jamie assigned Podrick to Brienne to aid her in her quest to find the Stark sisters and bring them to safety. 

Podrick was heartbroken without you, and without the certainty that he’d find you anytime soon. However his one solace was that he was to serve the very woman that had inspired such happiness in you. When you saw her you saw a bit of yourself in her. You saw a great warrior and someone worth something. Podrick was proud to serve such a Lady.

“I don’t need a squire.” Brienne said annoyed that one was even being pushed onto her.

“Of course you do.” Jaime said

Brienne’s annoyance only escalated, “He’ll slow me down.” 

“My brother owes him a debt, he’s not safe here. You’re keeping him from harm. It’s chivalry.” Jamie smiled at her annoyance.

Podrick felt the need to interject, “I won’t slow you down, ser–” Brienne looked at him with daggers in her eyes and Jamie looked at him like he was mad, “My lady…” He attempted to correct his mistake. “I promise I’ll serve you well.” He nodded,

“See? He’s a good Lad. You’ll get along.” Jamie said, patting him on the back.

As their journey began Podrick realized two things. Firstly he did not learn anything in Lord Tyrion's service. Especially how to ride a horse, 

“Come on move,” Podrick said to his brown horse, trying to get it to comply with his directions that he clearly did not know how to give. 

Brienne looked over at him with irritation, “Didn’t they teach you how to ride a horse?” she questioned.

He continued to struggle with his reigns, “Yes, my Lady when I was young. There wasn’t much call for Lord Tyrion, though. He preferred litters.” 

“Perhaps you should have stayed with him.” She said clearly unsatisfied with Jamie’s ‘gift’  “It’s not going to be a pleasant journey for you. It could take weeks to get to the wall, depending on the weather.” 

His horse made its own way off the path and back on it again at its own leisure. “That’s a long way off,” He said, hiding his slight excitement as best he could. If they were going to the wall there was a chance he’d see you if you did as you said and escaped. Or at least he could try to convince your father to send aid. 

“Well Lady Sansa's brother is at Castle Black. If I were her that’s where I’d go.” She looked back at Podrick again, rolling her eyes, “Feel free to stop at any point.” 

“Never, my Lady. I am your squire.” he attempted to say it with conviction but his constant struggle made his tone waver.

“I’ve made it this far in the world without a squire. Don’t see why I need one now.” 

“All knights have squires, my Lady.” 

“I’m not a knight. And I’m not a slaver, either. I don’t own you.” 

“I swore an oath, my Lady.” His conviction was strong.

“I am releasing you from that oath.” She looked back at him, noticing he was still there, “That means you can leave.” 

“I know.” 

“What do you think will happen if you leave?” She raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious why someone would want to stay with her.

“They’ll say I wasn’t a very good squire.” The truth was the past hour proved to him that he couldn’t make it out here on his own. And if he were going to find you he would need to learn to stand on his two feet first. 

The second thing he had learned however, was how similar you and Brienne were. Though of course he preferred you to her. She was direct, stubborn, and clearly loyal. 

It made him more inclined to tolerate her words.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

A day after your meeting with Tyrion, Margaery had snuck into your chamber as she often did now. You begged her to find more information about where Podrick might have gone, the next day she'd already found an answer to your question. 

“Podrick left with Brienne of Tarth. Jamie Lannister commanded him to squire for her, aid her efforts to find Sansa Stark.” Her words were heavy as if she’d known something you didn’t.

“What is it?” You asked,

“I am to tell you that you may resume your duties as my lady.” Your eyes lit up and hers darkened, “You have been cleared as a suspect.” She said, once again her voice and her face did not match the happiness of the news you’d received. “I found these last night.” She handed you clothing and armor, you recognized it. It was the very same armor that you’d arrived in Kings Landing with. Not your best armor but you took it, happily.

“Thank you. Thank you for what you’ve done for me, Margaery.” You said sincerely, smiling at her.

“So you are leaving me?” She asked, 

You looked confused, she must've known it was coming, “I must. There’s nothing left here for me.” You said, your brows furrowed.

“There’s me. Your dearest friend.” She held onto your hand with a tight grip. 

“Margaery, Pod-” You began to explain but she interrupted. 

“My last two husbands were murdered. I could have run to the high garden but I didn't.” 

“You’ve a goal, and I’ve mine.” You tried to reason with her.

She shook her head as if she were shaking away her thoughts from it, “I know. I know. Love.” She said as if the word were a silly concept, something foreign. “I just wish you’d choose me.”

You leaned into her, “This place is not safe. for me or for you for that matter. You should leave, marry someone who you love.” You tried to have her see reason.

She shook her head, looking at you with eyes filled with an emotion you did not understand. “I can’t marry someone I love.” she looked down at her hand hold yours then back into your eyes, “I am going to be the Queen.”

You nodded, she had made her choice and you made yours, “And I cannot always be your lady- Handmaiden.” 

“Why not?” You were about to open your mouth to explain but she stopped you, forcing a false smile. “You are right. It’s best we leave our girlhood behind us and realize we’ve stepped into our womanhood. Silly dreams and feelings cannot hold such weight. But, for whatever it may be worth, however little. I enjoyed the time," She held your hand even tighter, "The time we spent laughing.” You smiled at her, you understood now. But still, I could not give her what she wanted. “The Guards by the stables leave it unattended for a few minutes each night, when the moon is highest. That’s your best chance.” She said, slightly tearing up. 

“Goodbye, and thank you.” You said, smiling warmly attempting to not cry.

“Goodbye, and thank you.” She repeated back to you.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You did as she said and you left that night. 

You stole a Lannister horse, being sure to remove its colors and saddle from it but that meant you’d have to ride it bare. ‘They hang horse thieves,’ you thought. So you were sure to steal a sword while you at it.

You had been riding quite a long time, didn’t know how long even but you knew the sun had come and gone a few times, and now were quite hungry. You found a nearby inn. You knew that eventually they’d throw their left overs out in the back eventually. 

As you hanged around the back you let your new horse drink from a creek.

“Hello, there.” You heard behind you, you turned around and saw a short and stout boy.

“Hello…” You said with narrow eyes and a furrow brow.

“You want to come in? It’s much warmer inside, there’s ale, water, kidney pie-” You could tell he was a talker and cut him off before he could keep going.

“I don’t have any money.” You shook your head, “Just watering the horse, I’ll be on my way.” You said looking back at your horse.

“Your armor is quite nice, are you a Knight?” The boy continued to question you, 

“Women cannot be knights.” You said not looking back at him.

“What's the bear for?” He asked innocently, 

You thought for a moment, you couldn’t admit who you were, “House Brune of the CrownLands.” 

“Looks like a Mormont sigil.” He said,

You shook your head, “They’re loyal to the traitors from Winterhell.” You were good at lying, but somehow you couldn’t quite say that without your voice wavering.

“It is a Mormont sigil, isn’t it?” He said. You thought you’d been found out by someone loyal to the crown. So naturally you took hold of your sword's handle, “I didn’t mean to offend!” He said, raising his hands. You couldn’t bring yourself to escalate the situation anymore than that. 

You took your hand away from your sword, satisfied he wasn’t a threat. You turned back to the horse once again.“Just let me be on my way.” 

“You’re a long way out from the North.” He said concerned, and you didn’t respond. “You want a hot meal?” He asked kindly.

You looked at him, your eyes a bit softer now. “I told you I don’t have any money.” 

He shrugged, “I am happy to give it.” He looked around to make sure no one else could hear him say whatever he was going to, “Starks need a loyal ally.” You nodded and he went back into the Inn for a few minutes before returning with food wrapped in a cloth.

“Thank you.” You nodded at him as you took the food. 

“What was your name?” 

You thought for a moment, then deciding you could tell him. It was the least you could do. “(Y/N) Mormont.” 

“I knew I was right.” He said with a smile. You smiled back as you ate the pastry.

The two of you talked, or more like he talked at you for some time and you went on your way.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Little did you know that a mere few hours later Podrick and Brienne would be stopping into that very same place.

As Brienne and Podrick sat at a table. She dug into the pie in front of her “A bit of comfort never hurt anyone. We’ve been sleeping in ditches. I think we can treat ourselves with a featherbed for the night and a hot meal not cooked by you.” She said, 

“Couldn’t agree more, my Lady.” Podrick said defeatedly as he drank the ale in his cup.

“Just don’t expect silk underclothes. Not working for your former lord anymore.” 

“Yes, my Lady.” He began to drink even more of his ale,

Brienne took his cup away, “Don’t get drunk,” she snapped at him.

“No, my Lady.” He submitted, 

That very same short and stout boy began talking to Brienne the very same way as he did you.

“That’s nice armor, are you a Knight?” He asked innocently. 

“No.” She was frustrated by the assumption.

“Oh it’s just people with nice armor are usually knights. Generally speaking. Funny enough I saw another Lady in armor, she wasn’t from around here there. From King’s Landing though, aren’t you?” Brienne looked at him with disdain and Podrick looked at him uncomfortably. “From there myself originally, flea bottom born and bred.” He continued, “What brings you to these parts?” 

“We’re looking for someone. A girl, tall, red hair, very pretty. Her name is Sansa Stark.” Brienne got directly to the point. Podrick looked at her empathically, but concerned.

“Stark? What like them lot from Winterhell? Ain't seen anyone like that. Them lot are traitors. No room for traitors in here.” He feigned his loyalty to the crown as he picked himself up and left Brienne and Podrick on their own.

Podrick found it difficult to hear such things about a place you were so loyal to.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ 

As Brienne and Podrick left the inn, Brienne noticed Podrick’s worried look as he readied their horses.

“What?” She asked devoid of any emotion.

“It’s nothing, my lady.” He shook his head, 

“You wouldn’t screw your face up if it was nothing.” 

“Don’t want to offend, my lady. Truly I don’t” 

“You’re not interesting enough to be offensive.” 

“The Lannisters want Lady Sansa. The Lannisters have money. People kill for money. I don’t think that we should be telling people about us trying to find Lady Sansa.”

“My lady, My Lord.” He got the attention of Pod and Brienne, “You seem like a proper lady, someone who can be trusted… I don’t know a Sansa Stark. But I know her sister, Arya.” 

Brienne furrowed her brow, "No one's seen Arya Stark since her father was beheaded. She's presumed dead."

"She weren't when I last spoke to her...heading up north with the Night's Watch. She was all dressed up as a boy...going by the name Arry. "

Her interest peaked, "So what happened to her? The quick version."

"The Lannisters took us prisoner. We escaped. The Brotherhood took us prisoner. They 'sold' me to the innkeep. They were gonna sell Arya to her mother at Riverrun, along with another prisoner: big ugly fellow, foul mouth and a face like a half-burnt ham. Not friendly." He shook his head, 

“Thank you,” Brienne said, 

“You know it’s funny, It’s not everyday you meet a Lady in armor. And it’s not everyday you meet two in one day.” He said, Pod and Brienne losing interest quickly, “And this one was a lot like you too, My Lady. Not very friendly at first,” Brienne looked at him, “Meaning no offense. But once I found out she was a Mormont she was pleasant enough.” Podrick looked at him as if lighten had struck him, Brienne noticed and looked at him strangely, 

“What’d she look like?” He asked, Brienne looking at him even stranger. 

The boy described you, exactly, there was no mistake.

“Did she say where she was going?” Podrick continued to press him uncharacteristically  

“No, my Lord. I asked and she wouldn’t say.” He said, 

Podrick looked defeated and went back to reading the horse, but Brienne kept her eyes on him, curious as to what that meant to him.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

On your long journey you stumbled into a camp, but not any camp. You could tell just by looking at the boys that they were Knights Watch recruits.

This had to have been a sign from the Gods. Safer passage North and saver passage to your father. As you rode up you were eyeballed by all the new recruits, unfamiliar with who you were. 

“Hello pretty girl,” A man said, 

“Bring me, Yoren.” You spoke confidently and coldy. 

“Now is that a sweet way to ask?” The same man asked a shorter man beside him. 

“No, not sweet at all.” The short man said. 

A younger man with short hair behind them spoke up, “She’s wearing Mormont armor.”

You sat up tall on your horse, “My father is Jeor Mormont. I am (Y/N) Mormont. Now bring me Yoren.” You reasserted,

“Yes, My Lady.”  The short man said before rushing to find him. 

Soon enough Yoren was with helding you and dismounting your horse. “Lady Mormont.” He said happily enough for such a grumpy old man. He had known you since you were born.

“Yoren.” You said with a smile,

“What can we offer ye?” His arms crossed and his eyes softened towards you,

You sighed knowing he’d not want what you were going to propose, “I want to go to the wall. To Castle Black.” You nodded.

“Well, I think you know better than anyone that a lady can not join the Knights watch.” He teased,

“I’m not looking to join it. I am looking for my father.” 

His tone shifted slightly to a deeper one, “It’s unusual, and dangerous road, that's for sure.” He sighed and looked down, then back at you, “But your father would bury me deep in the ground if I didn’t.” He smirked, 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Weeks had passed. Pod and Brienne’s journey was taking a hard turn. Everything had gone wrong. 

They’d found Arya like the boy at the Inn said, but when Brienne fought the Hound for Arya they’d lost her. She didn’t want the protection to begin with, the entire thing hurt and frustrated Brienne more than she knew to describe. 

So naturally she took it out on Podrick.

“Will we head North at some point?” Podrick asked about setting up camp, “You said Sansa had a brother at Castle Black. We’re a few days' ride from the kings road. It’ll take us-” 

“Us?” Brienne asked, her voice devoid of all emotion, “The only reason you’re here is because Jaime Lannister told me you weren’t safe in the Capital.” Podrick stood still, unsure of what to do or say, “You’re hundreds of miles from King’s Landing.” She said removing her armor. “No one knows what you look like, no one cares. You’re safe.”

“But I am your squire.” He couldn’t let his opportunity go, to prove himself to himself, and to you.

“Do you even know what a squire is?” She looked at him with a look of contempt. 

“An attendant to a knight?” He looked confused,

“I’m not a knight, that means you’re not a squire.”

“Well where will I go?” 

“I don’t care, I'm not your mother.” She practically spat her words at him,

“You swore to find the Stark girls.” 

“I found Arya. She didn’t want my protection.” 

“Sansa still might.” He attempted to calm her,

“Will you shut your mouth?” She snapped at him, “I didn’t ask for your advice. I don't want you to follow me because I’m not a leader. All I ever wanted was to fight for a lord I believed in. The ones are dead and the rest are monsters.” She scowled as she looked off into the distance and then looked back at Podrick, “And all your lords, they’ve all been so kind to you.” She stood and walked away, “All except me,” She took a breath and looked back at him, “I’m sorry you have to squire such a nasty person.” 

“That girl he talked about in the Inn. I knew her well. She met you once, and couldn't stop talking about you.” He continued to set up camp, “I’m not sorry. You’re the best fighter I’ve ever seen. You beat the hound. I am proud to be your squire.”

She looked at him, “I’m sorry I am always snapping at you.” 

“If you didn’t snap at me I wouldn’t learn anything.” He said with a strange optimism, 

“You want to be a Knight, Pod?” 

He looked at her, his eyes filled with excitement “Yes.” 

She nodded and sat down, pointed to the armor she wanted him to take off of her, “Starting tomorrow, we’ll train with a sword twice a day. Before we ride in the morning and after you make camp in the evening. And I am going to show you how to ride properly.” He finished taking off her armor for her, “I can’t knight you, but I can teach you to fight.” 

“I suppose that’s more important.” He smiled ear to ear. “You weren’t a knight, but you were a Kingsgaurd to Renly Baratheon, weren’t you?” He questioned, genuinely curious. 

“I was.” She said, 

“Lord Tyrion said he was a good man.”

“He was.” You could hear her grief, 

“How did you end up serving Renly?” Podrick asked as he sat beside her. 

Brienne hesitated for a moment but began her story, “When I was a girl my father held a ball. I was his only living child so he wanted to make a good match for me. I didn’t want to go but he dragged me. And I loved it.” Podrick smiled, she reminded him of you. “None of the boys noticed how mulish and tall I was. They shoved each other when they thought it was their turn to dance.” She smiled looking back at her own story, “I’d never been so happy.” Her smile faded, “Till I saw a few of the boys snickering.” Podricks smile faded as well, “And then they all started to laugh, and couldn't keep the game up any longer. Brienne the beauty they called me- great joke. And I realized I was the ugliest girl alive. A great lumbering beast.” You could feel her pain just in her words alone. “I tried to run away but Renly Baratheon took me into his arms. ‘Don’t let them see your tears,’ he told me ‘They’re nasty little shits, and nasty little shits aren’t worth crying over.’” Her smile returned again, “He danced with me and none of the boys could say a word. He was the King's brother after all.” Podrick smiled back, 

“But wasn’t he… Lord Tyrion said that he was,” Podrick asked awkwardly, 

“Yes Pod, he liked men. I am not an idiot. He didn’t love me. He didn’t want me. He danced with me because he was kind.” She explained. 

She looked down, thinking back to the memories she had with him,“Nothings more hateful than failing to protect the one you love.” 

Those words stuck with Podrick,

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

NOTE: Timelines shimelines amiright? 

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[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter II: A Place Uncharted and Overgrown

playlist | masterlist | pinboard | prev

song(s) for this chapter: Careful by Paramore, 365 by Charli XCX, Hardline by Julien Baker (for half a second)

chapter tags: cocky!kinda mean!fboy!eddie, swearing, drinking, drug (weed) use, implied sexual content | fic tags: Angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI

taglist @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle send a message/comment to be added!

a/n: whatever is happening right now, don’t worry. it will get worse!

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog to support the author!

—

Your voice is hoarse by the time you pull into your driveway, surely waking the neighbors as your music leaks through your cracked windows, an angry repetition of YOU CAN’T BE TOO CAREFUL ANYMORE… You do, however, remember to crank it down before leaving your car, something future you will be thankful for.

You flick the light of your bare bones apartment on, glaring at the half your things still sitting in boxes. You keep telling yourself you’ll get to those.

Much to your discouragement, you’ve mostly accepted that Hawkins has swallowed you back into its cold and unforgiving bosom, at least for a while.

You’d left for college, obviously. Escaped to New York with a dream of becoming a published poet, a voice of the new generation. And though school was insightful, challenging, and everything you wanted; it was lonely. Art students are pretentious and judgmental, especially if you come from somewhere like Indiana. So you’d kept your head down and finished school alone, only to move back home with a useless degree, in thousands of dollars of debt, and with a brother in prison.

At least now my brother’s home, you think, trying to assuage the shame spiral. Home and as oblivious as ever, inviting Eddie to the bar.

-

You rise late, sunshine leaking into your second floor bedroom, provoking a groan from deep within your tired gut. Eddie’s here, in Hawkins. It’s been years since you’ve seen him, even longer since you’ve spoken. It leaves you with a lot of nagging questions you’re not sure you want the answers to.

You roll over, wrestling with your sheets tangled around your bare legs. You barely remember coming home, having blacked out the night with a red, angry rage that seems to have subsided with the night. You’re calmer now, almost zen.

Almost, until you remember what you’ve promised tonight. Parties aren’t usually of any concern; a few old friends and maybe a couple college kids with nothing better to do, but you dread it all the same. Eddie used to frequent Steve’s house parties to deal, even after you’d stopped speaking to him. Something about being “easy money,” he’d drunkenly explained to you once. You hope it doesn’t mean he’ll pick up the habit again, but you know deep down how naive that is.

-

“What’s the party even for?” You lean over the kitchen island to steal a chip from the bag, and Steve smacks your hand out of the way.

“Who says there has to be a reason for a party?”

“Anyone who wants to keep their house clean, for one.” Robin sneaks in from behind, snatching a handful of potato chips before Steve can catch her. “And I, for one, never agreed to hosting this party.”

“Co-hosting,” Steve reminds her, “and if you must know, it’s a party for Chris.”

“Didn’t we just have one of those?” You groan, and Robin hands you a chip, as if to apologize.

“Yeah, but that was nothin’. No offense, obviously I love your mom and the bar, but, cmon, you know he wants a rager.”

You really can’t argue with that, so you divert. “And you feel responsible to throw him?”

Steve presses his lips together, unable to combat the question. “We’re friends. Plus, it gives Robin an excuse to see Nance.” The last part is barely audible, but both you and Robin catch it, locking eyes, and she blushes. Nancy Wheeler, the Hawkins Girl Next door. Robin’s been pining over her since senior year of high school, with nothing to show for it.

Robin is harder to say no to than Steve. “Ugh, fine. I have one condition if you want me at this party.

Steve crosses his arms. “Bee, I can’t just not invite him.”

You shrug. “Okay, fine. Have a good time, let me know how it goes.” You grab your coat from the rack for emphasis.

“You’re bluffing.”

“You willing to bet on that?”

“What is your thing with him anyway?” Robin asks between munching on her chips, searching your face for a giveaway. “Like, I know he was there when Chris got cuffed, but is it really his fault your brother got caught?”

You’d never told your friends that Eddie had confessed, testified against your brother. Truthfully, you’d figured they’d find out on their own. You didn’t want to sway their opinions, you’d all been in the same friend group. Even now, you can’t bring yourself to explain the whole thing. “It’s a really, really long story that will kill the mood to tell.”

Steve huffs, hands on his hips. “You know I can’t use that to justify not inviting him.”

“Ugh, fine. But I’m gonna be pissy all night.”

He cracks a smile. “Whatever keeps you entertained, dork.”

-

Steve leaves you in charge of the music, giggling to yourself as you scroll through his playlist titles: Sad Boy Autumn, Night of Clubbin’, Hot Steve Summer. You land on his Party Rock Anthems, and scroll through what Steve believes to be, according to the playlist description, “The Ultimate House Party Jams.” What a fuckin’ dweeb. The first song to play when you shuffle is 365 by Charli XCX and you can't help but burst into laughter. He’s not wrong, of course, but you can’t even slightly believe that Steve has listened to this song, let alone added it to a playlist.

“Great choice!” A voice, light as a bell, rings from behind you, and you turn to greet its owner only to be met face to face with Chrissy Cunningham. The second to last person you’d expect to know this song.

“Oh, yeah,” You stutter, unsure of how to respond. You wouldn’t call yourself a 365 party girl, especially not right now.

“You here with anyone?” Her ponytail swings as she cocks her head to the side, inspecting you.

“Uh, nah, not really. Chris is my brother, this party’s for him.”

“Oh, yeah! You’re Bee, right?”

“To some,” You laugh nervously, hating to be preceded by your brother’s reputation. “And you’re Chrissy, right? I didn’t know you knew him.”

“Oh, I don’t really. I’m here on a date.”

“Who’s your-“

“Hey, baby.” No. God, no fucking way. Eddie seemingly appears from nowhere, sliding his arm around Chrissy’s waist, hand playfully low on her hip. Suddenly, you’re seething, teeth clenched together and you’re convinced you can feel the beginning of a migraine. “What’s got you talkin’ to the wet blanket? Drink not strong enough?” He eyes you, amused by the way your eye twitches.

“Eddie! Be nice, this is Chris’s sister!”

Eddie scoffs at her, head thrown back. “I know, Princess. Tweety and I go way back.”

“I thought you said your name was Bee?”

You shrug. “It’s one of ‘em. Tweety, however, is not.” Not anymore, but you don’t add that part out loud.

“Whatever. C’mon, let me introduce you to the other, way less sexy Chris.” And without another glance your way, Eddie takes his girl into the backyard.

“Fuckin’ asshole.” You mutter, adding another, much less fun song to the queue.

“Okay, enough moping!” Robin snatches your phone from you just as Julien Baker’s voice starts in, quickly switching it back to Steve’s clubbing playlist. “C’mon, let’s go dance!”

“Only if I can get another drink first.” Your rum and coke is gone, and you’re feeling far too sober to be in the same room as Eddie, let alone his date. The thought sends chills of what you can only assume are disgust up your spine. Poor Chrissy, Eddie must have charmed her into going out with him, how else do you explain that couple? What lies did he tell her to convince her he’s a decent enough guy?

“Hey, stop seething, I can see the foam about to come out of your mouth.” Robin snaps you out of seeing red, handing you a hard cider that you pout at. “I wanted a dirty shirley.”

“And I want you alive in the morning to help me clean this place up. As the host, I win by default.”

You huff dramatically, but take the can anyway. “Can you believe Eddie convinced Chrissy to come here with him?”

Robin only shrugs. “He’s not a bad guy, Beebs. I think deep down, you know that.”

You bite your tongue. It is not your place. Your personal grievances are not your friends’ problems. “Maybe, but they’re so different.”

Robin shrugs. “It was either Chrissy or—“ She cuts herself off abruptly, and when you try to meet her eyes she averts them.

“Or who, Rob?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing, never mind. Hey, look! Your brother’s here!”

You cock an eyebrow at her, but she’s not budging, pointing towards the entryway where your brother is being greeted in all directions. Someone hands him a beer, while another friend sparks a joint before passing it to him. It amazes you how loved your brother is after the hell he raises, and people barely register you exist, let alone that you’re his sister.

“Hey, kiddos!” Chris breaks away from his mob of fans to greet you and Robin, embracing you both in a group hug. Luckily, your brother doesn’t give a shit about how cool the rest of Hawkins thinks you are. He offers a hand out to Steve behind you. “Thank you for putting all this together, man. Means a lot.” Robin opens her mouth to argue, but closes it when Chris looks at her. “And thank you for letting him destroy your place for the night. I’ll help you with the damage in the morning.” He winks at Robin, who gives him the biggest toothy smile possible.

“Chris, man, you comin’ out? We’re playin’ beer pong.” One of Chris’s buddies, Gareth, offers him the tiny plastic ball.

“Oh, fuck yeah, man. But only if you’re on my team, I'm not losing to you and Eds at my own party.”

-

It’s three rounds before Chris and Steve convince you to play, Gareth having tapped out for the night to puke in the bushes. Eddie snickers to his cronies as you approach the table, sliding your windbreaker from your arms. For some reason, the exposure of your skin shuts him up, and you flex your fingers dramatically before plucking the ball from Steve’s hand. “You’re goin’ down, Sweetheart.” Eddie jabs his ringed pointer finger at you, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

He seems to notice his slip up, clearing his throat dramatically. “You gonna play, or what?”

You blink once, twice before nodding, suddenly feeling the effects of your earlier drinks. Have you eaten tonight?

You aim as well as your body allows, managing to sink the ball into the back corner cup. Your friends cheer, high diving each other before each extending a hand to you, and Eddie groans, removing the plastic before downing the cup and removing it from the lineup. “Beginner’s luck.”

“Oh, please!” Robin scolds from beside you. “Ballsy for someone to say after losing two out of the last three.” The small crowd of gathered acquaintances chuckle, earning a weak glare from a very intoxicated Eddie before he sets up his shot, effortlessly dropping the ball into the center cup. You begrudgingly remove it, chugging the lukewarm beer while your friends cheer and boo, all in good fun.

It mostly continues like that, a neck and neck game between your team consisting of you, Chris, and Steve against Eddie, Jeff, and a very giggly Chrissy. By the end, the backyard is on a tilted axis, and only one cup remains in front of either team.

“You ready to tap yet?” Eddie taunts, though he’s been leaning over the table for the last couple rounds, arms bracing him from falling to the ground.

“You wish, Munson.” And you let it fly, but your face falls when you realize you’d been too cocky, too soon. It bounces higher than you’d anticipated, sailing right over the cup and onto the ground, everyone’s eyes glued to it. “Fuck.” Robin snickers and you snap your head to glare at her. “Thank you for that vote of confidence.” You sneer, and she stifles another giggle fit.

“This is it, honey, for all the marbles.” You think he’s talking to Chrissy until he winks directly at you, the corner of his mouth pinching into a smirk. You look from him to his date to find her pouting, eyebrows scrunched together and arms crossed. You raise an eyebrow, unsure how to reassure the former cheerleader.

While you’re not looking, Eddie sinks the ball. Which, let’s be honest, you knew that was coming. You roll your eyes and lift the piss flavored drink to your lips, chugging with an open throat to avoid tasting it. Your friends and brother cheer you on, and when you slam the solo cup onto the table, you let out a massive belch. Eddie’s grin has split into a toothy beam, eyes wide with wonder, penetrating your very soul. Fuckin’ weirdo.

-

When your dizziness has subsided, you find Robin on the makeshift dance floor, a drink dangerously spilling over in her hand. “Hey, grouchy!” She calls you over, beckoning with her dance moves. You play along, pretending to be roped in by her lasso. “What’s got you all frowny now?”

You shrug, shaking your hips to a song you can’t place, trying to enjoy your buzz now that you’re not seeing double. “Guess I’m taking beer pong too seriously.”

Robin snorts. “Please, when have you ever given a shit about stupid drinking games?”

“I guess since Chris is home. Wanted to impress him.” Robin eyes you, biting her lip. “What?” You pry, and when she doesn’t answer, poke her in the ribs. “Cmon, spit it out.”

“I don’t think it was Chris you were trying to impress.” She winces, awaiting an outburst that doesn’t come. Instead, you reply with a monotone “Excuse me?”

She smiles tensely, all teeth and gums. “Sorry, I call em like I see em.” Robin’s eyes slide past you, landing over your shoulder. When you snap your head to find what she’s looking at, your eyes fall on Eddie, a beer forgotten in his hand as he whispers in Chrissy’s ear. He must be hilarious, because she can’t stop fucking laughing.

“Oh, you can’t be serious. You think I'm worried about what Munson has to say about me?”

She refocuses on your face, brows furrowed. “Maybe not what he has to say, but definitely what he thinks.” You gape at her, unable to respond with something clever. She only pats your shoulder. “It’s alright, you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

-

“Okay, everyone out. You don’t have to go home, but ya can’t stay here.” Steve is waving people out the door, thanking them for destroying his and Robin’s apartment with a tired smile on his face. Finally, shuts the door. “That everyone?”

“Uh, no. We have some stragglers.”

Steve looks around the main room, then the kitchen. “Where?”

Robin juts her thumb to Steve’s bedroom. “Sorry, man.” You stifle a giggle with a cough, throwing another beer can into the recycling bin.

“Every damn time!” Steve stomps up to the door and starts banging. “Hey, party’s over. Put your pants back on!” He throws his bedroom door open, and you and Robin peer over his shoulders like nosy children.

“Whoa!” The larger figure scrambles, throwing the duvet over their head, while the smaller one shrieks, covering her face as Steve flicks the light on.

“Oh, come on. Eddie?”

“Hi, Stevie.” He slowly emerges from the blanket. “Funny running into you here.”

“It’s my room, idiot! Get out!”

“Okay, okay! Shit, I thought you wanted my help cleaning this shithole tomorrow!”

Steve huffs. “Doesn’t mean you can occupy my room and soil my sheets like this.”

Eddie gasps in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I’m very clean, just had all my shots.” Steve only glares, but he gets the message across. “Okay! Damn. Sorry, Chrissy. I’ll call you, yeah?”

The girl rolls her eyes, face still cherry red. “Whatever, Eddie.” She snatches her shirt off the ground, and Steve turns to give her privacy. “Sorry, Steve. He said it was okay.” She avoids your eyes as she leaves, Eddie waving goofily behind her. Something in your chest hurts, and you chock it up to rage.

“You want sloppy seconds, Bee?”

You ignore him, and make your way back to the kitchen to rage clean. Over your shoulder, you hear your brother exclaims something, but you can’t make it out.

-

[piscespetals]

summary: in which sevika becomes your roommate. read part two here

content: this fic is 4-5 chapters long. i'm still trying to figure out if i should condense it to 4 or keep it at five. mostly gay pinning, fluff, angst and small slivers of smut (not very good at smut writing but i'm trying)

word count: 5k

thanks for reading!

Chapter One

It all started when your best friend told you she was moving out…

You both shared a flat, and for the last near decade or so, everything had relatively been good.

Until it wasn't.

“I know it's kind of bittersweet but,” Mel shrugs, looking down at the ice cream cone in her hand. Remnants of the vanilla treat gather above her top lip. You almost say something but she licks it away with one clean swipe of her tongue. “Alicia has been talking about this for almost a year. And I think it's time we take the next step.”

Alicia is Mel’s long-term girlfriend. Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. It's a miracle that they haven't already moved in together considering how long they’ve been in each other’s lives. You should be happy for them. You really should. But a part of you keeps thinking about the upcoming renewal of the lease and the empty space that’ll fill up Mel’s side of the apartment once she leaves.

The two of you have been living together for a huge chunk of your adulthood. Honestly, the thought of returning home to Mel has been your norm for almost as long as you’ve been filing tax returns.

And now—she’s moving.

Leaving.

Just like that.

“Oh,” She croons. Her ice cream cone nearly falls as she scooches closer to you. “Don't cry.”

Your tears drip down your cheeks before trailing the slope of your jaw.

You aren’t surprised. This reaction is warranted. You aren't good at goodbyes.

Actually, no—this isn't quite a goodbye.

But it sure as hell feels just as painful.

There's not enough breathing exercises that’ll prepare you for the life transition that's doomed to happen. A chapter of your adulthood is closing right before your eyes. Mel will move out, marry Alicia, and have annoyingly cute babies. You’ll be the designated bestfriend–turned–aunt that will always feel stuck; left behind. 

It will be horrible.

“Nothing will change,” Mel comforts. She tries to multitask the art of devouring her ice cream while slinging her free arm around you. Her bubbling optimism is nearly comedic compared to your wallowing spirits.

“Everything will change!” Your voice cracks, body jerking as your lungs cause you to inhale sharp uneven gasps. “You've replaced me with Alicia as your roommate. Is she asking for the best friend title too?”

“Oh god—babe,” Another lick of her ice cream. She's trying to contain her laughter. The nerve of her! “I’ll always be your best friend. You know that.” She squeezes your shoulder. “Everything will be okay. I promise.”

Your eyes burn more and another melodramatic wail leaves you.

The image of you–old and decrepit–in a nursing home comes to fruition. You're in the bed, smelly and miserable, while Alicia and Mel stand before you. They're old too, but far more beautiful. Far more accomplished. Less lonely. Still married. Still happy. 

Oh, and their kids are probably there in the room too; asking Mel why “their Aunt hasn't been properly groomed?”

Mel is absolutely wrong.

Everything will certainly not be okay. 

After a few days of sulking, you have a change of heart when Mel says, “I think I’ve found you a new roommate.”

Suddenly, the imminent doom of Mel moving out doesn’t seem so harrowing. Of course it still saddens you–she’s your best friend after all–but you’re no longer burdened with the stress of trying to find her replacement. 

You and Mel butt heads about a ton of senseless things, but she never disappoints you on the most important matters. 

So if she thinks that someone is suitable enough to be your roommate, then you have hope that she’s right. 

“Who?” Your head snaps up as you look at her. She stands on the other side of the kitchen island, elbows leaning against the wooden countertop and chin resting in her palms. You were mopping the floor–a truly rare occurrence for you–when Mel came out of her room to announce the good news. 

“You know how Alicia goes out with her teammates every now and then?” 

Your memory travels to the brief conversations of Mel mentioning this in the past. Alicia used to be a college athlete during her undergrad. Apparently, she still has a budding relationship with a few of her old teammates, and likes to go to dinners with them to catch up every few months. 

“Well,” Mel continues. “Her friend, Sevika, hasn’t been able to come to the dinners these last few years because she lived up north for a while. But she’s back in town. And I guess she doesn’t like the place she’s at. Apparently, it’s too close to the city. Too hectic. She’s been looking at places in our neighborhood. And when Alicia mentioned it to me, I just figured...”

You nod slowly in understanding, “Oh.”

“I mean, it’s kind of working out perfectly…rather coincidental but I just thought it would make you feel better if your next roommate wasn’t a complete stranger.”

“Do you know her well?”

“I’ve hung out with Sevika countless times before she moved away.” The brown irises of Mel’s eyes become distant; as if she’s drifting off to another time. “God, that feels like so long ago somehow... But I think you’d like her.” Her lips pull into a small smile. “She seems a bit remote at first but it’s all fun and games. I promise.”

“Okay,” You shake your head, trying to wrap your brain around it all. “And you’re sure that she’s–I mean, not that I don’t trust your word. I’m just nervous, I suppose. She isn’t like–”

“Sevika’s good people,” Mel laughs, gazing at you with understanding. “But I get it. So here’s what I was thinking… We can host a brunch and invite her over? That way you can meet her formally and get to know her. Maybe show her around the place? As much as I want this to pan out great, it’s still your decision to make at the end of the day.” She pauses a few beats, trying to gauge your reaction. “What do you think?”

Your hands fiddle with the top of the swiffer handle as you weigh your options. You had put together a more elaborate and time consuming plan prior to today; which would have consisted of flyers and roommate interviews and even Facebook posts. Of course, posting to Facebook would have been the last resort; an addition to the plan that you only added out of mere desperation. But it was a plan nonetheless.

Mel’s offer is more tempting. 

“Okay,” You sigh, squeezing the handle of the swiffer. “But if this doesn’t work out, then you owe me ice cream.”

She beams, clapping her hands together excitedly. 

“And not the cheap kind,” You add. “I’m talking Cold Stone.”

Mel doesn’t appear to be fazed. Instead, she turns on her heels, making her way back to her room. “I’m gonna call Alicia and let her know!” The exclamation has a song-like lilt to it; a clear indication of her delight.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting off a grin while you carry the swiffer to the trash can.

Your thumb absentmindedly plays with the stringy bracelet decorating your right wrist; a gift that Mel gave you over ten years ago when the two of you first became friends. It’s nearly falling apart now, but still a staple piece in your daily attire. You find yourself looming over the possible outcome of tonight’s gathering–for the ‘nth time–as your stomach stirs with unease. 

It’s not like you haven’t been obsessively ruminating over this very evening. It’s all you’ve been able to think about ever since Mel helped you plan it last week. But despite all of the preparation, your mouth still remains dry.

You’re seated at the dining table, with Mel to your right and Alicia right across from her. Sevika faces you directly, which is a circumstance you tried to desperately avoid upon Mel’s suggestion.

“How do you guys like the food?” Mel asks. “I can proudly say that I’ve managed to keep the kitchen intact while I was preparing it.”

Alicia’s eyes twinkle when she glances at her girlfriend. “It’s good, honey. Thank you.”

A pair of alert grey irises flicker to you: Sevika’s. 

The woman studies you with a gaze that is piercing and direct. She takes you in fully–something that she’s been doing all night–which makes you feel as if you’re under inspection. You can’t decide whether or not you like that about her.

“It was nice, Mel.” You reply. You wolfed down your food the minute your plate was served. So now you’re just awkwardly waiting for everyone else to finish their meal.

You usually don’t eat so quickly, but the task gave you something else to distract yourself with, rather than Sevika’s scrutiny. 

But despite doing everything possible to avoid her stare, you can’t help but notice the calm and leisure way she eats her food. From what you’ve gathered, she doesn’t seem fond of mixing meals with conversation. But there’s still a pleasant way that she dines. 

The oscillation of her jaw, especially with every chew, is a trait that you find particularly distracting…

“So, are you enjoying your return to town?” Mel inquires, turning to Sevika. She’s always had the talent of conversing with the least willing. 

It takes a few seconds for Sevika to shift her gaze away from you.

You feel your muscles relax when she does.

“Yeah, it’s been good,” Sevika’s voice adopts an amiable timbre; a pattern you’ve picked up on every time she addresses Mel. “The traffic sucks on the east side, but that's nothing new.”

Mel hums in understanding. “Well, I think you’ll like it here.The people are quieter. Life is slower.” 

That’s when Alicia takes that as her cue to wrap her arm around Sevika’s shoulder. They’re both nearly the same height, only Alicia is leaner. 

“It’s good that you’re back home,” Alicia butts in. “You’re getting wrinkles. You’ve been frowning too much.”

Sevika rolls her eyes. “I’ve been perfectly fine.”

“Is that so? I heard…”

You’re ripped from their conversation when Mel wraps her fingers around your bicep. She leans into your ear, whispering, “Let’s go to the kitchen.” 

You follow her without question.

It’s not until you’re grabbing the fruit salad out of the refrigerator when she says, “How are you liking her so far?”

You bite the inside of your cheek while carrying the dessert to the counter. 

“I don’t know.” You try to sort through your feelings to find some sort of opinion–anything–that can help you identify your stance. But it’s to no avail. “She’s a bit intense, don’t you think?” 

“Well,” Mel snickers. “I suppose.”

You glance up at her, noticing the way that she’s covering her smile with her hand. She flutters her eyelashes coyly, “But is that not a good thing? You’ve been staring at her all evening.” She continues, wiggling her eyebrow.

“Please don’t.”

“What? I’m just saying…”

“There’s nothing that needs to be said.”

“...the tension has been palpable ever since you laid eyes on her. You don’t have to make it into a bad thing, babe. You both are grown adults here.” 

Your jaw is clenching when you mutter, “Well, you're off-base on this one.”

You think you hear her laugh again, but you don’t have the energy to entertain it. Instead, you turn around and march back to the dining room.

Your eyes are slightly droopy from the combination of wine and dinner that sloshes in your belly.

Under the haze of the ceiling lamps, you stand with your arms folded across your chest.

“This would be your room,” You’re mumbling. Sevika hums beside you, only a few feet away. She’s so far yet so close. Too close.

Yet not close enough.

You feel silly for thinking such thoughts. 

It must be the wine.

The floorboards creak underneath her weight as she inspects the room. It has a fair amount of space in it. It’s larger than your room for sure. The connecting bathroom is smaller than yours though–a bargain that you and Mel made over a decade ago.

Sevika travels to a nearby wall, inspecting the paint job for a few seconds before peering at you.

Despite the warmth emanating from the heating system, a cool shiver runs through you. 

Your voice dips with humor when you explain that, “Mel painted it a while back.”

You examine the way she pushes her tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of her nose. A vein from her right forearm flexes due to the movement. 

She smiles, poised and reposeful. 

“Figures,” That’s when you notice the fullness of her lips—her prominent cupid's bow, and how well they look when spread into a grin like that.

She stretches her arms above her head, back arching as she seemingly holds back a yawn. You fight the urge to do the same, eyes trailing over her physique before you can stop yourself. Sevika looks strong–really strong. Her arms are thick bands of pure muscle and her broad shoulders barely concave from the movement.

She’s wearing a long-sleeved button up, which has a toffee silk-like material. You don’t realize how low her black slacks are sitting on her hips until the hem of her shirt rises. A happy trail peaks through, as well as deeply grooved muscles. 

The sight feels sacrilegious and simultaneously pious. Your eyelids are heavy, droopy, when her muscles relax and her arms fall to her sides. You draw your attention back to her face. She’s caught you, eyebrows lifted and lips pursed to the side–an attempt to mask her amusement? You don’t know. Or at least, you don’t want to. 

With the sudden pounding of your heart, you gesture behind you, “I can show you the laundry room?” Your desire to escape has never felt so prominent until then.

You're beginning to realize that she makes it hard for you to breathe when you’re around her.

Laughter rings in the air between everyone–Sevika, you, Alicia and Mel–while Alicia tells a funny story about a customer she had a few days prior. You’re wearing one of your nighttime sweaters now, a glass of wine in your hand, while all of you sit in the living room. 

Sevika cards her hand through her hair. It’s no longer in its bun, meeting the sides of her face with buoyancy. The length is much longer than you initially thought, stopping a few inches below her neck; a feathery cut that frames her face quite perfectly.

She sits with her legs parted, left arm resting along the back of the couch. Her fingers lay a few inches from your right shoulder. With a mere flex of her hand, she’d be able to touch you. 

Amidst the ring of Alicia’s voice–she’s going into detail about another story now–you turn to Sevika and ask, “Are you a heavy sleeper?”

You receive a better angle of her chiseled jaw when she tilts her head, expression contemplative while she thinks of an answer. You aren’t sure why it takes her so long since it’s not necessarily a loaded question to ask, but still—you allow her to think.

“Not really,” Her eyes dart back to you. “Is that a deal breaker?”

“I'm not sure,” You blink through a daze, overcome with an unexpected wave of tranquility due to her regard. “I listen to music sometimes in the middle of the night. It helps with my insomnia.”

“...Well, is it loud?”

“Not all the time. But you may hear it faintly.”

A nod. “Then that’s fine with me.”

You swivel the wine in your hand, “Besides going out for work, a lot of my hobbies consist of me being at home. You’ll probably see me a lot.”

“Not a problem.”

“I’m not incredibly messy or dirty but…” Your palms sweat from the loose confession. “I’m not a neat freak. And I don't like mornings. I'm really grumpy any hour before 11. Like—I will not speak if I can avoid it. And I’m a terrible cook.”

She looks away from you momentarily, lips rubbing together as her hand flexes. You grow rigid at the motion; she’s only inches away from coming in contact with your shoulder. Then her fingers relax. She looks back at you. Her lips part, “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Depends. Is it working?”

Her left eyebrow twitches. “You call the shots. If you don't think it’ll work, I can look into renting somewhere else.”

“I'm just trying to be transparent with you as much as possible.” 

You don't want any surprises. The last thing you need is the false hope of thinking this will work just to ultimately have the infamous roommate disagreements that you've heard too much about. 

You got lucky with Mel. 

For 13 years, you’ve managed to have the best roommate dynamic. But now she's leaving soon. And you fear that those 13 years have just been a fluke.

If Sevika is truly serious about moving in, you need to make sure that it'll be a right fit.

“Do you have any kids?” You find yourself asking.

She lets out a gusty breath; a dry chuckle mixed with a hint of disbelief. For a second, you fear that you've offended her.

But then she's replying, “God no.” She grins with her head slightly shaking. You swear she leans a few inches closer as she adds, “Do you?”

You blink. You swallow. You try to not get distracted by the swirling grey of her irises. They're quite pretty. Too pretty. Unbelievably pretty.

“Definitely not.” 

Her grin widens, “Okay, so we at least have that in common.” She allows her eyes to flicker to other features of your face; your eyebrows, then your cheeks, then your nose. “Are there any other incriminating questions that you have?”

“Of course.”

She laughs again and her eyes fall shut. There's a part of you that wants to draw closer to her at that moment. But you remain where you are; as if you’re resisting the tug of a rope. 

“Okay,” She mutters, voice a gentle hum while her lips remain pulled into a grin. 

“Does that annoy you?” You find yourself asking. It’s a silent test. You want to know if this will turn her away. Is she willing to answer your long list of questions? And if she is–will you find something about her that you don’t like? 

“No, I don’t mind at all.” Her eyes flutter open slowly, blazing a stormy grey when they land on you. “Ask however many questions you need.” 

Her hand flexes once more. This time you feel it. It’s the slightest graze, and too fleeting for it to feel real. The tip of her forefingers brush against the material of your shirt, at the very top of your bicep, before she’s running her hand through her hair. It could have been an accident–a mere sweep due to her close proximity–but you guess you’d never truly know.  

Your breathing falters. She blinks at you with a placid expression, seemingly unfazed. 

“Okay,” You clear your throat, shifting your weight restlessly. You try to put more distance between you two by subtly scooting a few inches to your left.

“...Going to get some more wine. Be right back!’ Mel calls. 

The bubble around you and Sevika bursts.

You’re submerged into the sound of the TV playing an Old Navy commercial. Alicia stares at the screen with droopy eyes, feet propped up in the recliner chair and hands clasped together as they rest on her stomach. She hums lazily at Mel’s announcement. Faintly, you begin to hear Mel rummaging through the kitchen: the clanging of silverware, the rush of running water, then the thump! of a closing cupboard. The calming livelihood of Mel and Alicia’s existence buzzes around you. But you somehow find yourself turning back towards Sevika because, although you don't want to admit it, she’s a new enigma that’s hurdled into your life. 

She beholds you with remarkable patience, elbow now resting against the back of the couch as she cradles her temple with her hand. 

“So…” She says, voice laced with an expectation. She’s waiting on you.

“Right,” You nod. You shake your head in an attempt to clear the brain fog. Must be the alcohol... "Do you smoke?”

Sevika does smoke; she has a preference for cigars. 

She’s a tattoo artist, which you never pinned her for. But after a few seconds of contemplation, it makes sense. She tells you that it’s been her career for a long time now.

She’s quite the morning person and a bit meticulous about her living environment. She likes to cook and happily divulges in burning incense. She doesn't have very many friends, but the ones she does have are practically her family—who, she assures with an unwavering gaze, are people that, “You will love.”

She doesn't watch much television, but she does have a knack for sports. “I like to have my friends over on game days,” She admits, sending you a sidelong glance. “Would that be something you're okay with?”

Not much time passes before you're nodding your head yes.

Sevika has no siblings and no parents. Her parents passed away a while back–a fact that you seemed more saddened by than her–and left her their house, which is why she moved out of town a few years ago.

When you ask her why she’s decided to return, she doesn't answer. 

It’s your only question that makes her come to a full stop.

When the night ends and she’s getting ready to leave the apartment with Alicia quickly behind her, it’s the only question that's lingering in your mind.

And after Mel closes the door, bolts it shut and asks, “Any red flags from Sevika?”

It’s the sole reason why you find yourself hesitating, wanting—for some strange reason—to tell Mel yes. Even though every fiber of your being knows that the true answer is no.

Sevika’s vehicle is exactly the sort of car you’d picture her in. A sleek black Ram 1500 sits in front of you. Your eyes are wandering. You can't help it. You don't want to make it into a thing. It's only a truck after all…

But you've always admired cars, especially the big shiny ones.

 “I would have showed you this days ago had I known you’d be so pleased,” Sevika muses. That's when you draw your attention back to her. "I didn't know you liked cars so much."

She's gazing at you with the smallest form of a smirk on her face. You want to wipe it off; you feel vulnerable somehow. Exposed.

You blink wordlessly, breath shallowing and palms clamming up. 

How is she so infuriatingly good looking? 

Then, as if you've suddenly become aware of everything else about her, you're taking the rest of her body into account. Her bulging biceps are flexed due to the moving box in her arms. Small beads of sweat collect at the base of her neck…some sliding into the dips of her collarbones. Her hair is pulled into a low bun, highlighting the clenching of her jaw as she chews her gum; minty breath wafting towards you. Your stomach dips. 

“Shut up,” You mutter.

Her grin widens. She laughs. You struggle to suppress one yourself. 

She doesn't say anything else.

You stand awkwardly by her truck as she turns to walk into the apartment. 

A part of you doesn't know what to make of this. Here you are, moving a woman that you've just met into your apartment, with no idea of how this will turn out.

You feel like you're floundering through life. Surely, everyone else your age is settled down with a family and a secure living environment—not stressing over the prospect of a new roommate. This situation feels too…juvenile. It would make sense for a younger version of yourself to be facing roommate insecurity. It would make sense for your younger self to grow uncharacteristically flustered and perturbed around someone like Sevika.

But not now. No—certainly not now.

The sound of Sevika’s footsteps pull you from your reverie. When you glance in her direction, the first thing you notice is the quirk of her eyebrows. You shift your weight, wringing your hands as you work up the courage to say, “I can help,” You clear your throat. “If you want.”

She’s in the middle of grabbing another box from her car but stops mid-reach from the sound of your offer. She cranes her neck, lines appearing in her forehead as she mutters, “I’m good.”

You take offense to that. Does she think you're weak? That you're not strong enough to carry a few stupid boxes? Or worse—has she already found a reason to dislike you?

Goosebumps trail up your back.

“I’m strong enough, you know.” You find yourself tilting your chin up defiantly. 

“Is that so?”

“I may not be ripped like you,” You fold your arms across your chest and you hear a snort. A fucking snort! “But I don't pay for pilates classes for nothing."

That's when she stands upright, two stacked boxes now in her arms. She manages to rest them on her left hip, closing the back door in one swift motion.

"Yeah?" Then she’s tilting her head slightly, appraising you with an expression that nearly sets you on fire. "You think I'm strong?"

The world around you spins and you're nearly knocked off balance.

There's a part of your spirit that uncurls. Heat plants a seed in your gut then burns, burns, burns.

Perspiration has gathered at the base of your neck, and one bead of sweat drips down the slope of your spine. Then another. You're scowling at her, a reaction that she seems to enjoy, when you feel the drip of one more.

She takes your silence without question. Her irises trail down to your crossed arms then back up to your face before continuing. “You don't have to lift a single one of those pretty fingers for me.” Then you feel her warmth—her touch—at the tip of your chin. It's a small brush with her index finger, yet strong enough to tilt your head before she's pulling away. Then she's grabbing the boxes with both of her hands, snickering under her breath while adding, “But since you seem like the adamant type—be my guest, darling.”

Your legs tremble when she brushes past you.

For the rest of the evening, you allow her to settle into the apartment without your help.

“Sevika?” Your voice is scratchy from lack of use. “Can you help me?”

You're frustrated because you can't find your favorite mug. The entire kitchen is spotless—a sort of clean you haven't seen in ages. You're grateful for Sevika—truly, you are. But due to how organized it all is, you now have difficulty locating everything. The way she cleans and sorts through the apartment is completely different from your way. 

Irritated, you call her name again. But no answer.

You know that she’s in her room because her door is closed. It’s only been a few days since she’s moved in but you’ve started to notice that she likes to leave it open when she's not in there. 

You sigh, storming to her room. You have a taste for tea, something you've been craving all morning. And now that you've finally finished your work, you’d been so excited to drink it. 

But now you're completely turned about by the state of the kitchen. Nothing is where you usually keep it.

“Sevika!” You practically bark, voice growing thin. “Are you awake?”

You're about to knock on her door—a disturbance that would surely wake her if she's in a deep slumber—but then it flies open. And there she stands, wearing a pair of boxers and a tank top. She appears to have just showered, hair seemingly damp and towel in her hand. That familiar woodsy scent of hers hits you like a tide wave, but this time it’s tenfold stronger than what it usually is.

“Is there a reason why you're shouting my name at 10 AM?”

You swallow thickly. Your mouth has suddenly become dry. “I can't find the mugs.”

Sevika blinks slowly then mutters, “What?”

“The mugs. They're a type of cup, cylindrical in size? Often used to drink things like coffee, tea, hot ch-”

“They're in the cupboard by the refrigerator.”

“...”

“...”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Why are they in there? I’ve never put them there before.”

“You could barely reach the cupboard they were originally in—”

“That's why I have a stepping stool!”

“So I figured it would be easier if they were moved to one that's more accessible for you. I told you about this Tuesday. Do you not remember?”

“...You never told me that.”

“Yes,” Her jaw grinds. “I did. You were talking to Mel on facetime and nearly ate shit when grabbing that awfully gaudy mug you like,” Oh. “So I told you that I would move it to the cupboard by the refrigerator,” Oh. “And you looked me right in the eye, smiled and said you thought that was a great idea.” Fuck. “...Do you not remember that?”

That’s right.

You did say that.

Your heartbeat skips from the piercing silence.

God, she's going to think you're crazy now.

Sevika sighs. 

Shoving down a mountain of guilt, you shift your weight, “I’m sorry. I don't think I actually processed that conversation when it happened.”

She isn't quick to reply, and you're not sure where to go from there. So you add, “Um, would you like some tea?”

As a peace offering, you make Sevika a cup of tea the next morning too.

The third day is when you have to go back to work, so you force yourself awake earlier than you want. There's still a small chip of guilt weighing on your shoulders that morning, so you fix Sevika a cup of tea again.

You also do it for that following morning because it's Saturday. Who wouldn't want tea on Saturday?

Sunday is a lazy day for Sevika. But somehow she's already in the kitchen when you stumble in at a harrowing 8am. She's waiting for the toaster oven to sound when you pull two mugs out of the cupboard. Even after the appliance dings, she lingers with you in the kitchen, silently eating her toast while you prepare the kettle. Ten minutes later, she’s drinking her tea while her elbows lean against the island counter. 

You hold onto your mug tightly and listen to the chirping of the birds in the distance. The only other sound that is audible are her even breaths. 

You don't know how you've settled into such a routine after 8 days of living with her. But somehow, standing in the middle of the kitchen together with nothing but comfortable silence, you think that you’ve found the oasis of serenity.

[back2bluesidex]

Where Do Broken Hearts Go (18+) - Masterpost

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, drama, eventual smut, fluff. 

Warnings: mentions of infidelity, mentions of cheating, broken relationship, reader is suffering so bad, pining, more will be added to each part. 

Word count: will be mentioned in each part. 476 for the prologue.

Listened to: Where Do Broken Hearts Go by One Direction

Taglist requests are closed!

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: First of all, Happy birthday to Jungkook. Secondly, I finally grew enough balls to start another legit series after a damn year. And obviously it had to be angst. Hope you guys like this attempt of mine.

Disclaimers: Pictures are taken from Pinterest.

Chapters:- 

Prologue || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

Drabbles: Daydream, Incognito

Prologue under cut

“No. No. This is not true. This is not true.” Your murmur under your breath. Clenching your phone hard, you try to keep your breathing stable. 

“Calvin Kline Ambassador Jeon Jungkook is rumored to be dating actress Han Jiwon.” you read the headline again and then dive into the article. It explains how your boyfriend had been seen leaving his hotel with one of the most popular actresses of the industry. 

There is no mistake, it is Jungkook indeed. You would recognize his bunny features even in your deep sleep, no matter how many hats and masks he uses to conceal his identity. In the picture, he is tightly grasping the hands of the actress as both of them are caught by the camera. 

The picture was probably taken last month during Jungkook’s overseas schedule. He didn’t mention having a “friend” over there. He never mentioned anything about meeting Jiwon there. But again, he hardly ever mentions anything anymore. 

You put your phone upside down. Inhaling a deep breath, you shut your eyes. 

Your body feels heavy, your heart twists in a fear of uncovering a truth that will leave you broken, will leave you stranded on a lonely island all by yourself. 

You knew he was changing, you knew he was drifting apart, you know he doesn’t look at you with the same glint in his eyes. You know it all and yet you kept your fingers crossed. 

A tear rolls down your cheek and you gulp the lump that formed in your throat overtime. 

The door lock chimes in signaling someone has just punched the key-code. You know who it is but you stay in your place, eyes closed. 

Soft thud of foot-steps echo in your otherwise silent apartment. You still don’t budge. 

He slowly walks closer to your body, stands right beside you, and places a hand on your shoulder. 

“It is not what you think it is, Y/N” Jungkook speaks with a barely audible voice. 

“I know.” you reply while standing up from your seat. 

“I didn’t cheat.” he explains again. 

You come face to face with him. His face bears no sign of discomfort, pain or guilt. It’s just… blank. His eyes are so blank that you think he is actually sorry for not cheating on you. 

“I know.” you offer again. Walking forward towards your boyfriend, you wrap him in your embrace but… he doesn’t hug you back immediately. 

When he places his hands flat on your back, not totally wrapping you up the way he used to, you know it. You know it’s gone. 

The familiarity of his warmth, his scent, the feeling of being home, is gone. Even if your body is touching his, you know he is actually miles and miles away from you. And you have doubts if he is ever going to return or not.

--

Taglist:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel

[fleckficgirl]

Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 14

Summary: Attempting to conceal her checkered past, a young dancer in Gotham (Y/N) lands a job at Ha-Ha’s and finds herself increasingly drawn to a shy, lonely clown named Arthur Fleck.

Warnings: sex, age gap, language, violence, mental illness, assault

Word Count: 3438

Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Wayne Manor stood on a huge, sprawling estate. Living in Gotham made it easy to forget that places like this existed in the world. The trees were greener. The streets were so clean, they almost sparkled. There were no sirens, no smell of rotting garbage, no hunched over zombies stumbling in the streets. This part of Long Island was like a little eden - a heaven on earth carved out and carefully guarded by the ultra wealthy. 

“This is it,” you breathed as you and Arthur approached the gates. Fortunately, there were no angry dobermans prowling about the grounds today. Only freshly-trimmed grass and the towering mansion in the distance. You wondered if anyone was even home. 

Suddenly, Arthur froze in his tracks. “Y/N?” 

“Yeah?” 

He turned to face you, shoving his hands into his pockets, throwing his eyes to the ground.

“What do you think he’ll say?”

Your heart broke for Arthur all over again. You couldn’t imagine all the emotions that must be careening through him right now.  

“Thomas Wayne?” you drew in a breath. “I guess I don’t know what he’ll say. But we’re gonna get an answer out of him one way or another.” 

“I just…” Arthur sighed. “I just want him to talk to me. You don’t think that’s too much to ask, is it?”

You reached out and stroked Arthur’s cheek. 

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head. “After all, you said your mother’s been writing to him all this time and she hasn't gotten a response. I’m sure the Waynes have people who handle their correspondence - maybe they’ve ignored it or maybe nothing’s gotten through yet. Either way, I know I’d do the same thing if I were in your shoes.”

Arthur looked up at you. Those arresting, green eyes: filled with hope, hurt, anticipation. You said a silent prayer in that moment that whatever happened next, Arthur got the answers he needed. The answers he fucking deserved. 

Arthur pulled his hands out of his pockets and clasped them over your wrist. “I’m so glad you’re here, Y/N. If I had to come all by myself, I don’t think I’d have the guts to-”

He stopped, his eyes catching hold of something in the distance.

“What is it?” You turned around. Nothing had moved or changed that you could see. It took you a minute of scanning the surroundings until, finally, you spotted him: a tiny, sad-looking little boy playing all alone on a wooden jungle gym near the front gates. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old. 

“I think that’s his son,” you murmured. “I heard about him a couple times in the news.”

“Bruce Wayne,” Arthur said. 

“That’s right, Bruce.” You stared at the boy, mystified. There was a distinct melancholy and isolation you could feel radiating off of him, even from so far away. 

“He looks so…so…” You struggled to find the words.

“Alone.” 

You pursed your lips and looked back at Arthur, nodding. And then another realization dawned on you. 

“Oh my God,” you blinked. “If Thomas Wayne really is your father, then that would mean…”

Arthur swallowed, nodding. “I’ve thought about that, too. I know it sounds crazy, but now that I see him…I…”

You waited. 

“He reminds me so much of myself when I was a little boy.” 

“Oh shit,” you exhaled, looking back at Bruce, then back at Arthur. “I mean…I suppose given what your mother’s said…what do you wanna do, Arthur?” 

Arthur took a deep breath and to your surprise, a warm, gently confident smile began to spread across his face. 

“I’m gonna go say ‘hi.’”

“Do you want me to come with you?” You wanted Arthur to feel completely supported. You knew that sometimes being supportive looked like coming along, and other times it looked more like hanging back and letting the other person take the lead. 

“I think I should do this part myself,” he said. “But I’ll come get you if I need to.” 

“I’ll be right here,” you squeezed his hand. “I love-”

Wait, what the hell were you saying? Had you completely taken leave of your senses?

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat. “I love…waiting!” you finished brightly, hoping he’d buy it. “I’ll wait as long as you need and I’ll be right here. Be strong, okay? And if they give you any trouble, call me and…I’ll beat everyone up!”

Arthur smiled, lifted your hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it, sending chills through your entire being. If he’d somehow picked up on your almost-love-confession, he didn’t show it. 

Arthur already has enough on his mind right now, you chastised yourself as you watched him approach the gate. He doesn’t need you muddling it further with your irrational emotions. 

You couldn’t tell Arthur you loved him now. First of all, it was way too soon. 

Second of all…

Well, the second part was embarrassing. And more than a little crazy. You knew your feelings for Arthur were real, but that didn’t stop you from recognizing how intense they were after only knowing him a short time. 

So why, then, did it feel like the most natural thing to say? The thing you sensed he needed to hear?

You meandered further up the drive, away from the entrance, giving Arthur his space but staying close enough so you could quickly run to his side if necessary. 

It was startlingly quiet here compared to the endless cacophony of Gotham City. So quiet, it felt like if you stopped and listened carefully, you could hear the wind in the trees singing to you. 

Despite the peaceful surroundings, however, bitter memories began to weave their way into your mind. You knew a good faction of your former GU classmates hailed from this part of Long Island - hell, some of their families probably even rubbed elbows with the Waynes themselves: probably got invited to their fancy Christmas and New Year’s Eve parties, toasting their continued privilege and fortune over a bottle of champagne that cost more than you made in a month. 

You didn’t have anything in common with those people. So how on earth had you found yourself among them in the first place? 

The answer was almost annoyingly simple: your parents had drilled the importance of getting an education into you since you were a toddler, telling you it would open doors, get you the better life you deserved…unlike the two of them who’d gotten jobs straight out of high school and lamented nonstop how much the lack of a college education had held them back from their potential. 

“Potential,” you muttered to yourself under your breath. That was the word they’d always used and it still left a sour taste in your mouth. 

“You have so much potential, Y/N,” they’d always say. “But you can’t let it go to waste. You have to work three times as hard as everyone else in order to realize it.”  

You’d believed them - bought their promises hook, line and sinker and dutifully applied yourself like the good little girl you were. The truth was, you’d never quite fit in at Burnley High, either. Most of the kids there dropped out or phoned in the bare minimum to scoot by and pick up a diploma, but you’d been among the top five performers in your graduating class of over 400 students. You’d done the extra work, taken the hardest classes, stayed home and sacrificed any semblance of a normal teenage social life to mold yourself into the high-achieving student your family wanted you to be. 

And it had paid off. At least for a brief moment in time. When the letter from Gotham University arrived saying you’d gotten in with a full scholarship, you’d cried tears of joy. Your mother had cried. Your father said he was proud of you. He never said things like that.

You remembered back to that day: the teary-eyed seventeen year old girl holding an acceptance letter in her sweaty, trembling hands like a golden badge of honor. That badge represented everything you’d worked your entire life for, everything you’d ever wanted: Validation. Recognition. Belonging.

Belonging. Yes, back then, that same girl believed she was finally being admitted through the golden gates to a place she belonged. You’d been naive enough to assume that at college you’d encounter more people like yourself, people who came from nothing but made amazing things happen through hard work and belief in themselves. 

But Gotham U had been nothing like you’d expected. 

Yes, the students were bright, but the vast majority were also spoiled and entitled. They seemed to take their enrollment at the school for granted, and the fact that their parents paid their tuition in full (were able to pay it in the first place) didn’t in any way accelerate their work ethic. These were kids whose parents owned country houses, summer houses and yachts. Kids who went to horseback riding camp every summer since they were six, learned how to ski when they were four, took vacations over spring break to places like Paris or Barcelona or the Hamptons. 

You’d never even ridden on an airplane. 

How ignorant that girl with the acceptance letter was, you mused. The dream of being a student at Gotham University had powered everything you’d worked for the first 17 years of your life…and all too late turned into a horrible nightmare. 

“Potential.” What did it mean now? Of course, your parents were still holding out hope you’d eventually return to GU. But GU was just like the Waynes themselves: they wanted to portray themselves as a beacon of magnanimity and altruism, but when it came to actually stepping up and doing the right thing, their interests lay solely with themselves and their ability to maintain wealth and power. When the cards were down, a poor scholarship girl from Burnley High didn’t qualify for basic human consideration. And your biggest mistake was believing that they ever would. 

After all the unpleasantness that had occurred towards the end of your first year - the school’s administration “generously” forcing you to take medical leave or be expelled - you’d started to believe you didn’t belong anywhere. You didn’t see a future for yourself anymore. And feeling this way not only made you incredibly sad, but it scared you. 

But all that had started to change since meeting Arthur. Arthur, you imagined, who right now was probably feeling the same way you had on the first day of freshman orientation: Hoping, with the most optimistic part of his heart, that he just might find the love and acceptance he’d yearned for for so long.  

But was life on the other side of those golden gates all that Arthur imagined it could be? 

Suddenly, you felt extremely protective of him. You knew it was inappropriate to eavesdrop, but who were you kidding? Just the thought of Arthur going through something similar to your experience at that school was unthinkable. You tiptoed closer - not close enough to be spotted, but close enough to give yourself the best chance of overhearing…well, spying. 

“Bruce! What are you doing?” Another man’s voice shot out accusingly over the quiet. “Get away from that man.”

Shit. Not good. Your heart started to race. 

Please, you prayed, please don’t be assholes. 

You realized almost immediately how useless such a plea was. These were the Waynes, after all. 

“It’s okay,” you heard Arthur respond. “I’m a good guy.”

Resisting the urge to race to Arthur’s side took every inch of self control in your body. You reminded yourself that he’d wanted to do this alone. You wanted to respect that. Arthur could hold his own. He was a strong person, deep down. And dealing with rudeness was nothing he wasn’t accustomed to.

But if they were complete assholes to him, you didn’t know how much you could tolerate. 

You crept even closer, still hidden behind the giant shrubs that surrounded the estate. The other voice couldn’t belong to Thomas Wayne, you reasoned. Thomas Wayne didn’t have an English accent.  

“Can you tell Mr. Wayne that I need to see him?” Arthur asked. 

At that moment, the wind picked up, compromising your ability to hear as clearly as before. You cursed under your breath, cupping your hand to your ear. 

“...your mother was a sick woman,” you heard the other man say to Arthur in the coldest, most unfeeling tone imaginable. “She was delusional.”

Your jaw dropped. Your right hand fell from your ear and twisted reflexively into a fist. 

“Don’t say that,” you growled under your breath. 

Exactly who the fuck did these people think they were? Couldn’t they put themselves in another person’s shoes for just one fucking second? If the roles were reversed, wouldn’t they want the same answers? Didn’t everyone deserve that? 

Deep breaths, Y/N, you told yourself. Deep breaths. 

“Just go,” the man’s cruel, disdainful voice echoed up the drive. “Before you make a bigger fool of yourself.” 

That did it. Fuck the deep breaths. Fuck taking the high road. And fuck this rude asshole.

The entire world blurred into raging red as you found yourself barreling like a fiery cannonball down the drive to Arthur’s side, ready to fight, to climb those gates like an acrobat and beat the living hell out of that asshole - any anyone else who wanted some, too. 

How dare he talk to Arthur Fleck, your Arthur Fleck, that way? 

When you rounded the corner, you were surprised and more than a little satisfied to see that Arthur had already reached through the gates and grabbed the dude by his collar, holding him in a semi-chokehold. 

“Kick his ass!” you cried out. “Kick his motherfucking ass!” 

The rude man’s eyes darted to you, filled with surprise, confusion, fear. And the inability to utter another word for lack of oxygen. 

Good.

You pulled your right arm back and swung through the gates with all your strength, punching him square across the face while Arthur held him in place. The man’s nose started bleeding and you smiled. Your anger made you strong, increased your strength exponentially in the moments you needed it most. Though you’d never admit it to anyone, it was one of the things you actually liked about this part of yourself that you were supposed to reject, to work so hard to rid yourself of. 

You liked feeling strong in a world where everyone was more than happy to step and walk all over you without a second thought. And you were tired of pretending you didn’t.

Arthur was a slight, diminutive man, but his anger made him strong, too. He had the asshole so tight by the collar, it looked like his face was turning red. 

You were winding up, about to strike again when you suddenly registered the face of the sad little boy from before. Standing off to the side, he was now a very scared-looking little boy; frozen like a little Bambi fawn, eyes wide, terrified. 

Terrified…of you. Of the both of you. 

Those bewildered eyes were enough to stop you in your tracks. All at once, common sense and empathy rushed back into your heart like an ocean wave. As much as this surly jackass deserved a beatdown, you knew you’d never forgive yourself for permanently traumatizing a defenseless little kid. 

Even if he was a Wayne. 

As though he’d come to the same realization at the same exact moment, Arthur released the man just as you stopped yourself from throwing another, harder, right hook. The jerk fell backwards, clutching at his crumpled collar, and Arthur grabbed your arm. Without exchanging a word, you raced back up the drive together, running like two gazelles as fast as your feet could carry you. 

The next few minutes were a continued blur. Wayne Manor receded further and further into the background as you drew closer to the train station. You’d been too afraid to turn back and see if anyone was chasing you, but by now the adrenaline was wearing off, and your legs felt like they could give out at any second. 

“Arthur, wait!” you stopped, breathlessly, reaching out to grab him by the sleeve. Mustering up the courage to look back, you were relieved to see you hadn’t been followed. You’d managed to escape by the skin of your teeth. 

“I think we’re in the clear,” you gasped for air. 

Arthur stopped and turned to face you, panting. “Are you alright, Y/N? Are you hurt?” 

“I’m fine,” you shook your head. “I’m so sorry, Arthur. This is all my fault.”

A confused look came across his face and he took both your hands into his. “What do you mean?”

“I went crazy again. I werewolfed! I didn’t mean to, it's just…” your eyes filled with tears, realizing all too late of course, that the last thing you’d wanted in accompanying Arthur today was to do anything that would ultimately result in making it harder for him to get the answers he needed. 

How could you have let this happen? 

Arthur held up a hand to stop you. “I went crazy first,” he pointed out. 

“Well, yeah, you grabbed the guy,” you conceded. “But I’m the one who made his nose bleed, for God’s sake! I never would’ve done it if I knew the kid was watching.” You shook your head, tears filling your eyes. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved…”

“No, Y/N,” Arthur squeezed your hands in his. “I’m glad you were there. I didn’t wanna scare the little boy, either. Seeing him brought me back to myself. I know what it’s like to be scared at that age…scared and helpless…”

Arthur’s words made the tears you’d been fighting swell over and you fell into his arms. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. Shh, come here.” Arthur pulled you into a tight embrace against his chest. 

“I didn’t mean to scare him,” you sobbed into his shoulder. “I’m a bad person, Arthur. I’m awful.”

“That’s not true!” he protested. “Why are you saying that?”

He stepped back and tried to look you in the eye, but you were too ashamed to face him. The mean, inner voice you’d suffered with in secret since you were a little kid had taken over and had you in its iron grip of shame:

You don’t deserve to be loved.

You’re defective.

You’re worthless.

You’re awful. 

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Arthur whispered into your hair. “I understand. I understand what you’re feeling. But it’s not true. Whatever you’re telling yourself right now is not true.” 

You cried harder into his embrace. You might have known he’d understand. You’d found the one person in the world who felt what you felt - or at least the one person brave enough to admit to it. 

“Please don’t cry, Y/N.” You could feel Arthur’s heart pounding against your ears. “You're not a bad person,” he murmured into your hair. “You’re anything but a bad person.”

“But I messed everything up. Like I always do.”

“You stopped yourself from taking things further,” Arthur pointed out. “We both did. That means something.” 

“But how are you gonna find out if Thomas Wayne’s your father now?” you wailed. “How are you gonna get your answers?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Arthur reassured you. “I don’t want you worrying about that.”

Arthur brought his hands to your face, cradling it. You looked up into his shining, green eyes, tenderness emanating from them. His fingers gently stroked back your hair, wiped away your tears. 

“You need to breathe, Y/N. Can you take a deep breath?”

He breathed with you. In and out. And in and out again. Finally, you felt your pulse begin to slow, the maddening blur of self-hatred and negative vitriol shift from a wild gallop to a trot. It was a small change, but enough to allow you to start feeling human again. 

Arthur stepped back and a small, shy smile spread across his face. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said. 

You wiped your nose, bewildered. “‘Thank you’? For what?” 

“For coming here with me. For standing up for me the way you have. No one’s ever done anything like that for me before.”

“But, Arthur, I-”

“If you hadn’t been there for me, I’d be all alone right now,” he interjected. “Like I’ve been all my life. But I’m not alone anymore. Because of you.”

His shy smile shifted into a sly grin. He placed a soft kiss on your cheekbone. 

“I love you, too,” he whispered, before tenderly bringing his mouth to yours. 

Thank you for reading and for all the sweet, encouraging comments! I have struggled to write this as of late, but I'm committed to finishing this story and can't wait to share the rest of it with you. I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.

xx ghastella

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💗Master List

[cozage]

The Moss that Grew in Gloom

Chapter 4: Celebrating the Little Things

Start From Beginning | Next Chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Summary: As the daughter of the best swordsman in the world, your life has been a lonely one. You've never minded the quiet life, until a mossy-haired swordsman falls to your island and shakes things up. Word Count: 1.3k Characters: female reader x Zoro

You decided to read for another hour before you risked venturing up to the third story. Based on a lifetime with your father, you knew it took him 15 minutes to get ready for bed, then 15 minutes to fall asleep. But you wanted to make sure he was in a deep sleep before you made any noise that might wake him. 

You crept past your fathers door and down the hall to Zoro’s new bedroom. You knocked softly on his door, trying your best not to disturb your father. He was a few rooms down, but he had always been a light sleeper. 

Zoro softly opened the door with a light creak, and you held up two bottles of wine and two glasses. “Celebration time!” You cheered quietly, raising the wine bottles in the air. 

Zoro frowned. “Just two?” he asked, looking at the bottles with disappointment. 

You rolled your eyes and sauntered past him into the room. You waited until his door had shut before you talked more freely. “We’re celebrating,” you hissed. “Not getting drunk off our ass!”

“Boring,” he said, but you could see a teasing smile dance across his lips. 

“Wanna make it a competition?” you asked, holding out a bottle to the swordsman. 

He raised an eyebrow as he took the bottle. “You’ll lose.”

You could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t bluffing. You didn’t doubt it either; you had seen him down alcohol at dinner. The substance barely affected him, even after several bottles. If it were a drinking contest, you were certain you’d lose miserably. 

“Not quite what you’re thinking,” you said. “Whoever can cut the cleanest cut across the bottle wins.”

Zoro laughed, turning the bottle over in his hand. He looked at the label, and you watched as his eyes practically popped out of their sockets when he saw the price tag. 

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “You can’t risk wasting such good alcohol for a competition.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. “Scared to lose?” you asked innocently. You could see irritation spring up in his expression from your taunting. “We don’t have bottle openers anyway. You’ll have to slice it open.”

“Why the hell don’t you have a bottle opener?!” He demanded, his voice rising.

“Shush!” you hissed. “I don’t want to wake the others! Unless you want to share.”

Zoro frowned, obviously not wanting to lose his celebratory bottle. 

You placed your bottle on the floor and held out Nikko, readying yourself to make the cut. Zoro did the same, looking at the bottle uneasily. 

“If anything, I’m at a disadvantage. The teeth on Nikko could shatter the entire bottle.”

Zoro scoffed. “If you break yours, I’m not sharing.”

You sliced at the bottle without another word, a perfect cut across the neck. You suppressed a smile. Your father had always said there was no point for bottle openers; if you were too sloppy to open a bottle with a sword, you didn’t deserve to drink its contents. 

Zoro went next. There was some slight hesitation in his movement, but he was strong and had a good grip on the sword. The cut was clean, though upon further examination, not perfect. 

You clicked your tongue. “I see an imperfection right here.” You shook your head. “I think that means I won.”

“Oh piss off!” Zoro grabbed his bottle from your critical gaze and took a long swig. 

You grabbed your own bottle and sat down on the floor, savoring the rich flavors of the wine. It had to be at least 20 years old. Your father always picked the best wine when he was away. 

“So, you’re going to be the best swordsman some day?” you asked, trying to make small talk. 

“I am.” He let out a deep sigh. “This is damn good wine.”

“Why do you want to be the best?” you asked, looking at him inquisitively. 

He bit his lip, waiting a moment before he responded. “I made a promise.”

You raised an eyebrow. “To your captain?”

“No.”

The shortness of his answer surprised you. “Then to who?” 

He gritted his teeth. “Can you stop with the questions?”

His irritation made your face burn, and you took a long drink of wine to cover it up. It had been a long time since you had constant interaction with another human being who wasn’t your father. 

Sure, you had gone on small missions, but you had never gotten to know anyone. You were usually killing people or sneaking around, finding the highest bounty pirates you could so you could return home with some money. 

Being with Zoro was nothing like that. 

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I just don’t like talking about it.”

“That’s okay,” you said quietly, taking another drink.

“What about you?” Zoro asked. “Don’t you want to be the best?”

You shrugged. “Not really. I just want to be good enough to survive in the outside world.”

Zoro gave a dry laugh. “Trust me sweetheart, you’d be one of the best anywhere on the Grand Line.”

His compliment made your face flush again, and a heavy silence fell between you two. You weren’t sure how to tell him that even if you wanted to leave the island, you had nowhere to go. You could survive on the Grand Line, but you weren’t entirely sure what you wanted to do if you left Gloom Island. You had no idea who you wanted to be. 

“Thanks again for today,” Zoro said, finally bringing you back from your thoughts. 

You waved him off. “It was nothing.”

“It was everything,” he said, looking in your eyes. 

You weren’t sure when he had gotten so close to you. You could feel his body heat radiating off of him. You tried to blink a few times to clear your head, but your thoughts grew cloudy again the moment you looked at his slate-gray eyes. The wine must’ve gone to your head faster than you anticipated.

You weren’t sure why, but the alarm bells in your brain were ringing. Dangerous territory. You shouldn’t be here with him. Your father’s enemy. The one who would bring him down. You shouldn’t have come here. And yet all you wanted to do was move closer. 

You finally found the words you were looking for, and they came out in a whisper. “Whenever you need help, just let me know.”

He gave a small smile. “Tomorrow then. You’ll help me infuse the haki into my sword?”

You scowled, pulling back from him and taking a drink of wine. “You’re at least a month away from trying that, Roronoa.”

“I have a good teacher.”

You gave a light chuckle, finishing off the last of your wine and setting the bottle down. “That’s why I gave you a month.”

“Call me Zoro.” He set down his bottle and shook his head. “No need for the honorifics if you’re going to be training me.”

You weren’t sure why it mattered, but you nodded. 

Your body felt heavy, the wine coursing through your bloodstream. You needed to get to bed before you started feeling the negative effects of the alcohol. You stood to your feet, heading for the door, swaying much more than you intended to. 

“Let me walk you back to your room.”

You snorted. “You’d get hopelessly lost if you tried that.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “I think I can find my way back to my room.”

“I don’t!” you barked out another laugh, the wine amplifying your giddiness. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You could feel his eyes on you as you opened the door, and you turned back to him one last time. “Goodnight, Roronoa Zoro.”

His eyes bore into your soul as he said, “Goodnight.”

You could feel his gaze on you as you gave him one last smile. You could feel him staring at you, even as you quietly shut his door. And you could’ve sworn his eyes followed you all the way back to your room, until you fell into your bed and promptly fell asleep for the night. 

[hailturinturambar]

Pieces of the Sea.

Pairing: Elrond x Galadriel

Word count: 2.589

Author's Notes: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes or confusion. I really love these two, they are one of my favorite Tolkien characters, and I really love their friendship. This story is dedicated to @dandexllions, for helping me so much. I decided that the request I received from Elrondriel will be the second part of this chapter.

Warnings: Anguish. Conflicting feelings. Nothing major, I would say.

Summary: In the First Age of Arda, when Morgoth was defeated, the Elves were invited to return to Valinor, and Elrond, being a Half-Elven, must make a choice. But his heart still yearns for Middle-earth, and above all, his heart yearns for Galadriel.

Part I, Part II

In the First Age of Arda, when Eärendil the Mariner, set out to find Valinor, he hoped to find peace, salvation. But all that was left was pain and suffering. For Eärendil had much to lose, and much he had lost. And not even the Valar could grant him what he was asking.

Yet, if Eärendil remained in the Undying Lands, guarding Arda against the darkness of the Void, against the unknown, there was still hope, but not for him. So the Valar set out from Valinor to Middle-earth, in search of Morgoth.

The War of Wrath, they called it, the most brutal battle that Middle-earth had ever seen. The Eagles of Valinor, alongside Eärendil, fought against the winged beasts of Angband. Ages had passed since the Elves had come to Middle-earth, and now once again they fought side by side, for the end of the darkness.

Some darkness, however, does not disappear, no matter how hard one fights. And intense the battle had been, changing the foundations of Middle-earth, reverberating throughout Arda. Victorious, Valar and Elves, they had been. But the price had been too high, they had sacrificed too much.

Morgoth had been defeated, cast into the Void of Arda from which he could never leave. The Elves could once again return to Valinor. But that did not seem right, not to Elrond. How could he leave for the Blessed Realm? Elrond did not know that land, and he feared it above all else.

Because everything Elrond had, everything that mattered to him, was there, in Middle-earth. He could not reach his father. His mother. His protectors Maedhros and Maglor, consumed by the oath, by the lure of the Silmarils, were lost to Elrond as well.

But he had Elros, his twin brother, still. At least, that is what Elrond had thought. Because Elros might be his twin brother, but they were as different in soul and spirit as two brothers could be.

To the faithful Men who fought against the advance of Morgoth, a land would be given. An island, prosperous and far from the horrors of Middle-earth, where they could start over and live in peace. But Elrond and Elros were not like the Elves or the Men. They were everything, but also, they were nothing.

Which path should they follow? In Valinor, no Half-Elves had ever existed before. So through their parents' bravery, their support, and their aid in the battle against Morgoth, the twins could choose what they wished to be. Two halves they were, but they could be only one.

Elrond was in doubt, his heart was in doubt. He did not wish to be mortal, to live a single life, but how was he to spend all the ages of the world alone? For Elros had gone with Men to Númenor, far away from Elrond, never to return.

And Elrond was once again left alone, left behind. He had thought so, until he met her. Galadriel, of the Golden House of Finarfin. Like many Elves, Galadriel had remained in Middle-earth, refusing the blessing of the Valar. That had been the first time Galadriel had refused, but it would not be the last.

Galadriel had, even if he did not know it, watched Elrond. Because he looked so lonely, so forsaken, that she felt sorry for him. And she had given him water, when he had nothing left, or no one, and Elrond felt hope blossom in his chest for the first time in a long time.

To Lindon they must set out. The War of Wrath had plunged Beleriand and the waters ran brutally on all sides, that land no longer existed. Gil-galad gathered the remnants in search of a new beginning. It was a good beginning, for a long time.

For with Morgoth's defeat, Sauron the coward, had gone into hiding, and whispers said that he had been defeated. Despite all the horrors, Middle-earth seemed to be at peace once more.

But Galadriel was not at peace, she did not feel that peace in her chest. She had lost too much, suffered too much, to believe in peace. Elrond, however, remained by her side, begging her to leave for Lindon with him and the Elves.

What else did she have to lose? At least, Gil-galad was her part of the family too, even if things were messy between them. Lindon seemed different from all the other kingdoms in Middle-earth, because it glowed with the flame of hope.

A new beginning for them all. Elrond wanted to start over, he felt he needed it, and he was content to start over with her, Galadriel. But she was grieving, for Finrod, for Celeborn. For all who had been lost in the war.

While Elrond was chosen as Gil-galad's Herald, Galadriel armed herself to set out from Lindon, searching for Sauron, searching for the slightest sign that he was still alive. Elrond doubted it. No, he wished Sauron were gone forever.

All Elrond had was one night. One night before the Elves left with Galadriel from Lindon. Before she left for ages, because Elrond knew she would not return, not if she was determined to find the Dark Lord.

So, all Lindon rejoiced, celebrating the departure of the Elves, wishing and singing in harmony that they would depart safely, that they would be victorious, as their parents had been, as all who had fallen in battle.

Joy filled all of Lindon, but Elrond did not feel happy. How could he, when Galadriel was about to leave? Happiness did not live in Elrond's heart, not when he was about to lose Galadriel.

She looked radiant, like one of the Silmarils, like a deity, Elrond thought, watching her gathered with the Elves at the banquet. Galadriel's blue dress shone like an ocean, commanding the attention of all the Elves.

As far as he was concerned, she commanded Elrond's attention. He was a mere herald to the other Elves, even if he was descended from Tuor and Lúthien, it did not matter in Lindon. How could he possibly compete for Galadriel's attention? But Galadriel's attention was fixed on Elrond.

And she blamed herself deeply for that. What right did she have to be happy, when she had lost everyone she loved? She felt guilty, deeply. And being with Elrond scared her, because he and only he could light the long-extinguished flame in her chest.

Galadriel did not know that feeling. She was afraid to know that feeling deeply, because she knew that Elrond felt the same. Did not he? She suspected, at least. Every time he left a meeting with Gil-galad, just to accompany her to Lindon.

Every time he smiled at her, it was as if the Two Trees of Valinor came alive. Galadriel was then startled, trying to keep her distance from Elrond, trying to prevent the feeling from growing in her chest. As if she would be able to change that now.

Elrond walked over to Galadriel, who smiled softly at him, as if he were the most important person in all of Middle-earth to her. Sometimes, Elrond believed he was at least one of them. Galadriel held out her hand to Elrond, and how could he refuse? He laced his fingers with hers, while her hand gently caressed his face.

“Do you allow me?” Elrond asked, as Galadriel looked around.

As she looked at the couples dancing around them. Would nogt it be a little strange, Galadriel wondered, noting that they were all couples, not just friends. But perhaps this would be the last time she would see Elrond for a long, long time.

“Have I ever said no to you?” Galadriel said, stroking Elrond’s hand.

Elrond just smiled, leading Galadriel to where the others were dancing. It felt good to be so close to her, so close. It felt right to be there with Galadriel, dancing with her, as if the war did not exist.

While all Elrond could feel was her hand gently touching his shoulder, as she smiled whenever he twirled Galadriel during the dance. Elrond loved to see her smile, it was something so rare, so unusual. He thought she deserved to smile more. He wanted her to smile more.

And Galadriel seemed so at peace in his arms, dancing with the lightness known in Valinor, with the purity taught by the Valar, as if she had never even known war. As if she were no more warrior than maiden.

Galadriel did not know how long she had spent dancing with Elrond, while the moon lit up all of Lindon. Time did not seem to exist, not here, not when she was in his arms. Because she felt at peace, and she had not felt peace in a long time.

“Come with me.” She said smiling, dragging Elrond away from the feast.

The stars of Varda followed them, fleeing like a pair of lovers from the banquet. The truth is that Galadriel was anxious, too worried about leaving. She did not know what this new fight would be like, what it would be like to face Sauron, if they encountered the Dark Lord.

She just wanted to spend some time in peace with Elrond, away from the war. Away from all the sadness. And in a secluded garden in Lindon, no Elf who had abandoned the feast was there. Under the moonlight, Galadriel forced Elrond to accompany her to the garden.

“Is this your secret place?” Asked Elrond.

“My only secret place in all Middle-earth.” Galadriel said, smiling fondly at him.

Elrond simply agreed, sitting beside Galadriel in the garden. It was peaceful there, very beautiful and comforting. Elrond did not know Valinor, but he thought that perhaps it was that joy, that peace, that the Elves felt in the Blessed Realm.

But the happiness was not complete, because a shadow clouded Elrond's heart. He needed to talk about this, with Galadriel, once and for all. Uncertain, Elrond reached for Galadriel's hand and she looked at him in confusion.

“Do not go.” He practically begged.

“What?”

“Galadriel.” Elrond murmured, trying to find the courage to speak what was weighing on his chest. “Do not go after Sauron. Do not fight this battle alone.”

“You know I must do this,” Galadriel said firmly. “You, more than anyone, know that I cannot stop fighting, not now.”

“All I want is your well-being. You deserve peace, Galadriel.”

Elrond needed her to understand, to know that he was not abandoning her, no matter how much she was suffering. He would continue to be by her side, until the end. Elrond's free hand cupped Galadriel's face, caressing her cheek tenderly.

“We do not even know if Sauron is still there,” Elrond said fearfully. “We can start over here.”

“Start over?” Galadriel asked, raising her eyebrows. “Start over as if we were not at war?”

“The war is over, Galadriel.”

But Galadriel was furious with Elrond's words. How dare he try to discourage her? She quickly pulled away from Elrond's hands, getting up from the ground, without looking in his direction, without caring how her dress was full of white petals.

She did not care when he called her, turning her back to him, avoiding hearing everything he had to say. Because Galadriel deeply feared that he was right, that he could change her mind.

Elrond would not give up, not now, as he felt Galadriel slipping from his grasp like pieces of the sea. He ran after her, calling her name, even though she ignored him. Elrond knew, deep down, where she was escaping to.

And Galadriel hated that he was right the moment she felt his hand touch her arm, stopping her from fleeing to her chambers. To the only place she felt like herself in Lindon.

Galadriel looked only at Elrond, because she was furious, because she was unable to refute his words, so she let him release her arm, and hold her face tenderly, keeping her attention on him.

All Galadriel could do was look at Elrond. But he needed more of her, because this was his last chance, was not it? And Galadriel was not strong enough to resist when she felt Elrond's lips against hers.

Was it always supposed to be this right? Because nothing had ever felt as right to Galadriel as kissing Elrond, so she could only return the kiss with the same passion as he did, wrapping her arms around his neck, preventing him from pulling away.

As if Elrond was capable of that, as if Elrond wanted to walk away from her, when all he wanted was to drown in Galadriel's kisses. To erase all the sadness from her mind, to erase the memories of the war from her chest.

Elrond could not bear Galadriel's departure, not when she was all he had left, and when his hands gripped her waist passionately, he hoped she felt it in his kiss.

Because Elrond's mind was dominated by Galadriel even before the Sun rose, and after the Moon shone in the sky. Deep down, Elrond suspected that Galadriel also felt something for him, perhaps even loved him a little, even if she lied about those feelings. Even if she hid them deep in her chest.

But when Galadriel brought her hands to Elrond's hair, stroking his curls, he felt as if he loved her a little more, as if he was falling in love with her all over again.

Galadriel felt so bad for returning Elrond's kiss. Because no matter how much she lied, denied it, or tried to hide it. Galadriel knew that she loved Elrond, deep down, but felt like she did not deserve him. Even though she loved him more than he imagined, more than he could ever know.

Because when she looked into his eyes, she knew that she would remember those eyes even if she returned from Mandos, as if she had known him all her lives. But Galadriel could not accept Elrond's love, his heart. It would be like stealing all his hopes, only to abandon him in the end.

Because Galadriel would walk on isolated, distant paths. Where Elrond could not accompany her, not on this journey. Everything seemed so terribly uncertain, impossible. And Galadriel's chest filled with fear, but she did not let the tears fall.

“I cannot.” Galadriel murmured, breaking the kiss, but without moving away from Elrond.

“I am not asking you to give up your journey,” Elrond said, practically whispering. “Because I know it is important to you, and I do not wish to change your heart.”

“So what?” Galadriel asked angrily, looking at Elrond, feeling his breath against her face.

Elrond sighed, defeated, letting Galadriel walk away from him. How could he make her see, make her understand, that all he wanted was her, no matter the weight she brought with her?

“Just stay with me,” Elrond murmured. “If not forever, then at least today.”

One night. One moment in a very long life. One moment that could change Galadriel's mind, her heart, but she was willing to take the risk, because it was worth it. Because there was nothing left for her outside of Lindon, and she knew it.

“Forever is too long word.” Galadriel said.

And when she smiled at Elrond, he knew he would wait for her, for as long as it took. Until she had healed her own heart, until the scars of war had faded. But now, all he did was kiss Galadriel back, as passionate as she was.

Why does everything about these two have to involve angst, and yet be so good? Either way, the next chapter will be a little happier.

tag: @valar-did-me-wrong

[fellow-human-writer]

On writing motivation and writer's block (+ a special piece of my own writing)

So, for a self-proclaimed writer, I haven't been doing very well with my writing lately. It's been well over six months now since I last wrote anything of substance (I spent two weeks writing a chapter every day and burned myself out, but that's a story for another day). Right now, it's hard to not feel a bitter sense of guilt about it all. Where has all my motivation gone? How dare I call myself a writer? Maybe I should just forget about it. I'd never make it anyway. But then, I remember one particular piece of writing I produced over 9 months ago, some time before hitting my big wall. A seemingly random fragment from chapter 9 of my semi-abandoned WIP. Perhaps it will read as nothing special to you. I won't claim it to be perfect, or even great writing. But to me, it is hope. I showed it to my one and only beta (more like alpha) reader at the time, who'd been keeping up with my novel-writing endeavors, and they told me that these paragraphs had evoked deep feelings in them. That they were beautiful. It won't have that effect on everyone—hell, it won't have it on most people. But, at the very least, I made one person feel something beautiful with my writing. I know that. And is that not what this is all about? As long as I can make one person feel, maybe it's all worth it after all. I will keep calling myself a writer. I won't give up. And I guarantee, you reading this right now have the ability to make people feel too, no matter what. Be strong, friend. I will be rooting for you. I want to share that special fragment of mine with you all. It's out of context, given that it's from chapter 9 of a novel, but I think it can mostly stand on its own. One crucial piece of worldbuilding first: The main trait this fantasy world has is that its two continents (gigantic floating islands/landmasses) are situated in such a way that the one on top (the "highlands") block most of the light/sky for the residents of the one below (the "lowlands"), which is where our POV character currently is, going through some magical trial or other (you'll see!) Without further ado, here's said piece of writing. I hope at least one of you out there who randomly came across this post enjoys it :]

Leiden looked up. The base of the highlands couldn't be more than a couple dozen paces away. From so up close it felt even more oppressive than usual. He noticed a second plaque, inlaid in the roof of the tower, where he was standing. There was more to the trial, as he suspected. After reading its contents, however, he felt confused. ‘I'm glad to see you make it here. Your task is simple: Feast upon the beauty of the sky.’ He looked up again. It would be hard to feast upon what wasn't there. If he looked to the sides, he could just barely make out the thin lines of sky visible beyond the highlands. It didn't feel like enough to exactly feast upon. For the sake of trying something, he lied down with his back to the stone. He had enjoyed cloud watching, back when he was above. Even though there were only rocks on top of him, he wrapped his hands behind his head, and tried to remember the feeling of admiring the sky. He closed his eyes and pictured a summer afternoon, with an open sky decorated by a few lonely clouds. What was the point of this trial? Maybe it had once been possible to see the sky from here. Had the highlands not always been above the lowlands? Perhaps it was all part of the trial. Slowly, those complicated thoughts ran out of steam, and Leiden became fully involved in his personal sky, and his little clouds. It was nice. It had been a while since he'd felt like he could afford to take a moment to just relax. He saw shapes of all kinds in the clouds, as they swirled and morphed and danced with the wind. Sometimes the sun peeked from behind, bathing him in rays of light. He realized there was no need to limit himself to one kind of sky. A wave of darkness swept over the azure background, and small brilliant dots started to cover the sea of black. The moon stood out amongst them all, shining with borrowed light. It seemed larger than usual, like it was stretching to cover Leiden's view to the fullest extent it was capable of. For a moment, within himself, Leiden stopped feeling alone as he became part of a whole. He was a blade of grass, swaying in the dirt, surrounded by acres of grassy fields. He was a star, shining with the endless power of the sun; a speck, part of a map of dots where each one represented wonders beyond a human’s capability to understand. He was everything, and yet he was nothing at all. It was a realization that often eluded a species defined by their willingness to work against nature. What separates a human from an eagle, soaring through the clouds; or an ant, working hard for the good of its colony? What makes us so different from a flower, helping the bee produce its food in exchange for having their lineage continued? Are we so different from a gust of wind, ephemeral in its passing, yet meaningful all the same? Leiden felt like a mote of dust, suspended in a beam of light. Visible only as long as the sun shined, yet always there. He floated in the air, no longer supported by the steady stone beneath him. Well done, child, a voice said. He was so surprised by the voice that he snapped out of his daydreaming. He opened his eyes and realized that he really was floating—or he had been, until the free fall started.

Thank you sincerely for taking the time to read it. It means a lot. I would love to hear what more people think of it. I'm still severely lacking as a writer, but I'm proud of it. It's more poetic than what I usually produce. That's all for today, friends. I hope you have a wonderful day. Good luck on your writing endeavors! We'll make it through, together <3