#his voice is like dark chocolate gold | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skzdarlings · 1 year

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

masterlist.

threesome series part 3/4.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” you say sweetly.

He whimpers with more theatrical misery.

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

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

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

You laugh into your hot chocolate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look to the doorway.

Ah. Speaking of.

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

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

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

His Felix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I gave you time,” Felix replies calmly.

“You gave me like five minutes, man!”

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

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

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

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

“Shut up about the syllables, dude.”

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

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

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

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

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

“For girls!” Jisung exclaimed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeaaah,” Felix says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby?” Jisung says gently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bring their hands together and withdraw your own touch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Enough?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He exhales. His breath flutters over your lips.

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you say. “Yes, I will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you say. “You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Babyeater,” Felix says.

“Oh nooo,” Jisung replies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t have to bow,” you whisper.

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

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

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

Jisung jumps and Seungmin cackles, bowing.

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

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

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

“Hi,” Jisung squeaks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aha, hi, Hyunjin,” Felix says.

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

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

“Um,” Jisung squeaks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I said no,” Felix repeats.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have fourteen older brothers,” Felix says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You feel a pang of sympathy, suddenly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grab his wrist without thinking, stopping him.

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

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

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

You stare ahead, mouth hanging open.

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

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

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

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

This is a very different type of flustered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh!”

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

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

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

“That’s only because I know you!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Of what?” he asks, totally innocent.

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

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

“I know, I know.” You kiss his cheek.

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

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

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

You feel very hot again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not like that,” you say.

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

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

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

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

“Jisungie…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think so,” Felix says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jisung is a step ahead of everyone.

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

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

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

“Make him stop!” Hyunjin shrieks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hat!” he shouts. “Now!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Be quiet,” Hyunjin replies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Humans,” he says, marching past Jisung.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck yeah I am,” Jisung says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aw,” Jisung says. “He’s flirting.”

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

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

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

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

“He’s right,” you say, giggling.

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

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

Felix delicately cups Jisung’s chin.

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

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

“Go,” Jisung says, nudging Felix forward.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good,” Felix rasps.

“So you wanna keep going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aren’t you tired too?” you ask.

“A little,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix smut #han jisung smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #faerie au

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fragileheartbeats · 4 days

Text

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐄 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝑇𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑒 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑡 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ♡ㅤ𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶ㅤ۫ㅤ𝅄ㅤೀ

— 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘦, 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘓𝘦𝘦, 𝘏𝘢𝘭, 𝘓𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦, 𝘒𝘺𝘭𝘦, 𝘙𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘶𝘴 <3

˚꒰🌼꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐓 ─ 𓇼 . ♡𝆬

Her skin, a canvas where perfection resides, Her hair, a cascade of silken tides. Her eyes, a mirror reflecting boundless depths, A universe of emotions, where love intercepts. Her voice, a symphony that soothes the soul, Its melody enchanting, making his spirit whole. Her laughter, a tinkling bell's sweet refrain, A melody that chases away all pain. He worships her as a deity of love, His heart surrenders, soaring like a dove. Her presence fills him with a sacred light, Guiding his path through life's murky night. With every breath he takes, her image lingers, An ethereal vision that sets his heart aflutter. Her existence a gift, beyond compare, A masterpiece of beauty, forever to share. He gazes at her with eyes filled with awe, Lost in her radiance, his soul in tow. Her smile, a beacon of hope and cheer, Dispelling darkness, casting out fear. In her embrace, he finds solace and peace, A sanctuary where his worries cease. Her touch, a gentle caress that sets him free, Healing wounds with its tender alchemy. He cherishes her laughter, prizes her tears, For in her presence, his world fills with cheers. She is his goddess, his guiding star, The love of his life, forever near and far. Through life's trials, he vows to stand by her side, His unwavering devotion, a constant guide. For in her love, he finds his greatest worth, A treasure he'll protect with all his heart's girth.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐀 ─ 𔒌 . ♡𝆬

In his heart's embrace, a tender soul resides, A confectioner's dream, sweetened with love's tides. His eyes behold a goddess, radiant and bright, Her every smile, a beacon that banishes the night. Like chocolate's rich aroma, his love fills the air, A fragrant symphony that conquers all care. Each glance from her eyes, a sip of pure delight, Melts his being to a state of dreamy flight. Her voice, a cascade of notes that dance in his ear, A sweet serenade that fills him with cheer. Her laughter echoes, as if bells ring with glee, A celestial chorus, etching her image in his memory. Her skin is as smooth as velvet, so soft to the touch, As if crafted from petals, untouched and unsmirched. Her hair cascades like a stream of molten gold, Ensnaring his heart in its shimmering hold. Her lips, a confection of sweetness, tempt his desire, A tantalizing treat that sets his soul afire. In her embrace, he finds solace and relief, His sugary paradise, banishing all grief. He worships the ground she treads upon with grace, Her every step a dance, a mesmerizing chase. Her smile, a beacon that guides him through the darkest night, Illuminating his path with its radiant light. Her mind is a treasure trove, wisdom flows unbound, Her words like honey, healing every wound. Her intellect captivates, her spirit soars, A paragon of beauty, unmatched in all time's doors. With every beat of his heart, his love grows stronger still, A tapestry of emotions, vibrant and true to fill. He's her devoted knight, ready to conquer all, His love for her, an unquenchable, eternal call. He envisions their future, a sugary delight, Filled with laughter, adventures, and love's gentle might. Together, they'll create memories as sweet as chocolate dreams, A lifetime of indulgence, fulfilling all their whims. Oh, sweet chocolatier, forever under her spell, His heart's desire, a goddess who captivates his soul so well. In her presence, he finds joy, contentment, and grace, An eternal love story, written on time's sweet embrace.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐋𝐄𝐄 ─ 𓇢𓆸 . ♡𝆬

Her every movement, a symphony of grace, Her laughter, a melody that fills his space. He watches from afar, his hunger gnawing, Yearning to possess her, her essence craving. But as reverence turns to possession's lust, He succumbs to a sin, a sacrifice unjust. With each morsel he consumes, her flesh so sweet, His love becomes a horror, a ravenous retreat. He whispers words of adoration as he feasts, His teeth sinking deep, a macabre release. Her eyes, once so radiant, now glazed with dread, As he feeds on her essence, leaving her for dead. In the aftermath, a hollow ache remains, A cruel mockery of the love he feigned. He mourns the goddess he created in his mind, His sorrow a bitter echo, his heart confined. Her bones, once pristine, now a grisly reminder, Of the depravity that love can hinder. He caresses them with trembling hands, a mournful plea, Seeking a connection, a memory to decree. The world judges harshly, their voices a condemning cry, But he remains unyielding, his madness soaring high. For in his eyes, she was not just a mere flesh, But a deity he loved beyond his own death. Haunted by her absence, his spirit wilts, Each passing day, his sanity tilts. He wanders the streets, a pariah outcast, Carrying the burden of his horrific repast. In the depths of his despair, a flicker of remorse, A realization that his actions were coarse. But forgiveness eludes him, his soul forever stained, By the love he destroyed, the life he profaned.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐋 ─ ♕ . ♡𝆬

Her touch, a gentle breeze caressing, Awakening dreams, with blessings blessing. Her laughter, music to his ears, Dispelling sorrows, quenching fears. He led her through the throne room's grace, Where tapestries depicted their embrace. A queen, a goddess, his heart's desire, He'd fallen for her with burning fire. Her virtues, pure as driven snow, Her kindness warmed him, made his soul glow. He worshipped her, not as a mortal maid, But as a celestial being, unafraid. He'd bow his head to gaze into her eyes, Seeing heaven's reflection, a paradise. Her hair, a silken waterfall so fine, Cascading gently, entwined like vines. He'd whisper sonnets filled with fervent praise, Exalting her beauty, a celestial maze. Her smile, a radiant dawn's embrace, A sight that stole his breath, a timeless trace. In hallowed halls, he held her close and dear, His love for her unwavering, crystal clear. He sought her pleasure, her utmost joy, Delighting in her presence, without alloy. The courtly whispers echoed through the halls, Of a king's devotion that shattered all walls. He'd consecrate his realm to her name, His love eternal, an unquenchable flame.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ─ ⛥ . ♡𝆬

Her presence, a perfume, sweet and ethereal, A celestial melody, soft and ethereal. Her voice, a symphony, enchanting and pure, A tender whisper that his every desire lures. Her eyes, a universe of dreams unfurled, Where constellations dance and stardust's whirled. Their gaze, a spell that binds him forevermore, A love profound that knows no bounds nor shore. Her touch, a brush of paradise on his skin, As if a seraph's touch had come to kin. It sparks a flame within, a fire that burns bright, An ardent devotion, day and darkest night. He marvels at her wisdom, deep and true, Her spirit, soaring like an eagle's view. Her grace and poise, a celestial art, A masterpiece of nature, a treasure from the start. He sees not flaws, but only radiant light, A goddess descended from celestial heights. His heart, her temple, where he offers his all, A sanctuary of devotion, an eternal thrall. In her embrace, he finds solace and rest, A sanctuary where his weary soul is blessed. Her laughter echoes through his world like a chime, Dispelling shadows, restoring hope sublime. With every glance, his love grows stronger yet, A tapestry woven with threads of pure delight. He sings her praises, a poet's soul unfurled, For she is his goddess, the jewel of his world.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 ─ ♬ . ♡𝆬

In his eyes, she was a goddess fair, Her presence graced his world beyond compare. Like a beacon in the darkest night, Her love ignited a flame so bright. He adored her every move, Her laughter filled his heart with glee. Her touch sent shivers down his spine, A reminder of her beauty, divine. His thoughts were filled with her allure, Each moment spent with her, he cherished pure. Her smile, a balm for weary eyes, Her presence, a solace, a gentle prize. He danced to her every whim, His heart her captive, forever dim. Her desires, his command, Her worship, his sacred brand. He painted her in vibrant hues,Her eyes twinkled like distant dews. Her skin, like velvet, soft and smooth, He loved her with a passion, uncouth. In his shrine, her image stood tall, A symbol of his devotion, his all. He whispered prayers to her at night, Begging for her constant, eternal light. Her every breath was like a song, Her voice carried melodies that danced along. He would listen for hours, transfixed, In her presence, his soul grew rich.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 ─ ✉ . ♡𝆬

With each stolen glance, a symphony played, A melody woven from the threads of her gaze. Her ivory skin, a canvas for his desire, A tapestry adorned with embers of fire. Her voice, a celestial choir soaring high, Whispering truths that made his spirit fly. Her presence, a celestial balm, so sweet, A refuge from the storms that raged at his feet. In her eyes, he saw his own reflection, A mirror of his soul's hidden perfection. She held his broken pieces with gentle care, Rekindling a flame that had once burned bright. Her laughter, a sparkling cascade of bliss, Banishing shadows with its ethereal kiss. Her smile, a beacon that guided him through, A radiant sunrise illuminating the true. With trembling hands, he touched her silken hair, Like brushing petals, a touch beyond compare. Her every gesture, a masterpiece unfurled, An endless canvas where his love unfurled. He worshiped her beauty, an eternal vow, A sacred flame that forever would glow. Her body, a temple, a vessel divine, A haven where his soul would forever entwined. Lost in the labyrinth of her embrace, His heart found solace, a tranquil space. She was his muse, his inspiration eternal, His goddess, his guiding star, his celestial eternal.

@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.

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yuujispinkhair · 1 year

Text

Double cream filling for Valentine's Day

You celebrate Valentine's Day with your boyfriends Yuuji and Sukuna. But while you bought filled chocolate for your boys, they have another kind of filling for you.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) x Yuuji Genre: smut and fluff, modern AU Word Count: 6k Warnings: 18+, smut, poly, oral, fingering, double penetration (reader receives vaginal and anal at the same time), praise, mouth-spitting, cum-eating, taking pictures and filming during sex. Reader is in a poly relationship with Yuuji and Sukuna. This is a modern AU with no curses. Yuuji and Sukuna are just two regular guys. This is very self-indulgent, but I hope some of you will enjoy it too :) All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

The city around you looks like one big candy store. Shop windows are stacked with pretty chocolate boxes and heart-shaped decorations. Everything is red and pink, just like your outfit of the day. You smile as you pull your coat tighter against your body. The short pink dress you wear underneath is a bit too cold for this time of year, but it looks so pretty, and you want to look extra good for your date with Yuuji and Sukuna.

You can't help but smile as you continue your walk towards the street corner where you will meet your boyfriends. In your hand, you carry a bag filled with prettily wrapped chocolate gift boxes. Dark chocolate filled with cherry.

But you know the real gift is something else. Your boys will only be allowed to unwrap it once you are back home. Underneath your pink dress, you are wearing the cutest underwear. Red lace with pretty gold accents and a cute little heart charm dangling on a thin chain between your breasts.

A fluttery feeling washes over you as you imagine how the three of you will spend this Valentine's Day together. First, go on your romantic date and then end the day in bed, showering each other with all the love you have.

Your heart is racing, and giddy excitement fills you as you round the corner.

And then your breath catches for a moment when your gaze lands on the tall, muscular figure of one of your boys.

Sukuna.

He looks strikingly gorgeous in a fine black suit with a red dress shirt and black tie. His pink hair is slicked back in his usual style, and the sexy smirk on his handsome face alone is enough to make your head spin.

He looks sexy, confident, and a bit dangerous with those black tattoos lining his face. A gorgeous but intimidating man. But you know that there is a softness underneath that arrogant mask.

You can see some of it now, as Sukuna's smirk turns into a dazzling smile when his gaze lands on you.

"Hey, princess."

He greets you with one of his sexy kisses, his hand cupping your chin and tilting your face upwards, soft lips moving against yours in a slow sexy caress before his tongue slips into your mouth and drives you insane with that trademark sensual tongue flick.

You can feel the grin on his lips when he moves down to your neck, trailing kisses over your skin, not caring about how indecent this may look to the people walking past you.

When he pulls away, you realize he's holding a dark red rose which he offers you with his typical seductive smile.

"You look beautiful, darling."

"Thank you, Kuna. You look gorgeous too."

You can see the way his face softens at your words, can see that particular tender expression in his maroon eyes that tells you how much he cares about you. His velvety voice sends shivers down your spine when he leans closer and tells you,

"Happy Valentine's Day. I love you."

You will never get enough of hearing his sexy low voice breathe those words to you. His lips find yours in another slow kiss, only parting long enough to let you whisper your love back to him.

When you part, there is this small tender smile on his handsome face again, and you feel much warmer in your little outfit than a few minutes ago.

And then Sukuna's beautiful gaze slips to a point behind you, and you know exactly who he sees, from the way his expression looks almost love-drunk.

You smile. It always makes you feel so warm to see how smitten Sukuna is with Yuuji. Seeing that bad boy with the tattoos and intimidating personality go all soft when he sees your sweet sunshine boyfriend.

Both you and Sukuna adore Yuuji. He is the light of both of your lives. How lucky you are that Yuuji shines so bright that he has enough warmth for both of you.

You turn around to follow Sukuna's gaze, and there he is: Beautiful Yuuji, walking towards the two of you with his typical large, fast steps and that broad smile on his pretty face.

He attracts everyone's attention without even noticing it. So oblivious to the effect he has on others. Your heart jumps to your throat as you take him in. He is gorgeous, his pretty face alight with his sunshine smile, honey-colored eyes filled with so much warmth and happiness, glowing golden in the sunlight. His tan cheeks are already flushed with a cute blush, so excited and eager to see his girlfriend and boyfriend.

He's also dressed in a black suit and tie but with an orange shirt. You can't help but lick your lips at the sight. Yuuji isn't aware of his own sexiness, not like Sukuna. But he is very sexy. He looks downright mouth-watering in the tailored suit that sits perfectly snug on his tall and buff figure, showing off his muscular arms and the perfect v-shape of his strong body. A body packed with firm muscles, so strong and athletic. A body that can keep you so perfectly safe and warm and strong arms that can easily lift you and bounce you on his dick.

You draw in a breath at the thought. But right now, those strong arms are carrying a large bouquet of red and pink roses while Yuuji is smiling his brightest sunshine smile. He laughs when he stops in front of you, all smiles and sparkling golden eyes,

"Heyyy, happy Valentine's Day, my loves!"

The large bouquet gets shoved into your hands, and then the air almost gets knocked out of you as Yuuji wraps his arms around you and pulls you against him, greeting you with a tight hug. You chuckle as you get pressed against his buff chest. It's so sweet how eager Yuuji is, how happy to see you, not even trying to play it cool.

You smile up at him, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him sweetly. Yuuji's kisses are always as sweet as candy. Tender and loving, but also sexy, unable to hide how much he wants you. You melt into his strong arms, opening your lips to let him lick sweetly into your mouth.

When you pull away, Sukuna is standing behind Yuuji, wrapping his arms around your boyfriend from behind and greeting him with a kiss on the side of his neck right above the collar of his dress shirt.

"Happy Valentine's Day to you too, sweetheart."

Sukuna sounds smug as he suddenly lifts a tattoed hand and lets a single red rose on a red gift ribbon dangle down over Yuuji's shoulder.

Yuuji's pretty honey eyes widen, and he makes the cutest sound. A little surprised gasp that turns into a happy laugh,

"Aww, Kuna! Did you get me a rose too? Thank you, baby. You're such a gentleman!"

Yuuji lets his head fall back against Sukuna's shoulder and smiles at him, looking so pretty that your heart clenches. You chuckle when Yuuji makes a kissy gesture with his lips and bats his eyelashes until Sukuna captures his lips in a sweet kiss.

The second surprise is for Sukuna, though, because once he lets go of Yuuji again, your sunshine boy reaches into his suit jacket to pull out a single pink rose, which he hands to Sukuna with a broad grin.

"I got one for you too. I felt bad about only getting flowers for my girl. So I bought a rose for my boy too."

He laughs and winks at Sukuna as long fingers with black nail polish carefully take the rose from him.

You watch your boys with an amused grin before reaching into your bag to get their gifts. The chocolates and, to everyone's amusement, a rose for each of them.

Sukuna grins at you,

"So we all got roses for each other, huh? I didn't expect to get flowers too."

Yuuji rolls his pretty eyes at him.

"What do you mean, Kuna? Of course, you get roses too! You are our prince, too, after all!"

"And I thought I am your king."

Sukuna drawls with a shit-eating smirk that makes you laugh while Yuuji groans and adds,

"Yeah, ok...I guess you are our king."

Sukuna laughs triumphantly, obviously very pleased with the answer. His maroon gaze wanders from Yuuji to you, and the smirk playing around his lips is so sexy that it makes you a little weak.

"Come on, you don't want to miss our date, do you?"

He takes the lead, offering both of you a hand, all gentlemanly, making butterflies flutter in your stomach, and judging by the look in Yuuji's eyes, he feels the same way.

Yuuji and you each take one of Sukuna's arms, letting him pull you along. You like how people turn their heads as the three of you walk down the street. You know you must look impressive. Two tall, gorgeous pink-haired guys, one with scary-looking tattoos, the other with a sunshine smile. And a girl with a pink dress and a happy grin on her face. All three dressed up in their best clothes, truly looking like some celebrities, or as Sukuna likes to put it: The king with his prince and princess.

"Whoaaa Kuna are you for real?? You got a table for us here?"

Yuuji stares open-mouthed at the shiny entrance to one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city.

When Sukuna said he was in charge of picking a restaurant for tonight, you definitely didn't expect to end up in this glamorous place. You smile at him,

"I have no idea what you had to do to book this table, but thank you, Kuna. It's perfect!"

Your heavily tattoed boyfriend smirks at you, shrugging casually as if it's no big deal. But he looks so proud and smug that it's clear he has been gleefully looking forward to seeing your and Yuuji's reaction.

He lifts an elegant eyebrow, and his low voice sounds amused when he says,

"Oh, let's just say I do whatever is necessary to provide for my prince and my princess."

The dinner is just as fancy and delicious as you hoped. It's the perfect evening. The three of you sip expensive red wine and eat the finest food while chatting about everything and nothing.

And all the while, there is this excited buzz between you. This giddy anticipation of where this evening will lead. It's not the first time the three of you go on a date together, of course. But tonight is special somehow. All three of you are dressed up in your finest clothes and got each other flowers and chocolates on this day that is there to celebrate your love.

You are holding hands with Yuuji on the table, smiling as his thumb strokes absentmindedly over your wrist. And Sukuna's large hand is resting on your knee, slowly wandering up your thigh.

You watch with heart-eyes as Sukuna laughs at something Yuuji says before leaning over the table, cupping Yuuji's cheek, and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

It's always been like that between the three of you right from the start. You smile to yourself as you remember the night you met. That night when your friends dragged you to a club where you didn't really enjoy yourself until that pretty pink-haired boy with the sunshine smile accidentally spilled his drink over you and apologized for ten minutes straight while helping you clean your bag and trying to dry your shirt.

You hadn't been able to tear your gaze away from his pretty face and defined biceps, thinking that you were thankful for the drink he spilled if it meant meeting this gorgeous guy who was so charming and sweet.

And then he turned to the bartender asking for a towel, and the two of you were met by a sexy smirk and amused maroon eyes, and a sexy low voice telling you that the best way to forget about a wet shirt was to drink more until you forgot about the little accident. Two tattoed hands had shoved shot glasses of vodka your way,

"The rest of the drinks you have tonight are on me."

And you and Yuuji had both stared a bit dazedly at the sexy tattoed bartender, thanking him profusely only to watch that irresistible smirk grow even wider. And then he leaned over the bar to put a long finger under both your and Yuuji's chin and told you,

"But only if I get both of your phone numbers."

You smile at the memory, putting your hand on top of Sukuna's on your thigh and interlacing your fingers with his, just like you are holding Yuuji's hand on top of the table.

"Thank you for this beautiful date and the flowers. I am so happy to be here with the two of you."

You tell them with a voice thick with happiness and love, giggling when both of your boys lean closer at the same time and each presses a sweet, warm kiss to your cheek.

The flowers and chocolate gift boxes are strewn over the apartment floor, just like the boys' suit jackets, as the three of you stumble towards the bedroom, caught in each other's embrace, lips finding each other to kiss and lick and, in Sukuna's case, bite.

A pair of strong warm hands is on your ass, kneading it through your dress while soft, eager lips move against yours in a sweet needy kiss and a silky tongue licks yours in deep loving caresses. Sweet Yuuji. It's so cute how enamored he is with your ass.

And a second pair of firm hands is cupping your tits through your dress, slipping long fingers into the neckline to tease the swell of your breasts with slow caresses while Sukuna's tongue is gliding seductively over your neck, making you shiver from the sexy feeling of his tongue piercing on your skin. You love how his tall, muscular body presses against you from behind, letting you feel his big hard bulge.

You moan into Yuuji's mouth as his hands slip under your dress, pulling it up, brushing over the lace of your panties, and kneading your ass firmly. You can feel his hard cock too, rubbing against your belly where it's straining needily against his suit pants.

You gasp into his mouth, head spinning from the feeling of your two tall, strong boyfriends having you in their middle, caressing and kissing you, slowly undressing you while their hard cocks rub against you from both sides.

Their lips leave your skin only to meet in a hungry open-mouthed kiss across your shoulder, both moaning softly into each other's mouth. You watch them with a pounding heart. Yuuji and Sukuna always look so sexy together, their matching pink hair so pretty, their tall buff figures so beautiful, and the love and desire they feel for each other so shamelessly on display for your hungry eyes.

You can't help but get on your tiptoes to press a loving kiss first to Sukuna's cheek, then to Yuuji's, letting them know how loved they are and how much you love seeing them kissing.

Your smile turns into a breathless moan when they both turn their heads, and suddenly two pairs of soft lips are on you, playfully fighting to kiss you. It ends in a sexy wet kiss where three tongues lick at each other, threads of spit connecting all three of you in a sexy slick web.

Yuuji is the first to moan a horny-sounding,

"I love you both so much."

And you and Sukuna both answer at the same time, voices thick with feelings and desire,

"We love you too, baby."

Sukuna presses his body tightly against yours from behind. His lips glide over your neck, licking and sucking, making you tremble in his strong arms. His hands hook in the straps of your dress, pulling them down over your shoulders as his lips kiss a trail over your naked shoulders.

Yuuji's tongue tangles with yours, tenderly kissing you as his strong hands slip between your back and Sukuna's abs to play with the zipper of your dress.

He presses one last sweet kiss to your lips before pulling away with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Please, let us see what's underneath that cute dress. Can we undress you, cutie?"

His eyes are burning with desire and love, and you can't stop yourself from trembling as pleasure throbs through you at the way he looks at you.

You nod and smile at him, all horny and dazed,

"Yes, baby. Please unwrap your gift."

You can feel Sukuna's grin on your neck, teeth grazing your skin. And Yuuji's pupils dilate as he licks his lips and tugs on the zipper of your dress, pulling it all the way down.

Your two boyfriends undress you together, letting your pretty pink dress fall down to the floor where it pools around your feet, and you step out of it, leaving you only in the sexy red underwear you bought for today.

Your pulse flutters as your boys step away from you, and you instantly miss the warm shelter of their solid bodies as you get exposed to the slightly cooler temperature of the room. Your body is brimming with excitement at knowing Yuuji's and Sukuna's eyes are on you now.

Yuuji's moan makes your pussy twitch. He stares at you, big honey eyes filled with adoration as they wander hungrily over your body.

"Oh fuck, cutie, you look so hot! Kuna, look at her...look at our girl!"

Yuuji's strong hands land on your hips, gently turning you around so you face Sukuna. Yuuji's thumbs caress the skin right at the hem of your panties, making you moan softly and let your head fall back against his broad chest.

Your gaze meets Sukuna's, and you almost moan again at the desire you see there. His maroon eyes are heavy-lidded with lust as they slowly trail over your body.

Sukuna's voice is warm and raspy, sounding so sexy that it makes you press your thighs together as he reaches out to cup your jaw and lean closer to you,

"Our princess is seducing us, hm? So sexy. Such a sweet Valentine's Day gift you are."

His lips capture yours, kissing you languidly with deep, slow strokes of his tongue.

Yuuji is moaning softly against your neck where his lips are now, kissing so sweetly while his large hands wander over your body, caressing every inch of naked skin they can reach, cupping your tits through your bra, squishing them gently as he presses his hardness against your ass, needy and cute.

"Fuck...baby...I need you. Need to have you on my dick."

His fingers toy with the heart-shaped cut out in the back of your lacey panties, gently caressing the crack between your butt cheeks, a loving, teasing touch. And you tremble in his arms, moaning into Sukuna's mouth as you lean back against Yuuji's muscular body, letting him steady you, trusting him to hold you.

You can feel Yuuji's thick hot cock twitch even through his pants. You know what he craves, and you want it too. You grind your ass slowly against his erection, rubbing against him until he moans brokenly,

"Oh fuckkkk... please, baby. Can I please be in your cute ass?"

Sukuna chuckles softly as he pulls away from the kiss with his typical sexy tongue flick. His words are directed at Yuuji, but his eyes look deeply into yours while doing so, driving you crazy with need,

"You can have her cute ass, baby. And I will take care of that pretty pussy. Let's give our sweet girl a nice cream filling for Valentine's Day. Would you like that, princess? Getting filled like that chocolate you bought us?"

His smirk is devilish, but his voice is thick with lust, and his maroon eyes are full of love as his long fingers pull down your bra, making your tits spill out.

You feel so light-headed, heart hammering wildly in your chest, skin so sensitive to every touch, pussy wet and needy for their cocks.

You know your eyes must look feverish as you gaze back at Sukuna and nod,

"Yes... please, I want the two of you to fill me up until I'm overflowing."

Sukuna and Yuuji carry you to the large bed, gently placing you on top of the dark red bedsheets. For a moment, all three of you end up in an overeager tangle of limbs, kissing and caressing impatiently. Three people who are all crazy for each other, longing to touch and fuck and love each other and be as close to each other as possible.

But Sukuna is the one who takes control again and captures your wrists, wrapping his strong large hands around them and pressing you down on the bed. He fixes you there with his firm grip as he leans over you, his tie tickling your naked tits where he pulled your bra down.

"Lie back, sweetheart, and let us admire you a bit."

Yuuji appears next to him, already holding up his phone and giving you that cute pouty look, asking permission to snap pictures of you in your lacey red underwear.

You smile at him and bite your lip as you nod and look directly into the camera. It makes you feel so desired to see how he is sticking his tongue out, eyes glazed over with lust, his pretty face so cute when it's filled with that horny stupid expression.

He always begs you to please let him take sexy pictures of you, giving you the cutest pouty look out of those pretty golden eyes. Of course, by now, he has lifelong permission to do so.

You feel even more cream gather between your thighs as you smile for the camera, arousal making your pussy throb for your two sexy boys.

"Why don't you take a video too, sweetheart?"

Sukuna suggests in his smooth velvety voice as he leans closer and lets a tattoed hand trail down your body. You're breathing hard, and your body is tingling everywhere his long fingers caress you. His hand slips into your red panties to rub two fingers slowly over your wet clit, eliciting a loud, needy moan from you while Sukuna grins smugly into the camera.

He has you on the brink of orgasm only a short while later, your hips bucking and desperate whines falling from your lips while Yuuji still films you. But before you can tumble over the edge, Sukuna pulls away, trailing his fingers, which are now wet with your pussy cream, all the way up over your stomach and tits before he pushes his thumb between your lips,

"Open up, sweet thing."

You do so obediently, opening your mouth, eyes looking up at Sukuna, who towers over you, sexy and dominant. He smirks, pierced tongue sticking out before he spits in your mouth, letting his spit slowly drip down into your waiting mouth.

"Good girl."

You close your lips to swallow his spit, head spinning from the display of ownership and the praise you receive.

You watch dazedly as Sukuna turns to Yuuji now, placing his fingers which are coated with your cream, on Yuuji's mouth, rubbing them gently over Yuuji's lips, spreading your slick over them like lipgloss.

Yuuji is moaning while Sukuna smiles,

"So pretty. Lick it all up, my sweet prince. Doesn't our princess taste delicious?"

His fingers slip into Yuuji's mouth while his own lips close around Yuuji's neck, sucking on his skin, leaving hickeys all over the tan skin.

It always arouses you to see how possessive Sukuna is of the two of you. Marking you up with his spit and his hickeys, and his cum.

You feel so taken care of by him, knowing he looks lovingly after what is his.

Yuuji pushes the phone into your hands, and now it's your turn to watch and film your two lovers playing with each other.

They undress each other while sharing sexy hungry kisses. Strong hands tangle in each other's matching pink hair as their tongues stroke each other, and their muscular bodies move against each other. They look beautiful together. Large hands loosen ties and take them off, unbutton shirts, open belts, and trousers.

The same hands find their loving path over buff pecs and defined abs and slip down to matching red boxer briefs, freeing their gorgeous cocks. Both of your boys gasp into each other's mouths when their freed cocks rub against each other, mixing their pre-cum and smearing it all over each other's hard length.

You moan out needily as you watch them take each other into their hands, pumping each other's cock slowly while they make out with open-mouthed needy, messy kisses that make the spit drool down their chins. Just like the thick pearls of pre-cum oozing out of their slits and trickling down their gorgeous fat mushroom heads, both as pretty as everything else about them.

You almost cum when Sukuna runs his fingertips teasingly slow around Yuuji's twitching, thick pink cockhead smearing his pre-cum all over him and whispering to him,

"So hard and ready to fuck her so good, baby. Be my good boy and prepare her tight little hole. Make our princess nice and loose for your big cock."

He smiles when Yuuji moans needily, and his hips buck helplessly, fucking himself into Sukuna's large hand. Sukuna strokes him lovingly, spoiling him a bit more until Yuuji is sobbing from lust.

But he isn't the only one close to losing his mind. You watch with hungry eyes as Yuuji pats Sukuna's hand away with a shaky groan and pushes him down on the bed. Sukuna groans and you smile. You know that he loves how strong Yuuji is. He loves knowing that Yuuji could hold him down and fuck him if he wanted to, but he is willingly such a submissive, sweet thing for Kuna.

Right now, that sweet submissive boy massages Sukuna's thick muscular thighs with his strong hands as Yuuji's face hovers over Sukuna's twitching hard cock.

All three of you moan when Yuuji wraps his pink lips around the thick mushroom head of Sukuna's cock, looking up at him with those big honey eyes like such a sweet boy as he sucks lovingly on the thick cock in his mouth.

The groan coming from Sukuna's mouth is raw and sexy, showing how affected he is and how close he is to losing control in Yuuji's sweet, warm mouth. His fingers tangle in Yuuji's hair, keeping him in place,

"You're so good at that, baby. But don't make me nut just yet. I wanna bust the first one in that cute princess pussy."

You feel dizzy. You are so wet that your panties stick to your creamy folds. Yuuji's phone almost slips out of your hands when two pairs of desire-filled brown eyes meet yours. Honey and maroon.

Your breath comes out in needy huffs as your two gorgeous boys crawl over to you, both towering over you, so tall and big with their beautiful muscled bodies and thick leaking cocks, dripping pre-cum onto your belly.

The phone falls from your grasp. Your hands trail over Yuuji's and Sukuna's muscular backs, tracing the buff muscles before you run your fingertips over the stubble of their undercuts and then slip into their matching pink hair on top, running your fingers through it as you get engulfed by the warm heavy bodies of your boyfriends pressing you down on the bed.

Yuuji's lips find yours kissing you sweetly, tasting like Sukuna's pre-cum. You flick your tongue against his, moaning and licking up Sukuna's taste from his tongue before a strong hand pulls you away, and then Sukuna's lips are on yours, kissing you deep and demanding.

You stay like that for a moment, hands caressing their undercuts and tugging on their pretty pink hair while kissing them both, switching from one mouth to the next and back again. It's sloppy, wet, and hungry, full of raw need for each other. Full of the most intense love you have ever felt.

Needy moans slip out of your mouth as strong hands open your bra and pull down your panties, leaving you naked and wet, ready to get fucked by your boys.

Warm hands wander over your naked skin. You can't even tell whose hand is doing what. Someone plays with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers and gently tugging on them.

The other trails his fingers over your pussy lips, rubbing your slick over them before the other's hand joins, and one of them spreads your pussy lips tenderly for the other, letting him caress your clit slowly, circling it lovingly and teasingly slow, sending shock waves of pleasure through your body as your hips lift and buck needily.

You are melting under their touches, moaning and panting as you give yourself completely to Sukuna and Yuuji, knowing you can trust them to take care of you like no one else could.

Soon you are lying on your side, nestled between Yuuji's and Sukuna's strong bodies. Moaning at the feeling of their warm muscles and rock-hard cocks pressing against you from both sides.

Yuuji is preparing your ass for his fat cock, fucking you gently open with a lubed-up finger. You are trembling and moaning helplessly as he plays sweetly with your tight rim, circling it slowly before gently dipping a fingertip into your heat. Gradually slipping deeper, loosening you up thoroughly while his leaking cock rubs against your back, smearing his hot pre-cum over your skin in his excitement to be inside you soon.

His kisses are hot and sexy on your neck, and his voice is a horny moan,

"Fuck yeah, that's our sweet girl. Can't wait to feel your cute little hole milking me 'til I cum."

His words and fingers make you cry out needily, but it gets muffled by Sukuna's mouth, claiming your lips in a hot deep kiss while his strong hands caress your tits and pinch your nipples. His lips leave your mouth only to travel down your neck and to your tits, sucking on your nipples, grazing them with his teeth, before his journey further down your body continues.

You moan desperately when Sukuna's hot lips close around your swollen clit, sucking gently on it while his hands grab your ass cheeks and spread them open further for Yuuji.

Sukuna's tongue piercing rubs slowly over your clit, teasing you until your little bud is all stiff and swollen, every slow lick making your hips buck and making you cry and sob uncomprehendingly about how much you love him and Yuuji.

His middle and ring fingers push into your creamy pussy, joining Yuuji's fingers which are fingering your ass. You whine in pleasure at the feeling of getting fingered by your two sexy boys at the same time, feeling so full and so claimed by those two as they pump their thick fingers into your holes.

"K..Kuna! Yuujiii! Ah...ah...I'm gonna c..."

They stop instantly, both breathing heavily against your naked skin, and Sukuna's low velvety voice whispers to you,

"Not yet, princess. You're gonna cum on our cocks, not on our fingers."

And Yuuji adds in a deep horny voice,

"Yeah, cutie, you're gonna milk our cum out of us with your orgasm."

You're a sobbing mess when they pull their fingers out of you, making your holes flutter at the loss of being stuffed by them.

But two loving pairs of strong arms are there for you, holding you as Sukuna rolls onto his back and pulls you with him. You are boneless in their strong arms, dizzy with pleasure as Yuuji whispers sweet praise to you and helps you straddle Sukuna's lap and sink down on his thick twitching cock,

"Yeah, just like that, cutie. You're such a good girl for us. Look at you, taking Kuna's cock so well. Looks so pretty when your sweet pussy gets spread open by his gorgeous cock. Ride him, sweetie. I love hearing him moan for you."

You're moaning too as you feel Sukuna's firm grip on your waist, and he starts bouncing you on his thick length. You roll your hips down onto him, riding him slowly, gasping when his cockhead kisses your sweet spot deep inside you.

Low, sexy moans fall from Sukuna's parted lips, but his eyes are open, watching Yuuji, who's kneeling behind you,

"Join us, my pretty prince. Give her your cock too."

Sukuna's large hands wander to your ass, kneading it firmly and spreading your cheeks apart, exposing your lubed-up entrance to Yuuji. You gasp when you hear the growl coming from your sunshine boy.

And then Yuuji's thick cockhead prods at your lubed-up rim, gently fucking you open just with his swollen tip. He is always so sweet with you, always so gentle and careful not to hurt you, holding back for you even though he must be so horny that he's close to busting at the thought of fucking your tight ass.

"I'll go slow, baby...ah! Oh, fuck! You suck me in so good, oh fuck! Is it ok, cutie? Are you ok?"

At this point, your mind is hazy, thoughts clouded by lust and need. Your eyes close as you reach behind you to grab a handful of Yuuji's pink hair and pull on it, making him lean down until his lips brush against yours, and you whisper against his mouth,

Yes...please fuck me, baby."

He moans and captures your lips in a sweet loving kiss while he slowly pushes his thick cock deeper into you.

Sukuna's low moan joins yours.

"Fuck, the two of you are so cute."

His hands are on your thighs, caressing them soothingly as he lets you adjust to the feeling of both of their cocks inside you.

You tense up for a moment as Yuuji pushes his fat mushroom head fully inside you, stretching your ass open around him, making you feel almost too full next to Sukuna's cock in your pussy.

But both of your boyfriends are there for you, soothing, loving, and taking care of you so sweetly.

Sukuna runs his hands over your back, pulling you down and hugging you tightly to his buff chest. Yuuji rubs your ass cheeks tenderly, his voice sweet and sexy as he whispers praise to you,

"You're doing so well, cutie. I love you so much. Such a sweet girl."

You can hear the smile in his words, but then another low moan falls from his lips as he rolls his hips, sinking even deeper into your ass, fucking his fat cock into you with deep, tender thrusts.

You feel so taken care of between their solid bodies. They both fuck their hot cocks into you, moving in sync, making you moan both their names.

Sukuna's strong arms encircle you and then reach behind you, and you know that he is cupping Yuuji's ass, kneading that firm cute backside as he pulls him even closer against your back.

"Yeah, come here, baby, fuck her deeper. Yeah, just like that, my sweet boy. I can feel how good you fuck her. Can feel your cock through her walls."

It draws a desperate sob from Yuuji, all cute and needy,

"Fuckkk so tight, baby! Ah Kuna, oh fuck, baby! Yeah, I can feel your dick too!"

All three of you give yourself to each other, filling the bedroom with your moans and I love yous, moving against each other as your two boys share you so sweetly.

You feel so warm, so safe, so full. Stuffed by Sukuna's and Yuuji's gorgeous cocks. Their muscles flexing against you, warm, muscular bodies wrapping around you, taking care of you, loving you, claiming you.

You cry from the happiness and love washing over you. When you cum it is so intense that you almost black out. Stars dance before your eyes as you scream in pleasure and your body convulses between your boyfriend's tall, muscular bodies, shuddering around their cocks, as they fuck wave after wave of your orgasm out of you.

They follow you soon after, filling your holes to the brim with their cum. Pumping you full with their thick warm seed until you are overflowing.

You are slumped against Sukuna's tattoed chest, exhausted but filled with euphoria from getting fucked so good, still clenching rhythmically around Sukuna's and Yuuji's thick cocks, making them spill every last drop of their cum into you.

You stay like that for a moment, all three of you breathing heavily, basking in the afterglow before Sukuna and Yuuji pull out of you. Their wet cocks rub against your thighs, making all three of you moan softly.

Messy, sexy kisses follow, all three spent and sighing happily as your horniness slowly subsides and turns into gentle cuddling.

Your gaze meets Yuuji's, and there's a cheeky twinkle in those pretty golden eyes, letting you know that once you catch your breath again, the two of you will join forces to maneuver Sukuna in the middle and spoil him rotten until he's a moaning mess for his princess and his prince.

Valentine's Day isn't over yet.

Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed the date with Yuuji and Kuna and the special cream filling they gave you :) I was losing my mind so much while writing this. It's super self-indulgent, but I hope it was enjoyable for you too!

As so often, when I write for Sukuna, he took over parts of this story, which I hadn't even planned beforehand. Like the part where he spits into reader's mouth. So, please don't blame me. It was all Kuna's fault ;)

Please let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments make me happy!

#sukuna x reader #yuuji x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jjk smut #sukuna #yuuji smut #yuuji fluff #itadori smut #itadori x reader #yuji smut #sukuna x reader x yuuji #yuji x reader

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buckyalpine · 5 months

Note

OKAY!!! Hear me out...

Lemonade AU but holiday drabbles!!

Like the thought of y/n spending Christmas at the Barnes household makes me 😭

Or like y/n forcing Bucky to dress up for Halloween or vice versa 💘💘💘💘 and Winnie can’t help but laugh at their ridiculous costumes

OMG this au is underrated, yessss and we're just in time for Christmas. We love our sweet College Bucky with his pretty older reader (for reference, Bucky is in his early to mid 20's and reader is later 20's to mid 30's or just pick your own ages)

Lemonade Lemonade AU drabble Sour

Bucky spent the whole day with his mama putting up the tree and getting the lights set up outside. His nose and cheeks are red from the cold and he runs straight to you to warm up. You coo at how cute he looks, letting him nuzzle his face into your neck for warmth, sighing contently. He smirks, slipping his icy cold hands up your sweater making you squeal but he doesn't relent, hugging you tighter, stealing all your body heat. Imagine how excited Bucky gets when you come over later in the evening, dressed in the comfiest of clothes; his college sweats and hoodie which you love so much. You giggle at the way he trails behind you as you make your way to the kitchen, letting down the bottle of wine you bought for you and Winnie to share later.

Christmas is in a few days and you've already spoiled him by filling his stocking to the top and he's acts like a little kid, poking and prodding at the little gifts you've wrapped up, blushing whenever you catch him.

"Bucky, put that down, you'll get to see what I got you soon" You shake your head while he pouts, still clutching onto a red box.

"Just one, c'mon" He whines, only setting it down when you tempt him with some hot chocolate. He doesn't want you to lift a finger though so he scoops you up in his arms, plopping you down on the kitchen island before getting started on making some. He knows you love his ma's recipe and he's perfected it, seeing her make it every year, chopping a few slabs of dark and milk chocolate.

"Wan exta marmallows?" His voice is muffled after stuffing about 3 in his mouth and you snort in response, while he blinks at you with his cheeks full.

"Yes please, baby" You kiss his sugary sweet lips while he adds them to your mug, before pouring some for himself as well.

It would not be Christmas without cookies and it's a Barnes holiday tradition. Winnie and Becca join to measure ingredients and roll out dough while George gets started on a roast for dinner. It's absolutely chaotic and you wouldn't want to be anywhere else, surrounded by love in the kitchen, your cheeks heating up every time Bucky tries to sneak in a kiss when no one is looking.

As usual, this wasn't meant to be part of the story BUT imagine on Christmas day, everyone is unwrapping presents and its a house full of wrapping, sparkles, bows, hot chocolate and cookies. Winnie got everyone matching Pj's like she does every year. Steve and his family had joined as well, adding to the madness while Bucky cozies up with you on the couch, the fire place keeping you toasty along with how warm your boyfriend is.

Winnie gives George a knowing smile, the both of them proud of the son they raised, their little boy head over heels in love with you and ready to treat you right. They also know the gift you'd just opened from him isn't what he actually got you.

He brings you your actual gift later that evening when it's just the two of you in his room. A tiny box, wrapped perfectly with a gold bow on top. Everyone knew exactly what Bucky is up to because he'd been planning this for months. Working extra shifts, saving money on the side, anything and everything he could do just for this.

For you.

"Open it" he whispers, nervous while you pull at the bow, the both of you sitting in his bed.

"Jamie-baby, what did you do" You gasp, lifting the box, tears already welling along your lash line. The little diamonds on the tennis bracelet sparkle under the low light with a small note on the inside, reading from your Jamie.

"I-I couldn't get you anything for stocking because I wanted to get you this" He says with a small smile, feeling bad he couldn't spoil you more the way you deserved. "Do you like it?"

You wordlessly nod, biting down on your lip to keep from crying while he takes the box from you because you want him to put it on you. He takes the dainty bracelet, carefully clasping it around your hand, admiring how pretty it looks on you.

"You didn't have to baby" You whisper, sniffling while he pulls you onto his lap, "Bubba, it's too much-

He shuts you up with a kiss, shaking his head.

"It's not too much for you. I wanna spoil you" His puppy eyes are so sincere; you're it for him and he's it for you.

Let's not act like the night doesn't end with you wearing just the tennis bracelet with your hands covering each others mouths to keep your voices down while he-

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years

Text

A continuation of Sweet On You and Sugar, Sugar

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.8k] best friends to lovers, sofa sex, who doesn't have a praise kink?

Honestly, there was a part of Steve that felt somewhat selfish in how the night was evolving.

He had you, his best friend, in his lap, dress pushed up your thighs, long legs over his and your hands in his hair, telling him how you wanted to touch him. It was a fucking wet dream, if he was honest.

And when you had whispered that you didn’t know what you were doing, lips brushing his, a flush over your skin, lips kiss bitten, he felt like a man unravelled. He had to take a deep breath, maybe two, maybe three before he could talk again, chest burning and god, he was painfully hard underneath you.

He knew you’d slept with other guys, but fucking hell he wanted to slap them all across the back of their heads for not taking their time with you, for not showing you how good all this could be. You looked nervous, like you were worried you’d said something wrong and he wondered if he could ever express to you how far from the truth that was.

He felt like he’d taken a shot of espresso, dived off of the edge of the quarry, ran a red light and ripped out of Hawkins, seatbelt off, one hundred and twenty miles an hour, straight to you.

Steve swallowed, wondering if you knew how nervous you made him, how your hands felt in his hair. He wondered if you knew that when you were both sixteen, you’d walked into his backyard one day with a pitcher of pink lemonade in your hands, a cherry red bikini on and that was it.

You’d wrecked him.

“I could teach you,” he whispered, wondering if it was the right thing to say, if he should’ve stopped altogether and not gone any further. ‘Cause you were his best friend and the idea of losing you was more terrifying than anything he’d ever had to take down with a baseball bat.

But he couldn’t fucking stop himself. Not when your lips parted at his words, interest and something else flickering in the dark of your eyes. He wondered if you knew that you were still moving your hips over him, waist twisting from side to side, just a little, just enough for the friction to burn between you both. Steve felt like he needed to put his fist through a wall, dunk his head under water.

He didn’t know he was holding his breath, waiting for an answer, until you said nodded. It rushed out of him like a tidal wave, heart hammering and feeling like he was sixteen again.

“I’d like that,” you murmured, voice coy and Steve had to close his eyes for a second, stars behind his lids, your quiet laugh filling the space between you both.

Bolstered by how flustered he was, you moved again, hips shifting with pressure as you crowded him, pressing a kiss to his top lip first before moving to his bottom. You let your tongue flick over the curve of it, grinning when he muttered out a string of curses that tasted like vodka and lemonade.

“Can you show me?” You blinked prettily, hand hover over the buckle of his belt, heart in your throat, ‘cause if you hadn’t already crossed the line, you were both about to vault over it now.

Steve chest was heaving, eyes fixed on you as if he was waiting for you to change your mind.

“Y’sure?” He asked, hand over yours, fingers twisted as you tapped a lilac painted fingernail over his metal button.

“Pretty sure, Harrington,” you nodded and suddenly everything was moving again.

A little slower now, anticipation building, the room still cloaked in the dark, the only light coming from the one that was left on in the kitchen, it’s faint flow barely flooding in through the archway. It painted stripes of gold over your thighs, a slither of it across one of the boys eyes, turning chocolate brown to caramel.

Your hand found the hem of Steve’s shirt, his answer to your silent question lying in the small tilt of his head and you lifted it as he stretched out his arms for you and the material fell somewhere behind you both, a dull thump against the coffee table.

Hair mussed, eyes wild, bare chested, you took him in. His hands had a vice grip on your waist, fitting perfectly into the dip there, the silky material of tour dress scrunched messily in his grasp, lifting the hem higher and higher until all he saw was skin.

You mouthed at his jaw, his neck, sucking a little bruise there that you know you’d see in the morning, gathering courage from the things you knew what to do, the things you knew felt good. Your nose nudged his as you moved to lips, mouths brushing, eyes closed in bliss.

“You’re so pretty,” you told him, voice breathy, “the prettiest boy.”

And if Steve had any issue with your choice of words, he didn’t say, his breath just fell a little heavier as his hands wandered, palms flats against your hips until they found their way underneath your dress, smoothing over the curve of your ass. His thumb found the edge of your underwear, filling beneath the lace of it and making himself groan.

He cursed, his words tumbling from his lips in a hiss, stretched out in a moan. He was going insane, he thought, he was dreaming surely. But your hands were back on his belt buckle and this time you tapped, once, twice, against the metal. A silent question that he had to answer.

He pulled back to meet your gaze, eyes darker than you’d ever seen then, lips a little swollen and glossy from where he’d pushed them to yours over and over again. You watched him swallow, throat bobbing and the sight of it all make you wanna press your thighs together.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Steve breathed out, eyes softening a little as he lifted a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His palm smoothed down your jaw and you hummed as you leaned into it, happy to feel his touch against you. “We really doing this?”

“You told me that if I said it,” you swallowed hard, nerves and anticipation and ten years of friendship tumbling in your stomach. “That you were mine.”

Steve nodded, fingertips dancing along your jawline, fluttering down the line of your neck as if he didn’t know where he wanted to touch you, as if he couldn’t possibly stop touching you.

“I just don’t wanna fuck this up, don’t wanna disappoint you…”

You were already shaking your head at his words, wondering how the boy in front of you - under you - could possibly think he’d be a let down. You were still shifting over him, rocking yourself against the hard length of him in his jeans, little by little.

“You won’t, you couldn’t,” you replied and well, if you sounded a little desperate, it was only because you’d been in love with Steve for far too long and the seam of his denim jeans was hitting up against exactly where you wanted.

You gave a small tug at his belt, watched in awe as his eyes flashed, his jaw tightened. The muscle there jumped and you wanted to bite down on it but Steve hands found their way to your hips again, fingers digging into the flesh there, just enough to make your jaw a little slack. His head was back against the sofa again, as if it was too much effort to keep it up and he looked at you from under his lashes, eyes hooded.

“Say it,” he whispered, “say it, please.”

Your hand stroked over the leather, the metal buckle that was now warm from where you gripped it. You could feel him against your palm, trapped right under his jeans and warm and hard against you. Steve’s hand was on the move, fingertips smoother up your knee, leaving lightning and heat on your leg until they dipped underneath the edge of your underwear, stroking over the soft, sensitive skin on the crease of your thigh.

It was suddenly so much harder to speak.

“I want you,” you murmured and despite what you’d already said, how you’d already pressed your body and mouth against the boy, this felt like letting go of a life long secret and it burned as it left your lips.

You thought that maybe things would go fast from there, at your words, your admission. Like it did in the movies, like it did in the back of seat of Jeremy Richards car, Kyle Mowbrays basement. All fast hands, hard thrusts, loud moaning.

But Steve just let out a breath, like he’d been holding it as he waited for your answer, before he cupped a hand to the back of your neck and brought you into him. His nose bumped at yours, a little playful before he leaned up from where he was reclined, just enough to dust some kisses over your lips, the corner of your mouth. He whispered his own secret into your skin, voice low and rough.

“I want you too.”

You tugged at his belt with no resistance now, his hands tightening on you as if he needed to steel himself for what was about to happen. The leather slapped against itself, the sound echoing in the large room and the buckle clinked prettily as it fell open. Your hand fumbled with the button, your brow creasing and your heart speeding up but you were stopped by the feel of Steve’s hand covering your own.

His mouth found your throat, sucking a small kiss there, stilling your movements, giving you a bruise that would match his.

“You’re good, babe,” he soothed, feeling the way your hands shook under his own, “I got you, here.”

And with that, he popped the button with deft fingers, his hand moving around yours without taking it away. He let you pull at the zip, teeth on your bottom lip as the sound of it crackled through the air. He nodded against you, nose pressed on the line of your throat, encouraging but never pushy.

You reached for him, tagging at his boxers, feeling him hot and hard and heavy in your palm as you pulled the length of him out. Steve’s response was immediate, his body tensing below you, his moan that he pressed into your neck, open mouthed and panting. He shuffled beneath you, let his jeans shuck down his hips a little and you rubbed your thumb over the tip of him experimentally, eyebrows raising when he bucked into your hand.

“I wanna make you feel good,” you told him, eyes full of doubt, heart hammering like you were sixteen again and this was the first time playing anything other than spin the bottle at some kids' basement party.

“Oh, trust me sweetheart,” Steve groaned, eyes clenched shut, head tipped back, “you are.”

“Show me,” you told him, voice a little pleading and Steve was going insane with it, your little hand still wrapped around him, your pretty words sounding like they came straight from his own personal wet dreams.

“Jus’ give me a minute, huh?” He whispered, voice shot as he tried his fucking hardest not to come all over your hand then and there. “You’re too pretty babe, goddamn, you’re too much.“

You flushed at the praise, body warm, eyes shining and you leaned into him, chasing his lips from where his head was resting against the back of the sofa. Your chest met his and you trapped him in your hand, pressed between both your stomachs and Steve’s fingers were tugging at your underwear, both of you panting into the kiss.

“I wanna touch you,” he groaned, impatient and needy, “wanna make you feel good too, fuck, please.”

You nodded, fast and desperate and he caught the whine that left you with his tongue, licking into your mouth a little dirtier now. You felt him twitch in your palm, and it made you throb, made you feel wild.

“I know, shit, I know,” you gasped, the pad of his thumb running over the cotton of your underwear, down the centre of you, pressing into where you were wet. “Steve, please.”

He wanted to tap your leg, tell you to be a good girl and stand up for him so he could drag the material down your legs, so he could flip up the skirt of your pretty dress and press a kiss to where he wanted to. He wondered if you tasted good everywhere, he wondered what sounds you’d made for him, if the feel of you on his tongue alone would be enough to make him fall apart.

He was pretty fucking sure it would.

But your hand was wrapping itself around him tighter now, moving down to the base of him and squeezing. He could tell your movements were still unsure, could feel it in the way you were holding yourself uptight and stiff but he moaned, an almost whimper falling from his mouth and he reached between you both with his other hand, wrapping it around your own fist.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, voice soft and broken, “Atta girl, fuck.”

His hand covered yours, guiding gently as you fisted your own up and down the length of him. The only sounds were your heavy breathing, Steve’s harsh pants that he pressed into your neck, his lips pushing kisses to your throat and shoulders when he could.

He squeezed you, applying a little more pressure and you did, twisting your wrist a little as you got to his head, thumb stroking over him. His hips lifted into you and you couldn’t help but roll your own back down, meeting him halfway, both groaning with desperation.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Steve cried out, head heavy as he dropped it against your shoulder. “You’re gonna make me come.”

The boy would’ve been embarrassed if it had been anyone else, at how quickly he was falling apart from just the touch of your hand, but it was you. You were new but familiar, you felt exciting and like coming home, new places to touch and kiss, the same warm eyes looking up at him.

You felt like his.

His words had you breathless, your hand fisting over him with more confidence now, palm slick from how excited he was and you gasp ripped through you when Steve’s fingers pulled at the cotton of your underwear, dress rucked up messy at your hips so he could watch how he touched you.

He pushed the material to the side, too blissed out to ask you to stand up so he could take them off of you and you found that you didn’t care one bit. Your arms tangled between your bodies, hands moving over the other as you chased the high you were both so desperate to give.

You felt Steve’s thumb part your folds, swiping through the slick that had gathered, and he groaned, low and deep, his kiss bruising. He held the tip of his finger at your entrance, circling slowly, making you whine and gasp out, nodding your head, turning the kiss messy.

“Please, fuck, please Steve, yes,”

“Yeah?” Steve mumbled, and god, he sounded wrecked, asking you a question you didn’t know the answer to. You just nodded, forehead pressed to his cheek as held you to him, his other hand leaving yours and petting over your hair in an attempt to settle the way you were grinding over him. “S’okay, I got you.”

He slipped his finger into you, eyes gazing in awe at the way you fell apart for him, your reaction immediate. You fisted your hand around his length faster in response, a move that had him moaning, you other hand pushed at the hem of your dress, bringing the material higher across your hips and you hooked a finger around the thin material of your underwear, keeping it out of the way so Steve could slip another digit into you, thumbing at your clit and staring, wide eyed.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart, that’s it, good girl.”

His jaw went slack with your actions, bold despite your previous whispers and secrets of not knowing what to do. You were a fucking vixen on his lap, eyes desperate, lips kiss bitten and chest flushed. He watched one of the straps of your dress slip down your shoulder, taunting and teasing.

He pressed a kiss to the skin it revealed, teeth grazing the edge of your collarbone as he sped up his movements, matching the way your fist was twisting over him, up and down. He could feel your hand shifting against his lower stomach, the muscles there tensing at every pass, every brush.

Steve groaned as you tightened around him, fingers slipping in and out of with ease, thighs shaking, sighing and whimpering prettily at every pass of his thumb over your clit.

“M’close,” you stuttered, lips twisted into a pout as you tried to move a little faster, to try and get a little more of him. Steve.

But he nodded, jaw slack, gaze lustful and lazy, leaning back into the couch again to let you move the way you wanted and he let out the most sinful noise as he watched you ride his fingers, hips twisting and rocking.

Steve felt like he was in fucking fire.

But then you pulled your hand away, just for a second, just long enough for you to lick a wet strip across your fingers before you wrapped them back around him, speeding up your efforts with slick renewal.

He swore his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he was panting, huffing out hot, quick breaths as he flicked his gaze between his fingers inside you, your small hand wrapped around him and the way you were watching him, lashes casting shadows over your cheeks, pink lips parted and pretty, sighing his name.

His free hand grabbed yours, pressing your intertwined fingers to your cheek, cupping you there so he could bring you into him, chests flushed, fingers and hands moving frantic and messy between your bodies and he kissed you as if he’d never get another chance.

Steve couldn’t remember the last time he came that hard. He felt you clench around his fingers, keening into his kiss, legs shaking, bottom lip and wobbling between his as your orgasm hit you. He held you to him, curling his fingers into you to draw out every last moan and gasp he could get, his own body twitching hot underneath you, thighs tightening, liquid heat pooling inside of him.

He came over your hand, hot and messy, your name tumbling from his lips in a low groan, voice wrecked, eyes squeezed shut. You were sure you’d have finger sized bruises on your thighs tomorrow, lilac and rose marks that would match the ones he’d left on your neck.

The room was silent apart from the way you both gasped for air, panting hard into each other, chests heaving and skin a little slick. You both shifted, you underwear snapping back into place and your dress fell back down, pretty across your thighs as Steve slipped his fingers from your carefully.

You closed your eyes at the loss of him, sparks shouting up your spine as he thumbed affectionately over the cotton, humming at how wet the material was. You steadied yourself with a hand on his bare chest, muscles twitching under your touch and before you could lose the bravery you’d gained from his hands on you, you leaned in and caught his lips with yours.

It was a slower kiss, but just as deep, lazy like the night, velvet and sweet. He caught your bottom lip with his, sucked a little, a flick of tongue and teeth as he cupped the back of your head, bringing you closer until your noses were smushed against the others cheek, lips lifting at the corners with a smile.

“I know it’s late,” he murmured, “but we should probably shower, huh?”

His hand caught yours in a way that made your worries fade; the unanswered questions could be said tomorrow, when you were both mussed from sleep, bones lazy, bodies tangled.

Steve was looking at you in a way that told you everything you needed to know.

So you nodded, scrunching your nose at your sticky hands and laughing when he did, but you let him guide you up the stairs with his hand on the small of your back, still burning heat into your skin through your dress. He handed you one of his shirts to wear after your shower, your favourite, his old basketball training shirt, that had his surname printed on the back.

And when you crawled into bed with Steve, skin still damp and smelling like his body wash, he pulled you to his side, arm around you, your head on his chest and the clock was flashing it’s red digits at you, three twenty nine am.

You heard the buzz of cicadas outside, the window open to let in what was left of the summer air, the heat from the afternoon sun still lingering in its breeze and you let it wash over you both, sheets kicked to the bottom of the mattress and limbs intertwined.

“I meant what I said, you know,” Steve whispered, his words soft and pressed into your cheek, just by your ear.

You turned to him, close enough that the tips of your noses almost brushed and you blinked at him sleepily, one hand coming up to smooth the mess of his hair away from his eyes. You urged him to continue with the brush of you lips across his jaw, your head tilted upwards to catch him in an almost kiss.

He closed his eyes at the feel of it, humming prettily at you, his hand soothing circles over your back.

“What I said in the kitchen,” he murmured, voice soft and sleepy, “that I’m yours.”

You pulled back just enough to catch his gaze when he peeked out at you from beneath his lashes. He looked nervous, like everything that happened on the living room couch was a one off, a chance taken between two friends who were fuelled by the leftover effects of cheap beer and weed.

“Don’t want any other girls.”

But you smiled at him, that wide kinda smile that made your lips hurt and your eyes shine. That dimples in your cheeks kinda smile, that heart aching, chest bursting kinda smile.

You twisted your lips to try and hide it, for why you weren’t sure, ‘cause the boy caught it, was looking back at you the same way and you nodded, suddenly coy.

“Good.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington one shot #stranger things fic #stranger things

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1-800-kami · 6 months

Text

SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK .. feat. gojo satoru

.. two star-crossed lovers who make an oath to love each other like they’ve never loved before in their next life.

content: 1.8k words, fem!reader, angst (with a little comfort), first half takes place during chapter 236, (so MAJOR manga spoilers ahead) character death, reincarnation au, gojo is a future lawyer, VERY bittersweet

author's note: it's been a minute since i've last uploaded a fic lmao </3 i've mainly been doing smau's (because they're very fun to do and take less effort) but here's a short gojo fic that's been resting in my drafts for a while. it's a reincarnation au that i wrote while listening to slow dancing in the dark..so enjoy! -kami <3

interact and reblog for a kiss ;)

it’s cold on the battlefield.

the wind nips at your skin until it feels like you’re about to freeze over. you feel the coldness seeping into your skin—entering and traveling up your veins until it eventually reaches your already ice-cold heart.

the scene in front of you feels all too familiar. you’ve seen it a thousand times over in the past–the image plaguing your sleep, turning what’s supposed to be a time to rest into a time of nightmares and waking up in a cold sweat. your lover, gojo satoru, is on the ground, eyes on the precipice of losing its shine. and there’s red, fuck–there’s so much red. a pool of red lies underneath gojo and it’s all you can see.

usually, at this point, you’d wake up, mind all over the place and heart racing. satoru… where’s satoru? you’d panic, feeling the covers for your lover and exhaling a sigh of relief when you find him curled up next to you.

he’d always get up after you, knowing that you’d experience the occasional nightmare of him leaving you. satoru understands this very well. he has nightmares of you leaving him too. he’d make sure to hug your shaking, crying form until your sobs eventually ceased. “i’m right here, love. i’m not going anywhere. i’m the strongest, you know? you should have more faith in me.”

wake up. y/n. this isn’t real, right? wake up. you pinch your skin and dig your nails into your palms, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. except, you don’t wake up, and with the newly made marks etched on your skin lighting your nerves on fire, you realize this isn’t a dream. this time, gojo’s not there to ease your worries and reassure you that he’s alive–that he’s never going to leave your side.

with that realization, you feel yourself moving again. you scream satoru’s name with a voice plagued with nothing but agony and despair. you run over to his side, panic filling your senses when you feel his body and get all the red on your hands. red. it’s never had a negative connotation to you before. there was red on the roses that satoru had given you on valentines day. red on the heart-shaped gold necklace he’d gifted you on your anniversary (that you’ve never taken off since). red on the box of chocolates that he’d given to you on an ordinary day. “what? does there have to be a special occasion to show my girlfriend how much i love her?”

now, your perception of the color red has been tainted for the rest of your life. it’s the only thing you can see, and you want to close your eyes forever just so you don’t have to see that crimson shade ever again. “satoru, you said you’d never leave... you lied to me!”

he coughs weakly, using all his remaining strength to weakly take your hands in his. there’s a small smile on his face, and his peaceful expression only makes you sob harder. an expression that shows that he’s accepted his fate. “gosh, i’m getting your clothes all dirty. i’m sorry, princess…”

“can you promise me something, though? before i’m gone…” he whispers, and you nod your head, ready to do anything for him. “promise me we’ll meet again, okay?”

that catches you off guard. “w…what do you mean?”

“we’ll meet again, in another life, and i’ll love you all over again.” he smiles cheekily, and you hold his hand a little tighter, sobs racking your core and making your entire body shake. “have you ever imagined living a normal life? a life where sorcerers and curses are all alien words, and i’m not “the strongest”?…a life where i’m just like everyone else, and i get to marry you because no shitty higher-ups are holding me back anymore. god, i think about that all the time. i’ve realized that i’d like that version of life with you more than anything.”

you think that everyone in the jujutsu society has had that thought at least once. sometimes, the idea of being an ignorant civilian unknowingly living in a world filled with curses and despair seemed preferable. and yet, you’ve chosen to be a sorcerer, and perhaps this is the worst part to it. constantly losing the ones you’ve held closest to your heart–all to protect a group of people who aren’t even remotely aware of the sacrifices that sorcerers have made so that they can live a normal life.

“i’ve always wanted that too, s’toru.” you whisper, in fear of your voice breaking if you speak too loudly. “yeah… a regular life without curses. what do you think it’ll be like?”

“hm… let me think. i’ve always wanted to be a dad, y’know?” satoru teases, and the two of you are lost in your own world as you both envision a life where you can be together without any repercussions. “megumi doesn’t count, cause ‘m not his biological dad. i want a little me running around in a house that we’ve worked so hard to buy. and who knows? maybe we’ll have more kids. maybe one or two more-”

“three kids?! that’s a lot, satoru.” you say in mock surprise, though you can’t expect less from your boyfriend. “hey.. does that mean we’ll get married?”

“of course, sweetheart. you’re the only love i’ve ever known. ‘m sorry i have to leave you like this. but i’ll come back for you in our next life, okay?” he hisses as he uses all his strength to grip your shaky hands a little tighter. you can tell his adrenaline’s wearing off, but you’re not ready to let go.

i’ll come back for you in our next life.

every second you’ll spend waiting for satoru seems like an eternity. “i’ll propose to you with a beautiful ring ‘nd you’ll be…”

he coughs up a little bit of blood, voice hoarse and barely holding on. yet, gojo persists on using whatever strength he has to talk to you.

“you’ll be y/n gojo. i like the sound of that…” he whispers, and both of you know that his time has run out. the red on your skin is beginning to dry, and it feels like it’s tainted you forever. “i love you, princess.”

“i love you too, satoru. i’ll see you soon.” gojo’s grip on your hands loosen. you whisper his name again, looking for a response, but you’re only met with silence. he’s left you alone just like how everyone else has left you. nanami, geto, haibara, and now satoru.

you don’t scream or sob once you realize that satoru’s gone. in fact, your tears have ceased, but it's instead replaced with this empty feeling—like a hollow hole in your chest that can’t be filled with anything to make you feel whole again.

the battlefield is cold, but gojo’s limp body feels colder.

gojo satoru is twenty-two years old. he’s a slightly above-average man (both figuratively and literally) standing at six foot three, boasting looks that’ll make anyone fawn over him. it took him almost two years to decide on a major, but after trying a little bit of everything (and falling asleep during every business class that he took with his friend nanami) satoru settled on choosing a political science major to become a lawyer.

despite having looks that grant him the ability to get any girl that he wants, satoru’s spent his whole life looking for a girl that he’s never even met before.

he remembers everything–and every part about you. sometimes, he thinks that all the memories he’s spent with you were just some sort of dream, and yet, they seemed so vivid. sometimes, satoru chastises himself, a part of him wanting to just move on from you because he doesn’t even know if you actually exist–and yet, he’s been trying his entire life to find you because his memories told him that “he promised he would”.

were they memories or were they dreams? he doesn’t know what to think anymore.

but then, gojo satoru finally gets his questions answered one spring afternoon.

he passes by a cute bakery while walking home from school, and feels his taste buds waking up as he stares at all the mouth-watering sweets displayed behind the store’s glass. the bakery has a wide variety of baked goods, as well as coffee. satoru’s so busy looking at the menu that the second he looks at the cashier, he feels his entire world stop.

it’s you.

and at that moment, satoru could feel all the memories flooding back in. no, they weren’t dreams. they were memories. satoru has lived a completely different life before this one, and this was a new life, a second life that was granted to satoru from whatever deity there was out there. all he ever wanted was to live a normal life without being renowned as “the strongest”, and most importantly, he wanted to live a normal life with you in the epicenter of it.

you. his entire world. his lifeline.

and now, you’re right in front of him, and satoru feels like he’s sixteen all over again–the year that you met him when you transferred into jujutsu high. the year you turned his entire world upside down. the year you–as well as his other friends, taught him how to live for a moment without caring about the overbearing pressure of expectation that was ever-present on his shoulders.

a glimmer of gold on your neck catches satoru’s eye.

it was the heart-shaped gold necklace that he’d given to you on your anniversary. the heart itself was crystallized red, and when you asked gojo to clasp it around your neck, you’ve always kept it on you.

he wonders if you ever took it off after he died.

“y/n?” the whisper almost felt pathetic with how much emotion he poured into it. you look up from your phone and finally meet his gaze for the first time in years.

two star-crossed lovers who made an oath to love each other like they’ve never loved before in their next life. the two of you have finally crossed paths again–but wait, there’s something terribly wrong.

“y/n? yeah… that’s my name.” you say, looking at your name tag that was pinned onto your apron. a look of confusion is etched onto your face–the man in front of you is looking at you with so much familiarity that you feel the need to know who he is. silvery white hair, cerulean blue eyes. his appearance makes him stand out so much that you would’ve definitely known who he was. you awkwardly adjust your name tag, unable to find any words to say other than:

“i’m sorry, but do i know you?”

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caramelarchive · 4 months

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🍪anon here! i had a little thought and it goes, L being jealous of misa having her hair brushed by reader and he acts as if it doesn't bother him but he hints at wanting his hair brushed (it was funnier in my head, my cats do this and I thought of L and Misa)

Little Kitten ╾ L, Misa

sigh. 🍪 anon you are my favourite. I have moved to my main @lawlietscaramels please follow there for new content!

　★━━─・‥…━━━☆

"Y/N-chan!"

The high pitched voice is clearly Misa's. It's a nice voice, good for singing, but if you listened to it too long you'd go mad.

Misa stops in front of you, holding out a hairbrush with a smile. She tilts her head to the side. "Will you brush my hair for me?"

You hesitate for a moment then smile, picking the hairbrush out of her hands. "Sure." Misa squeals in delight and starts taking her hair out of its little ponytails, sitting down in a chair and turning her back to you. She swings her feet a little as you begin brushing through her hair.

It's quite pretty, blonde and shining gold in the light. Once you've gotten the few knots out, your free hand comes to stroke through her hair. Misa sighs.

"Thanks, pretty!" she declares, turning her head enough that one of her eyes can meet yours. "So, you know, Y/N, I was with Light yesterday and..." Misa blabbers on, her arms waving all around. You're sure she's annoying the Task Force, but nobody comments on it. So you just listen to the girl's triumphs and woes, continuing to gently brush through her hair.

About twenty minutes pass before you notice L sulking at his desk.

"Hold on, Misa," you instruct, pausing her part way through a tale about a grumpy waitress. She leans her head back, eyes catching the flourescent lights, and pouts a little. You give her a pat on the head and look back over at the head detective. "L, are we distracting you?"

"No," he says stiffly, glancing at you for only a moment before his dark gaze moves to the hairbrush, Misa, and back to his computer.

"..Alright, then."

The detective stuffs a chocolate in his mouth and seems to pout.

Misa laughs. "I think Ryuzaki wants his hair brushed, Y/N." There's a mumbled "do not" from L's direction. You shake your head and resume running your fingers and brush through Misa's hair.

"He'll have to come ask me."

Another 20 or so minutes pass. It's more peaceful this time, Misa only making the occasional comment as the sound of tapping at keyboards and rustling through files fills the room. Her hair is very soft, and your task quickly becomes more meditative than anything. You're getting really into it when there's a small nudge at your leg.

L's standing beside you, his shoulders hunched and head tilted down so he can stare right into your eyes, his hand outstretched to poke at your pants. As you watch, he slowly lowers himself into that 40% froggy sit of his, and looks up with big, bush baby eyes that ask "why don't you like me?" as he lets his head fall onto your leg.

Misa laughs again, and prudently prances off, going to annoy Light. L stays crouched at your feet.

He's too cute...

You sigh but don't protest. Couldn't if you wanted. "Alright then, Ryuzaki, on the chair."

His mouth doesn't bother quirking up into a smile, but his eyes seem to brighten as he straightens up and crouches back down, this time in the chair in front of you. L keeps turning his head to look at you, jumping when he sees you looking back, and turning his head away again. You put a hand on his shoulder and he's caught between freezing and falling out of the chair.

"Be still," you scold gently, and begin brushing his hair. It's much knottier than Misa's, and you're a little scared to guess when he last ran his own comb through it, but it seems clean enough.

Once you've tugged the knots out, it's quite nice, actually.

You start humming a little, your hand reaching up to stroke through the dark, raven-feather hair sticking up all over his head. L lets out a mix of a sigh and an "oh!" and his entire body shudders. You laugh.

He leans back slowly, bending his head so he can look up at you. You give him a little tap on the chin, then the forehead and smile. L's eyes close as your fingers massage into his scalp, the hairbrush neatening and smoothing out his hair.

His lips tilt into a smile too, eyes opening just a slit to stare sleepily into yours.

"Thank you, Y/N."

　★━━─・‥…━━━☆

𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖙 ˏˋ⋆˖⁺˖⁀➷ 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌 + 𝖋𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜

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loveshotzz · 4 months

Text

A sneak peek of part one to make up for not posting today. 🎄coming 12/20

series masterlist

Moving with the flow of the crowd, the beginning jingle of Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ starts to play, and with the grand spectacle that the holiday decorations are every year, it’s hard not to feel all those emotions of nostalgia they’re trying to pull from you, making you roll your eyes singing along with her under your breath.

The big water fountain in the middle of the men’s department comes into view from the tops of bobbing heads, one of the many physical markers in this building you’ve had to use so you don’t get lost in the retail maze they’ve created letting you know that you’re close to your destination. Weaving through the sea of people, you try to gear up to break free from the human traffic jam, the signs pointing to the escalators in your sights. His panicked voice is what you hear first, an obvious friendliness still hidden underneath it despite the way it shakes every time you hear him say “excuse me?”

Your eyes search for the owner, and when you find him, regret buries itself deep in your gut when they land on his face.

A perfect mess of dark chestnut hair, with tips that look like they were dipped in honey sits on top of his head. The hints of gold hidden inside shimmer under the lights, as it curls wildly behind his ears. It almost looks styled that way, that is until you see his big hand run through it twice in the span of a few seconds. Warm brown eyes squint as he turns in a full circle glancing between his phone and the signs the point to the city street exits on either side of him. The hoards of people surrounding him completely ignoring his existence as he looks around painfully lost.

His nose is sharp, just like his jaw that’s dusted with the faint hint of a five o’clock shadow. The two prominent moles that sit side by side on his cheek stick out on his unseasonably sun kissed skin that seems to glow against the dark maroon color of his sweater. It’s snug across a broad chest, just like the washed out black jeans that fit a light too well around his thighs. His chocolate colored peacoat looks tailored to fit his biceps, with shiny gold buttons that match the buckle on his russet leather loafers, and the chain that dangles from around his neck.

You watch him try to ask a few friendly faces for help, only receiving a shrug and a half smile by the ones that actually acknowledge him. He mutters something that sounds sarcastic to himself as you get closer, his hands moving animatedly before he huffs pinching the bridge of his nose.

Maybe it’s the Christmas decorations, or the Mariah Carey, or maybe it’s just the fact that you’d rather take pity on a handsome stranger than go to your job. Whatever reason it is, you decide to make the stupid mistake to help him.

“Hey,” you greet timidly, getting just close enough to smell the cedar and cinnamon that seems to cling to the expensive wool of his coat, ignoring the way your stomach flips because of course he smells good right?

“Are you lost?”

He doesn’t hear you over the internal battle going on inside his head, not even registering that someone is finally stopping to offer the help he’d just been pleading for, quietly grumbling, ‘you wanted to move to the city, now you can’t even find your way through a damn store’ to himself.

You clear your throat before it can get anymore awkward, alerting him of your presence while letting your curious gaze wander up his tall broad frame. Those squinted brown eyes look big now as they meet yours, and you can see green inside them that you couldn’t before and it sparkles brighter than the tinsel hanging from the boughs behind him.

Yeah, you’ve made a huge mistake.

He blinks a few times, before a wide smile stretches across his face somehow making him even more handsome as he reveals a set of perfectly straight teeth. The smile pushes up his cheeks, and crinkles the skin around his eyes, and you watch all the aggravation from before melt off of his perfectly sculpted face and you wish you could go back those few minutes in time and abort the mission. This is no damsel in distress.

“Hi” is all that he says, peony’s painting his cheeks as he runs his hand through his thick hair again and it looks even softer up close.

“Hey,” You giggle, nerves taking over and you want to pinch yourself for it, “I just wanted to see if you needed some help, you look a little lost.”

You try to seem indifferent when you catch the way his gaze roams quickly down your body, thankful you did laundry last night and had on your tight fitting work slacks today that showed off your curves.

“So lost!” He groans, the blush on his cheeks deepening with the tips of his ears. “If I’m being completely honest with you, I don’t even know what floor I’m on.”

You try to hide the way you snort, slapping your palm over your mouth.

“Hey, be nice!” He laughs, trying his best to fight it to put on a hurt expression, “this is like, my first time here, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you try to fight off you smile, “I didn’t mean to laugh at you —“

“Steve.” He interjects with a grin, those perfect teeth biting at his full bottom lip as he sticks out one of his hands for you to take, a gold band wrapped around his middle finger you didn’t notice before gleaming when it hits the light.

“Well, Steve,” You try not to laugh, which ends up being easy to do when you slip your hand into his and watch it disappear behind his long fingers when they wrap around it, “you’re on the first floor if you can believe it.

“That’s fucking embarrassing, wow.” He groans, letting your hand go to run his palm down his face, and you hate that you feel the loss in your gut, “sorry I didn’t mean to cuss.

“I’ll let it slide this time,” You tease with a wink, enjoying the way it only makes the color on his face deepen. “Where are you trying to go? I work on the seventh floor. I might be able to take you on my way.”

It takes Steve a minute to formulate an answer to your offer, still stuck on the fact a complete stranger was being so nice to him, and the silence between you goes on just long enough to make you second guess everything.

“Or I could just try and give you directions if that’s more comfortable for you.” You offer, adjusting the straps of your backpack nervously.

“I’m trying to get to the women’s department,” Steve finally blurts out, sensing the shift in your energy and quickly tries to recover with another card through his hair and a crooked smile, “specifically the handbags, and I absolutely think you should take me.”

His gaze narrows the color in his eyes darkening into something more flirtatious than nervous.

“Who knows how long it’d take me to get there without a beautiful, clearly smart woman such yourself to help me anyway.”

Your stomach does that thing that you hate again, and all the heat in your body licks at your cheeks like flames. You can’t remember the last time a man actually used the word beautiful. Hot? Absolutely. Cute? Sure. Pretty? Yeah, a few times, but never beautiful. It sits in your chest where it blossoms into another painfully big smile that pushes your cheeks up even more, and you have to look away from his face for a moment when he matches it with his own.

“O- okay, if you just, uh wanna follow me?” Words get lost on your tongue and it comes out more shy than you would’ve liked, but you turn on your heel before you can think too hard about it when he gestures you forward.

You hear him mutter ‘are you kidding me?’ under his breath as you lead him to the escalators just around the corner, making him realize how close they were this whole time and you wonder just how long he was actually looking for them. The smell of mint hits your nose as you pass the Frango chocolate stand and it mixes with the spice of his cologne as he trails close behind. Butterflies threatening to break from cocoons hearing the way his steps match yours.

He stops next to you as you come to halt to wait your turn to hop onto the moving metal steps. You look up at him and there’s an awkwardness that threatens to fill the small space between you that has you giving him a tight lipped smile that he returns with the kind of confidence that makes your palms sweat and you have to look away.

“I say we make our move after white puffer coat comin’ up here.” His voice startles you when it comes out low, close enough to the shell of your ear that you swear you can feel the whisper of his lips. Spearmint stings your nose from the gum that snaps between his teeth, and the heat of his breath makes goosebumps jump along the back of your neck.

Why did you do this?

You meet his gaze from the corner of your eye, letting him see the playful glint that dances in them before giving a curt nod of your head.

“On the count of three…” You play along, despite everything inside you telling you to stop flirting back and it makes Steve’s whole face light up, long fingers flexing at his side with the need to find yours again.

“One..” He starts, and your eyes meet ‘white puffer coat’ who’s now only a few steps away before finding Steve’s again who’s stare very obviously never left your face.

“Two..” You giggle trying to hide the way your body starts to buzz and if it wasn’t for Steve’s giddy expression you’d be more embarrassed than you actually are.

“Thre-“ His final count gets cut off by the feeling of your fingers wrapping around his, tugging him onto the stairs early with a loud cackle that has you throwing your head back and he swears the sound tilts his world off its axis.

His cheeks dust pink under the bright light looking down his nose at you with a wide smile that shows all his teeth. An expensive loafer sits wedged between your work shoes and the other on the step above, caging you against the side as you ride up to the next floor, and he’s close enough for you to see a smattering of more freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and the side of his neck, even one on the tip of his earlobe.

He’s still holding your hand.

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagines

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starlingflight · 12 days

Text

loml

Written for @corneliaavenue-ao3 TTPD Several Sunlit Daylights challenge.

Read on AO3 or below:

I. lesson of my life

Every illusion Ginny has ever had is shattered over the course of a single night.

She doesn't go into the chamber willingly. She claws, and scratches and fights against Tom's commands with all her might. She cries, and she struggles, but in the end it makes no difference. She isn't strong enough. As the darkness swallows her up, her final childish hope is for a rescue she knows isn't coming.

When she opens her eyes again it doesn't feel like a miracle. The cold from the stone floor has seeped through her skin, a chill has settled deep in her bones and she knows, with absolute certainty, it will never fully go away.

Of course Harry is there, holding a mighty sword, a dead monster behind him. The very image of the conquering hero she's always fantasised about, but this isn't like one of Ginny's fantasies. He's covered in blood, and his eyes are wide with the same terror that's taken root deep within her soul. There's no triumph in this moment, only horror.

This isn't a dream. It's a nightmare. One that Ginny won't fully wake up from for a very long time.

She learns many lessons that night, but the most important one will come later. After she's spent weeks, months, years putting herself back together, because Harry might have rescued her from the chamber, but, as Ginny will come to realise, the only person who can really save you is yourself.

II. light of my life

Harry's never known a darkness like this. It starts when he watches Sirius fall through the veil, tiny tendrils of black slowly leaking out from his heart, unfurling with increasing urgency until he's overwhelmed by a cold, empty abyss that he's sure nothing will ever penetrate again. How can it when Sirius is never coming back?

He doesn't even notice the first ray of light. It happens so quickly. He's in the hospital wing, trying very hard to let Hermione's commentary on the latest news from The Prophet distract him from the aching chasm in his chest, and the unbearable weight of the prophecy, when it happens.

Luna says something completely ridiculous about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks – whatever they are – Harry can feel Hermione's exasperation from across the small gap that separates her bed from Ron's. Ginny's chocolate eyes meet his, and something happens that he'd assumed would never happen again.

Harry smiles.

It's fleeting, lasting less than a second. There's very little time to dwell on it before they're looking away from one another, and the grief washes over him again, a tidal wave that steals the air from his lungs.

That's just the beginning though… or maybe the beginning had been years ago. Maybe the blush he'd once thought of as the setting sun had actually been the opposite; Ginny's light rising, her warm, rosy glow beginning its ascent into his life.

She continues to rise that summer, forcing the darkness back with her sheer brightness. Her smile turns black to grey; her laugh is powder pinks and bright oranges; the jokes she coaxes from him are pure, cloudless blue.

When she runs at him across the common room months later, she's blazing, burning red. When she reaches him, when Harry finally kisses Ginny, the sun reaches its apex and his whole life is awash with bright, brilliant gold.

For a few shining weeks there are only sunlit days.

III. loss of my life

Fittingly, they're at a funeral when it happens. Ginny always knew he had great comedic timing. She's not laughing, however, as Harry lays out all his stupid, noble reasons why they can't be together. She's not crying either, though; that feels like a small mercy. The only one she's going to get for a while.

She does cry when she finally makes it home. It's silly, she knows. Silly, foolish, naive Ginny Weasley, a familiar, cold voice whispers through her mind. For once, she doesn't try to argue with it, but she doesn't try to stop either.

Instead, she buries her face into her pillow and lets herself sob until her eyes run dry. Her tears aren't just for her broken heart, but for everything Ginny's already had to sacrifice; her childhood, her innocence.

It isn't until weeks later that she realises the true magnitude of what she stands to lose.

“And then what does she think's going to happen? Someone else will kill off Voldemort while she's holding us here making vol-au-vents?”

The fork Ginny is holding almost slips from her grasp. Her heart falters in her chest. Harry playing his flippant comment off a joke does nothing to return it to a steady rhythm.

It plays round and round in her mind that night. Her knuckles are ghostly white where they grip her bedsheet. Vaguely, she'd known what he'd planned to do, but vague notions and knowing with absolute certainty are two very different things. The task Harry brought up so nonchalantly in the kitchen is nothing short of a suicide mission. It hits Ginny with the force of a barrage of stunning spells, knocking the air from her lungs; Harry might not come back to her.

Two days later, when she kisses him in her bedroom, it doesn't feel like she's saying happy birthday, it feels like she's saying goodbye.

When Harry follows Ron out of her bedroom door, he takes a piece of Ginny with him, one she prays she hasn't lost forever.

IV. longing of my life

She haunts him like a ghost. What was once screaming colour and pure unfiltered brightness is now just a memory, a pale imitation permanently stuck on repeat in his mind.

Harry moves stoically from one hiding place to another and, though they're separated by miles, Ginny follows him to every single one.

He can hear her laugh in the wind that shakes the canvas sides of the tent. He can see her smile in the sunlight that penetrates the thick canopy of the forests they move between. At night, when he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend the sheet brushing against his skin is her fingertips.

It's worse when he has the locket on. Then, he's tormented with visions like the one he'd imagined on his birthday; of her moving on. Finding someone else. Living a life that can never be his.

Horcrux or no, he can't stop himself thinking about her. Aching for her. Longing for her.

He clings to memories of Ginny like scraps of driftwood, the only thing keeping Harry afloat when he's been set adrift.

V. lament of my life

It's like the chamber all over again. Ginny's whole world is flipped upside down in the space of a single night.

She doesn't see Fred go. She doesn't know the last time she sees her big brother that it's the last time.

“Take care of yourself,” he'd shouted over his shoulder as Ginny had gone hurtling down a corridor in pursuit of a Death Eater.

“Don't I always?’ she'd called back.

What if she'd told him to do the same? Would he have listened? Would he still be there?

There's very little time to dwell on such questions in the middle of a battle. Especially not when every passing second brings another devastating loss.

Lupin. Tonks. Colin.

Ginny's heart shatters into a million little pieces until it doesn't exist at all. Or so she thinks, until she sees Harry's body cradled in Hagrid’s arms.

Then she knows she still has a heart, because it's in unbearable agony. She doubles over from the pain of it. His name escapes her lips on a scream, as though she might be able to call him back to life through sheer desperation.

Tom Riddle talks; for the second time in Ginny's life, she's unable to hear him, but this isn't like the Chamber at all. This time Ginny wishes she was dead.

When the battle resumes, she jumps straight into it with wild abandon. Ginny's lamentation is not filled with tears, or wailing. It's fire and rage for everything that's been taken from her. Tom Riddle already stole her past. Now he's taken her future. She will take everything she can from him, or die trying.

VI. lowest of my life

He's never truly let himself imagine what it might be like to actually defeat Voldemort. If he had, Harry doubts he would have pictured it like this.

If it's a win, why is there so much loss?

He doesn't know whether the grief or the hope is more overwhelming. They mingle together, like waves in the ocean, swelling and breaking, threatening to pull Harry under.

He can feel it crash over him as he stands in the great hall the day after the battle. The bodies are still there; all the people who don't get the second chance Harry does are laid out in front of him. Lifeless eyes staring, unseeing, up at the enchanted ceiling.

The guilt and the pain sweep through him like ice water, filling his lungs; rising up in Harry's throat until there's no possible room for air. He takes a step back, desperate to flee somewhere he can sink down into the cold, lonely depths.

Before he can, a hand, small and warm, slips into his, pulling Harry back to the surface. He releases one, long, deep breath before looking at her.

Ginny's attempt at a smile is tinged with sadness, sunlight peeking through dark grey clouds.

Only hours ago, he'd contemplated all the things he needed to say to her, but now no words are exchanged at all. Only a look. It's all they need. All they've ever needed. Everything has changed. But he's still Harry, and she's still Ginny.

Instinctively his arm comes around her. Ginny buries her face in his chest, sagging slightly against him, as though she was waiting for this moment to let herself rest. Like she needs him as much as he needs her.

Harry's head rests against hers, the floral scent of her shampoo is faint, lingering beneath everything that's happened. It makes his heart falter anyway. He holds her tightly to him, something he never thought he'd get the chance to do again. As he's come to expect, time seems to stop for her. They stay like that for what might only be seconds, or possibly an entire lifetime passes.

Eventually, Ginny pulls out of his grasp. It takes less than a second for her hand to find his again, fingers entwining. She pulls gently, silently commanding him to follow her. Harry almost asks where they're going, but he doesn't really need to. He's free to go wherever he pleases now. He'll follow her anywhere.

Ginny looks up at him as they walk towards the double doors. He can still see the embers of her blazing light smouldering in the dark depths of her eyes. He was right, there will be hours, days, and years in which to talk, but he doesn't need her to say a word now to know where she's taking him. He lets her pull him forward, lets her light guide him to a future he's still not sure he deserves to have.

VII. loser of my life

For a while, Ginny thinks she'll never recover from the loss, from the grief and the heartache. It's not the first time she's felt this way, but this time she doesn't have to face it alone. Once she has Harry back, he doesn't leave her side again.

They fall back together naturally. They stitch themselves back together slowly until one day, years later, the sun is blazing brightly in the sky, the pleasant summer breeze is ruffling the grass beneath her feet, and Ginny feels whole again.

“Ready?” Her father asks, holding out his arm out to her.

“Ready,” Ginny agrees, threading her hand through the crook of his elbow. Holding her colourful bouquet of wildflowers in front of her with her free hand.

There have been times, in her darkest moments, when she wished she was someone else. A girl who hasn't dwelt in a darkness that most people don't ever see even in their worst nightmares; a witch who hasn't looked into the eyes of evil and refused to bend, refused to break; a woman who hasn't lost things that can never ever be replaced.

Now, as soft music begins to swell in the summer air, and her gaze locks on Harry, waiting for her at the end of the makeshift aisle formed by the rows of chairs that have been put out in her parent's orchard, Ginny doesn't regret any of it. Everything she's lost is a step she's taken towards this.

She can feel dozens of heads turn towards her, but Ginny only has eyes for Harry, and he, it appears, only has eyes for her. His smile makes the sun look dim in comparison. Still, the corner of his mouth trembles; even from a distance, Ginny can see emotion well up behind his glasses.

‘Don't you dare,' she mouths, feeling her throat tighten as she does. Her arm stretches out, lifting her bouquet like it's a wand, miming hexing him. She's closer now. She can hear the tremor in his laugh as he puts his arms up in mock surrender.

It's too late; the laughter she's coaxed from him doesn't stop the tear that slips down his cheek. Of course, one of her own escapes only a half a second later.

“We look like such losers,” Ginny informs him, shaking her head, as her fingers slip from her father's arm into Harry's awaiting hand.

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, quietly enough for only her to hear. He's still smiling as another tear slides unconcernedly down his face. His free hand reaches up, his thumb swipes away the ones that are currently leaking traitorously from Ginny's eyes. “But you're my loser.”

It takes her a moment to regain her breath. A fleeting second in which she can't quite believe they're here; that they made it. Then she smiles even wider than before. “Not officially – not until we get through this ceremony.”

Harry's gaze holds hers. Ginny almost forgets they have an audience. The world reduces down to just the two of them, grinning madly at one another. Harry's fingers squeeze her hand. “We'd best get on with it then.

VIII. legacy of my life

Books are filled with what many consider to be his finest achievements. Tales of thrilling battles, speculations on unsurvivable curses, and records of great victories are inked across the pages of history.

As are the many titles thrust upon Harry; The Boy Who Lived, Chosen One, Saviour. To him, they're little more than noise, assumptions from people who don't really know him, and never will.

When he slips the wedding ring onto Ginny's finger, Harry gets the first title he's ever chosen for himself: husband. Her husband.

Not long after, he gains another one, this one unplanned, but no less momentous. James, tiny, and so precious, is placed into his arms, and Harry becomes a father.

His real legacy begins there. It's not just his, it's hers too. Their legacy.

It's recorded in baby books and photo albums rather than history books. It's memorialised in finger paintings and handmade Christmas ornaments (made under Ginny's expert supervision) instead of plaques and statues. It's hundreds of little memories of their family that will never see the inside of a newspaper, but that doesn't make them any less noteworthy, not to Harry, who'd never dared to imagine that this life could be his one day.

IX. love of my life

“Dinner!” Her mother calls from the back door of The Burrow, her voice ringing out across the garden.

The sun is setting, dipping below the topmost branches of the orchard. The sky is a tapestry of pinks, purples and golds, stretching out for miles above them.

“What do you think?” Ginny asks as her feet meet the ground, dismounting from her broom. “Could I make it as a pro?”

Harry lands beside her. His eyes sweep appraisingly over her. Ginny's stomach swoops like she's still in the air. “I don't know,” he says thoughtfully. “The League is brutal. It requires rigorous training.”

Ginny shrugs unconcernedly, hoisting her broom onto her shoulder as she does. “Do you know any Quidditch captains who might be interested in helping me with such an undertaking?”

“I know one who might be able to make some time for you this summer,” Harry says as he falls into step beside her. He inclines his head towards her broom.“I can take it for you?”

Ginny's eyes narrow, prepared to tell him she's perfectly capable of carrying her own broom, but, when she turns, the way he's looking at her makes her heart race, and the words die on her tongue. without her permission, her expression transforms into a grin. “Very chivalrous of you.”

A weight is lifted from her as Harry settles her broom beside his on his shoulder. “That's kind of what I'm known for.”

“Only ‘kind of’?” Ginny's eyes wander to the quickly darkening sky above them as she laughs. “In that case, I'll be sure to let people know of this latest act of heroism – personally, I don't think you get enough attention.”

“Well, if that's how you feel, you could always give me more.”

Ginny stops midstep. Her head turns sharply back to Harry. She should keep walking, the words that are on the tip of her tongue will lead to something that neither of them planned for on this particular summer evening.

Harry's eyebrows rise upwards; even in the dusk, Ginny can see the challenge sparking in his eyes. Unbidden, she takes a step towards him. “Are you flirting with me, Potter?”

He doesn't back down, but he doesn't make a move towards her either. The brooms he's holding clatter together as he shrugs with just a bit too much tension in his shoulders to be truly nonchalant. “I might be.”

Ginny's blood thrums in her veins as she takes another step towards him. “Need I remind you that I'm spoken for?”

“How could I forget?” Harry's head lowers despite her reminder, until he's so close Ginny can see the flecks of gold in his green eyes. “I suppose he's deeply in love with you?”

“Yes,” she nods with absolute certainty. “And I feel the same about him.”

Harry's head dips lower, the determination in his eyes making his intention clear. Ginny rises on her tiptoes, unable to fight the pull that always inevitably beckons her to him.

Barely an inch of space remains between them. Her heart flutters wildly–

“Oi!” The loud, obnoxious shout comes from the far end of the orchard, making Ginny jump. She turns towards it and finds a lanky figure glaring at them from where he leans against the fence. “When you're done being disgusting, Nanna says to hurry up – dinner’s ready and the rest of us aren't allowed to start without you.”

James doesn't wait for a response before turning on his heel and marching back towards the house.

Ginny rolls her eyes at her son's retreating back. Her hand slips into Harry's, the most contact they're getting, at least until after dinner. “Remind me again why we had children?”

Harry sighs, allowing her to lead him towards the gate James has just departed from. “You said they'd be cute.”

“Well, they used to be,” she says fairly as she pushes the gate open with her free hand. “I wasn't thinking as far as them becoming teenagers.”

Harry nods seriously. “Really, who could've predicted such an unforeseeable outcome.”

Ginny looks up at him as he follows her through the gate. Brown eyes meet green through the burgeoning twilight. Two identical smiles bloom like flowers in spring.

“Certainly not you, judging by your appalling Divination grades.”

#several sunlit daylights #hinny #harry x ginny #TTPD

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