#i mean i have some idea about wren

[smileysuh]

crossroads

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu & Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. If one neighbour is a Doberman, then the other is a Golden Retriever. They’re like night and day, and yet, you’re drawn to both, as if some gravitational or celestial power is pulling you to them… it also helps that they both have motorcycles. How had it been so easy to ghost Wonwoo in the past, only to find yourself at a crossroads with his roommate seven months later?

tw/cw. Threesome, unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, big dick Mingyu, creampie, oral (f/m receiving), blow job, deep throating, hand job, Eiffel tower/spit roasting, breast worship, nipple pinching, nipple licking, panty kink, eating pussy through panties, fingering, squirting, pussy stretching, praise, dirty talk, ‘sir’, dom!Wonwoo, switch!mingyu, blindfold/sensory deprivation, voyeurism, listening to your neighbour have sex, masturbation, reader reads erotica, mutual masturbation, slight dacryphilia, blindfold/sensory deprivation, inklings of humiliation, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, baby. (Mingyu’s) gyu. (Wonwoo’s) sir. 

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 19.8k

🍭 aus. Biker!meanie, booktok!reader, neighbours!au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. This was not supposed to be this long. I don’t know how this happened. 

Prologue 

“Who keeps messaging you?” your cousin asks, trying to act nonchalant as he sips his margarita, but you can feel his eyes on you as you stare at your phone.

“The Harley dude,” you sigh, quickly reading the text message.

“The guy who missed your first date because he was napping?” Jeonghan nearly chokes on his drink, setting it down in favor of flashing you a judgemental look.

“Yeah, the same guy who also tried to rebook our first date as a group ride night with all his friends,” you roll your own eyes at the stupidity of men. While the idea is fun, it’s not the way to get to know someone new. 

Jeonghan lets out a low whistle. “Sheesh.”

“You can say that again.” You set your phone down, grabbing at your bellini, and relaxing against the patio chair, trying to soak up the sunshine in an effort to calm yourself.

“Well? What did he say?” your cousin presses.

“He said his entire week is free if I want to meet up.”

“And what did you say?” 

“Nothing.” You tip your head back, letting out a contented breath. “He had two chances, I’m not about to give him a third.”

“Summer is almost over,” Jeonghan points out. “I know you wanted to find some hot dude with a motorcycle and ride off into the sunset. You’re getting low on time.”

“Honestly, Hannie? This Jeon guy is not worth it.”

One

After a long winter, it’s finally getting warm enough that you can open your apartment windows and enjoy the fresh air. Trees are beginning to blossom, birds are singing songs that act as white noise while you sit at your dining table completing the last few emails for your remote job.

As you’re finishing up your very last correspondence of the day, new noises join in with the robbins and wrens. These noises, however, are nowhere near as pleasant.

There’s a banging outside your door, a few thumps, and a distinctly male voice cursing. 

Living in a fairly quiet apartment complex, these sorts of sounds aren’t something you’re used to, and they can only mean one thing; your landlord finally found new tenants for the two-bedroom next door that’s been vacant for over a month. 

With a sigh, you close your laptop, wrapping your sweater tightly around your body as you venture toward your door. You can’t help the curiosity bubbling inside of you, and after another deep breath, you decide to take a peak into the hallway beyond.

Two men are struggling to get a couch through the doorway into unit 317. You stay silent, watching the way one man’s biceps bulge with each maneuver. His hair is on the longer side, dark strands licking and curling at his throat, which is covered in a light sheen of sweat from the effort of moving. 

“Come on Cheol, we’re almost there,” he encourages the man holding up the other end of the sofa. 

“Fuck you, Mingyu,” the other says, stepping back into the apartment and out of your view.

You wait patiently, and after a minute or so, the pretty man moves into the hallway again, giving you a full view of his face. He lets out a deep breath, shaking out his muscular arms- that’s when his eyes meet yours, and you swear your heart skips a beat in your chest.

His mouth curves into a wide grin. “Hi! Sorry if we bugged you with the noise- that couch was not making moving easy.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him quickly. “You must be my new neighbours.” Your gaze shifts past him to the second man, who has appeared in the hallway too.

“Nah- I mean, I am, but this is Cheol, he’s just a friend,” the pretty man tries to explain, stopping in front of you. He wipes his hand along his jean leg, then holds it out to you, “I’m Mingyu.”

You allow him to shake your hand. Despite his attempt to wipe some of the sweat away, his palm is still a little clammy, although, you’re shocked to find that the physical contact isn’t unpleasant. 

You tell him your name, watching Cheol trudge past you to the elevator. “So if that guy isn’t your roommate, who is?”

“My buddy Wonwoo. He’s actually visiting family in Korea right now, won’t be moving in till the end of the month.”

“I see,” you nod. “Well, welcome to the building.” 

“Thanks,” Mingyu beams again. “If all our neighbours are as friendly as you, I think we’ll like it here.”

“If I’m being honest, we’re a quiet building, lots of us are kind of reclusive,” you try to explain, choosing your words carefully. 

You hear Cheol let out a chuckle as he waits for the elevator, and you wonder what he’s found so funny.

“Quiet,” Mingyu repeats, letting out a breath. “Noted. We’ll do our best not to be a disruption.”

You want to believe him, but something in his grin tells you not to. 

Two 

It’s been about a month and a half since Mingyu moved in. You’ve not seen him, or his roommate, although, you have heard them through your shared wall a few times. One of them - Wonwoo you’re guessing- is pretty into video games, because yelled lines like ‘I’m trying to revive you, dipshit!’ and ‘stop fucking dying so much then!’ have irritated you and interrupted your soft girl movie nights. 

From what you can tell, Mingyu’s elusive friend who was visiting Korea is now sharing his bedroom wall with you, and at two AM on a Tuesday night, your suspicion is confirmed. You wake to noises that aren’t gamer screams, they’re screams of pleasure. 

Muffled cries of “harder, daddy!” and “please!” have your skin tingling as you shift under your duvet, feeling suddenly very hot. 

As you lay there and listen to the sound of a headboard beginning to hit the wall, you try to decide if you’re annoyed, or horny. The tingling between your thighs, and the heat along your neck makes you think it might be a combination of both.

Part of you wants to bang your fist against the wall, but you’re much too shy to risk any sort of confrontation. Instead, you simply lay there, fighting the need to slip your hand down your sleeping shorts.

You figure the sex will be over soon, but five minutes stretches into fifteen. The woman’s cries have stopped, but the low thumping of a bedframe against the wall has only gotten more intense. 

You’re no stranger to kinky shit- you’re an avid reader of smut afterall, and being a voracious reader, your mind comes up with reasons why the girl may have stopped begging. Had Wonwoo put something in her mouth to shut her up? Panties perhapse? Or had he flipped her into doggy position, pressing a hand to the back of her head to force her face against the pillows?

If Mingyu had been hot, his best friend must be sexy too- guys like that travel in packs, and Cheol hadn’t been bad on the eyes either. You imagine a faceless man, muscled and gorgeous, railing some girl not four feet away from you, with only a wall keeping you from seeing the perverse act. You feel dirty, like a voyeur, and you’re equal parts relieved and saddened when the noise finally stops. 

You sit in silence, listening to your own heavy breaths for a few minutes, wondering if the sounds will pick up again.

They don’t, and soon, you’re drifting off into a lusty sleep.

Three 

You’ve been awoken to the sounds of sex three times now. The idea of approaching the property manager to file a noise complaint has been on your mind, but you can’t find it within yourself to make waves.

Due to all of this, when you finally bump into Mingyu in the building’s shared laundry room, you see it as the perfect chance to quietly resolve the issue without causing trouble. 

He’s dressed in gym shorts and a black muscle shirt that shows off his expansive shoulders as he moves wet clothes into the dryer. Standing in the doorway of the laundry room, you’re once again struck by how beautiful your new neighbour is.

With a deep breath to find courage, you appraoch him, going for the washing machine next to his. “Hi,” you greet him.

“Oh, hey neighbour,” Mingyu grins, pausing what he’s doing to look you up and down.

You’re hyper aware of the sleeping shorts that hardly cover your legs, and the sweater you’d tossed on does little to hide the fact that you’re currently braless. Even so, if you don’t bring up the noises now, you’re not sure when you’ll get another chance.

“Hey, do you uh…” your words come out quiet, and you try to raise your voice a little, wanting to sound confident, “do you think you could ask your roommate and his girlfriend to keep it down?” 

“Huh?” Mingyu’s brows furrow in confusion.

“The person whose room is next to mine,” you try to explain. “They’ve been kind of loud with uh… a girl, recently.”

“Oh!” You can practically see the lighbulb go off in Mingyu’s eyes. “Sorry, you said girlfriend, and that part stumped me. The last time was about a week ago, yeah?”

“Something like that.”

“Don’t worry, I already talked to him a few days ago. Told him to get his fuck buddies to keep it down- they’re annoying, huh? I thought I was the only one losing sleep over it.”

“Definitely not the only one,” you let out a small laugh. “If I’m being honest, I was considering talking to the property manager about it, but I don’t like to cause issues, so I’m glad we’re on the same page about this.”

“We’re for sure on the same page,” Mingyu assures you. “Thanks for not talking to the manager about this- hey, listen, what if I give you my number, and if it happens again, you just have to text me and I’ll go bang on his door or something?”

“I’d appreciate that,” you grin, watching him pull out his phone so he can grab your digits. “Honestly, I work from home, and for the most part, you guys have been pretty great neighbours.”

“Ooh, one of those post covid remote jobs,” Mingyu nods in understanding. “I mean, I’m out during the days usually, I work at a tattoo shop across town, and Wonwoo sleeps most of the time so he can be awake for his evening bar job.”

“That actually kind of makes sense,” you admit. “I never see you guys around.” 

“Well…” Mingyu leans against the dryer, flashing you a boyish grin. “We could change that. You could come over sometime.”

Your heart leaps into your throat. From his body language, and the suggestion, you’re pretty sure this gorgeous man is flirting with you. “I, uh…” you swallow thickly, “maybe.” 

“Well, I have your number, and now…” Mingyu types something into his phone and a moment later yours dings, “you have mine. So if you want to take me up on that offer, just shoot me a text.” 

“Okay.” The words comes out kind of shaky, and you internally smack yourself for becoming so shy from this pretty man hitting on you.

With a wink, Mingyu leaves the laundry room, and your thoughts are scattered for the rest of the day.

Four 

It’s been too long since you’ve seen all your friends from highschool. Soonyoung, Seokmin and Seungkwan are three of the rowdiest guys you know. They love doing bar crawls with you whenever they’re all in town and can find the time. 

Seungkwan lives in another city these days, studying law at a prestigious university. Soonyoung travels the country with dance troup. And Seokmin spends hours every day at the theater practicing for new performances and productions.

They’ve taken you to a bar you’ve never been to, and you’re enjoying the booth style seating. Millennial and old classics are playing through the speakers, and every time a good song comes on, the three men start singing, whether it be Cher, or Britney, or even Kesha. 

You’re a few drinks deep, but they’re even deeper, and it’s gotten to the part of the evening where they want to hear everything about your love life. 

“Okay, book girlie,” Soonyoung slurs, throwing his arm around your shoulders, “spill the beans. Who you fucking?”

You laugh, pushing at his cheek to get his face away from yours. He wreaks of tequila and the Gucci cologne he practically drowns himself in every night before going out. It’s not the most pleasant combination.

“I’m single,” you insist.

“We all know you always have your eye on someone,” Seungkwan insists, leaning over the table to point his finger at you. “Tell us.”

“Okay, maybe there is someone I’m interested in,” you admit.

All three men let out delighted squeals and laughs. “We knew it!” Seokmin exclaims.

“The issue is, he’s my neighbour, and dating in your apartment building can get messy,” you explain. 

“We love messy,” Soonyoung insists. 

“You love messy,” you correct.

“So who’s this hot neighbour?” Seungkwan asks, wanting to dive into the gossip.

“His name is Mingyu.” You let out a sigh. “He’s tall, and handsome, and his arms-”

“Does he have a motorcycle?” Soonyoung interrupts you. “We know you love men with bikes.”

“I don’t think so,” you shake your head. “But it doesn’t matter. My motorcycle phase was last summer.”

“Baby,” Seungwan frowns dramatically, “Honey, sweetheart- You’re a booktok girl. We all know kinky little sluts like you need their bikertok boy to make their fantasies come true.”

You hate it when Seungkwan reads you to filth like this, and you hate it even more that he’s so right. You’ll always have a soft spot for men on motorcycles- or is it a wet spot?

“Anyways, Mingyu is cute, he gave me his number and invited me over-”

“Bitch, go fuck him!” Soonyoung bellows a little too loudly, and you immediately slap a hand over his mouth, looking around to see if anyone heard him.

That’s when your eyes land on a man behind the bar. His curly dark hair is cute, but when you study his regally handsome face, you realize you recougnize him.

“Fuck,” you whisper, immediately lifting your drink to hide behind it.

“What?” Seungkwan turns in his seat. “The bartender?”

“Babes, he’s been checking you out all night,” Soonyoung grins, cuddling closer to you.

It’s only Seokmin who studies you and asks, “Do you know him?”

“The bartender?” Seungkwan scoffs, as if it’s a stupid idea, although, when he turns to look at you again, his jaw drops. “Fuck, you do know him! Girl, spill!” 

“Do you guys remember that Harley dude from the summer? Jeon? The one I ghosted after he missed our first date then suggested a ride night with all his friends to make up for it?” you ask, lowering your voice and continuing to hide behind the glass in your hand.

“Shit, that’s the Harley dude?” Seokmin’s eyes widen in realization. 

“Fuck me, this is awkward,” you groan, taking a large sip from your drink. “Can we get out of here?”

“Babes, we just ordered another round,” Seungkwan points out, lifting his full Gin and Tonic to show you. 

“Don’t be like this,” Soonyoung pouts. “Harley man is a bartender, so what? He can’t ruin our night. Maybe he doesn’t even recougnize you!”

“If he’s been staring, I bet you he does,” Seungkwan points out, taking a swig of his drink.

“Thanks, Seungkwan,” you say sarcastically, “that really makes me feel so much better.”

Your friend only grins, raising his glass. 

You do your best to be calm, but you can’t control the racing of your heart. Your gaze keeps shifting to Jeon, and then, the night takes a turn for the worse: Mingyu walks in, followed closely by Cheol, and some other guy you haven’t met.

The group walks right up to the bartop, and you note the way Mingyu grins at Jeon, holding out a hand so the two can do a slight hug over the counter before the three men take their seats. 

“Shit,” you whisper, downing your drink. 

“What?” Soonyoung also whispers, following your gaze.

“That’s my neighbour,” you explain. “This is not good.”

“Looks like they know each other,” Seungkwan points out.

“Again,” you sigh, “not helping. Fuck me, I need to go to the bathroom.”

You stand abruptly from the table, darting off to the space at the back of the bar. In the ladies room, you splash your hands with cold water, trying to chase away the fire that licks across your skin. Your heart is still thundering in your chest, and deep breaths don’t do anything to help. 

You feel like you’re caged in- like there’s no way out of this bar without running into Jeon and Mingyu. 

You’re not sure how long you stay in the washroom, trying to relax- you give your friends time to finish their drinks, and you’re hoping that when you exit, you can simply escape with them, using the three men as a human shield.

When you exit the bathroom, however, you run directly into Mingyu, who’s just coming out of the men’s room.

“Sorry-” he apologizes, only to look you up and down. “No way! Neighbour? Damn, I didn’t expect to see you here!”

“Oh, hi,” you say awkwardly, forcing a smile.

“How’s your night going?” You usually like Mingyu’s happy energy, but right now, it feels nearly overwhelming.

“Good, you?”

“My night’s going great- hey, listen, I want you to meet someone!” Mingyu grabs your hand, and before you can stop him, your large neighbour is dragging you back out into the bar. 

As he tugs you closer and closer to Jeon, pieces begin to click in your head, and when you reach the bartop, you’re not even surprised when Mingyu says, “This is Wonwoo, my roommate!” He had mentioned Wonwoo worked at a bar, after all. 

“Hi,” you say awkwardly, forcing get another smile.

Jeon - or Wonwoo - looks you up and down. God, he’s even more handsome than his Tinder pictures had made him out to be. But fuck, you’ve heard him fucking other girls through your bedroom wall over three times- and you’d ghosted him-

“Hi,” Wonwoo echoes, his voice all deep and sexy in the loud noise of the bar.

You feel like the wind has been knocked out of you. 

“Wonwoo, this is our neighbour, you know, the one I mentioned.” There’s an insinuation in Mingyu’s tone, and the fact that he’d talked about you to Wonwoo has your stomach erupting into erratic butterflies that threaten to catch in your throat.

“Right.” Wonwoo’s tone is so unimpressed, and you’d bet your life the man is holding a grudge over the whole ghosting thing.

“Wait, Y/N, you should join us for a drink!” Mingyu suggests.

“Actually, I’m here with friends, I should really get back to them,” you say awkwardly, tugging your hand away from Mingyu’s grip. “Thanks for the offer though.”

“Right, yeah, okay.” God, Mingyu looks like a kicked puppy, but then he flashes you a smile and your heart melts. “Listen, text me, just to let me know when you get home safe.”

“You got it,” you agree quickly, giving him a tight lipped grin before you nearly stumble over yourself to get back to your table. “Guys, we have to leave, now.” 

“What happened?” Seokmin asks, clearly concerned while Seungkwan sighs and pulls out a wad of cash.

“They do know each other,” Soonyoung blurts out.

“Turns out Harley Jeon isn’t just Harley Jeon, he’s also Wonwoo, Mingyu’s roommate,” you quickly explain, grabbing your jacket to wrap around your body.

Soonyoung’s eyes light up in realization. “And they were roommates,” he whispers.

“And I ghosted one of them!” you whisper yell back. “The same one who I’ve heard fucking multiple girls through my wall over three times!”

Seungkwan lets out a chuckle. “Girl. You’re fucked.” 

Five 

Jeonghan lets out a deep sigh. “You know, when Seokmin texted me to come check on you for some Grade-A Tea, I never expected any of this.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes. “I know I’m in deep shit.”

“Nah, you’re good,” your cousin assures you, standing and stretching. “You’ll figure it out.”

“I wish I had the confidence in myself that you have in me,” you breathe, also rising to your feet. Jeonghan’s been over for a while now, and after giving him all the gossip, you feel like you could use some time to yourself. 

“You’ll get there,” your cousin assures you, heading toward your front door so he can slip into his shoes. “Keep me updated.”

“I will. Thanks for coming to see me.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan opens your front door, stepping into the hallway before pulling you into a hug. “If I didn’t have a board meeting tomorrow, you know I’d stay longer.”

“I know. But I’m good,” you assure him. “I think I’ll sleep early tonight. This week has been a lot.”

“Sounds like it,” he nods, releasing you in favor of heading over to the elevator. Before he can press the button, however, the elevator dings, the doors opening. Wonwoo steps out. He stops infront of Jeonghan, giving him a once over before his eyes shift to you, still standing by the doorway to your unit.

Then, to your annoyance, Wonwoo grins, shaking his head and brushing past your cousin.

Jeonghan gets into the elevator, the doors closing, and as Wonwoo walks past you, you can’t help but make waves. “What?”

“I never said anything.” Wonwoo stops in front of you, hands nonchalantly tucked in the leather pockets of his jacket.

“You gave me a look,” you insist. 

He shrugs. “It’s just gonna break Gyu’s heart to know you already have a man in your life, that’s all.”

You roll your eyes. “That was my cousin.”

“Sure it was.”

“It was!” You can’t help the way your voice is raising.

“And the guys at the bar?”

“Friends!” 

“Right.” 

He turns to leave, and you swallow thickly, mind reeling for a comeback.

“I just don’t see how you can be making assumptions about me,” you state.

Wonwoo stops, gaze finding you again. “What do you mean?”

“Just that.. I mean… I’ve heard you fucking girls, mister Jeon, if that’s even your real name!” 

He actually grins at your words, eye brows raising in surprise. “Girl, actually, singular. It was one girl. A recent hookup. She’s not into gags like the others, they’re generally pretty quiet for you, aren’t they?” 

You’re so shocked by what he’s just said that you physically take a step back, jaw dropping.

“Oh, and by the way,” Wonwoo heads to his door, reaching into his jacket for his keys. “Mister Jeon is what people call my father, I’m sure you know that I prefer to be called Daddy.” 

He unlocks his apartment, flashing you a wink before he heads inside. You stand in your doorway for a solid ten seconds, processing his words before you go back to your room to scream into a pillow.

Six

After the events of the week, and work on top of that, a nap the moment you're done sending the last emails of the day is exactly what you need.

Birds are singing outside, your window ajar. The warming air carries the scent of blossoming buds, and you relax against your pillow, enjoying the feeling of your duvet against your skin.

You’re just drifting off when a loud engine jolts you back into consciousness. You flop onto your back, staring at the ceiling. 

You’ve been a motorcycle fan for long enough to know the sound of one when you hear it, and as the revving continues, you’d bet your right hand that some jackass is doing burnouts in the alley outside.

It’s probably some enthusiastic douchebag who has finally brought their motorcycle out of the garage after a long winter-

Actually, wait. You know an asshole with a motorcycle. An asshole with a Harley to be exact. 

Fucking Jeon Wonwoo. 

God, you hate that man.

Grabbing your pillow, you burry your head under it, wishing for the sounds to stop. 

Surprisingly, soon enough, you hear the motorcycle take off, with two more engines revving up to follow. 

Your apartment complex used to be so nice and peaceful.

It used to be.

Seven

After your nap had been interrupted, you’d trudged around for a while. It’s the evening now, and you have no energy to cook, so you’ve ordered takeout. When you head down to the lobby to  grab your food, you bump into Mingyu.

“Look at us, always running into each other,” he grins, watching you step by him to bend down and pick up your takeout.

“Seems like a common theme,” you agree, letting out a sigh.

“You good, neighbour? You look tired.”

“You want the truth?” you ask, straightening to look at him.

“Always.” He holds the door open for you to come back into the apartment complex. 

As you head to the elevator, you choose your words carefully, after all, you’re pretty sure Wonwoo was culprit behind the motorcycle incident two hours ago. “I just… I was trying to have a nap after work, been tired lately, and some guy was revving his motorcycle outside my window. He woke me up and I was too irritated to go back to sleep.”

As you enter the elevator, you notice Mingyu’s skin turning pink, and his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. “Actually… uh… I, uh…” He rubs the back of his neck. “I have a Harley, but uh, I got a new sportsbike, and that was me doing burnouts to test it out a little.”

Your heart lurches into your throat, your jaw dropping. When it comes to your neighbours in 317, you always find yourself conflicted. You’re annoyed at him, but at the same time, the fact that he also has a motorcycle makes this ten out of ten man even ten times hotter-

“Oh,” you look down at your takeout. 

“I’m really sorry,” he apologizes quickly. “It won’t happen again- you won’t tell our building manager it was me right? Like, we’re good?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” you let out a breath. “I mean, technically quiet hours don’t start till ten pm, and this was like, five, so I guess it’s my own fault for trying to nap so early.”

“Not your fault,” he assures you. “You definitely look like you need some rest- if it helps, I promise no burnouts near the apartment.” Mingyu even crosses his heart, and your body relaxes, shoulders slumping as you crack a smile.

“Okay, that would be nice.”

The elevator dings as it reaches your floor, and the two of you exit together, closing the short distance to your door. 

“Your takeout smells good,” Mingyu notes. “Maybe you could put yourself in a food coma and pass out for a bit, I promise there will be no noise issues tonight.”

“That sounds nice, actually,” you admit.

“Also uh… you know, you still haven’t taken me up on that offer about coming over sometime.”

When you look over at Mingyu, you find him leaning against the hallway wall, staring down at you with soft puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve been busy-” you search for an excuse. “Also, I mean, I don’t know if Wonwoo would be good with me coming over.”

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Mingyu shrugs, which is when you realize that Wonwoo must not have told Mingyu anything about your failed dates or the ghosting. 

“He just didn’t seem to like me very much when you introduced us,” you blurt out, grasping for straws.

“He always has a resting bitch face, don’t take it personally,” Mingyu assures you. “Seriously, come over sometime, we don’t bite.”

Mingyu might not, but you get the sneaking suspicion that Wonwoo does.

Eight

The reverse harem adult romance your reading had drawn you in when you’d first opened it, but as time goes by, your mind keeps wandering when you reach the sex scenes. 

Threesomes have you imagining Wonwoo and Mingyu, and try as you might, you can’t shake the image from your head.

It doesn’t help that they fit the character personalities, one puppylike lover, and one more stoic and dominant. You can’t help but wonder what the two would be like in bed, and with a groan of frustration, you slot your bookmark between the pages and set the novel down on the bed next to you.

As you sit there, deep in thought, you think about what Mingyu had said about owning a Harley. 

That’s when you realize, last summer, when Wonwoo had suggested a Harley ride night as a date- if you had gone with him, would you have met Mingyu?

You decide that Mingyu definitely would have been there.

It’s interesting how the domino effect works- or maybe this is invisible string theory; the idea that, you can pass someone, or have missed chances, but one way or another, that person will always end up in your life.

What would have happened if you’d met Mingyu that way? 

What would have happened if you’d met Wonwoo that way? 

At the moment, there’s no question as to which of the two neighbours you prefer. Mingyu is happy and welcoming, he always has a smile, and you could see yourself having a great relationship with him- if things were to take a turn that way.

But on the flip side, Wonwoo is more similar to the type you’ve dated in the past.

If one neighbour is a Doberman, then the other is a Golden Retriever. They’re like night and day, and yet, you’re drawn to both, as if some gravitational or celestial power is pulling you to them… it also helps that they both have motorcycles. 

How had it been so easy to ghost Wonwoo in the past, only to find yourself at a crossroads with his roommate seven months later?

Nine

You’re outside your apartment waiting for an Uber when two familiar men on motorcycles pull up in front of you. 

Wonwoo’s on his Harley. It’s all black, and although you’re not very well verses with motorcycle types, you’re pretty sure it’s a Fat Boy or a Street Bob- but as you stare at the wheels, you begin to lean toward Street Bob. 

Mingyu, in contrast, is on a red Kawasaki Ninja, which is evident by the name on the side. He lifts up his visor when he comes to a stop two feet away. “Hey, neighbour,” he greets you. “Waiting for someone?”

“An Uber is picking me up.”

“An Uber?” Mingyu looks around. “Where are you headed?”

“A family thing. We’re going to be drinking so I figured I shouldn’t drive,” you explain.

“Good idea,” he nods, then, without skipping a beat, he asks, “Wanna ride?”

You gaze shifts from Mingyu to Wonwoo, and you can practically see the Harley rider roll his eyes. With an aggressive rev of his engine, Wonwoo bolts off, leaving you and Mingyu in his dust.

“Uh, don’t you two have plans?” you ask.

“We did, but we were just going for a ride. I can take you where you need to be and meet him later,” Mingyu shrugs. “Seriously, don’t mind him.”

You’ve been on a motorcycle once before, and you know enough to understand that the short romper and light spring jacket you’re wearing is not enough to protect you on the back of a bike. And that’s the least of your worries. “I don’t have a helmet-”

Mingyu begins to undo his, and you watch in shock as he pulls it off, shaking out his hair and offering you the red head gear. “Take mine.”

“Isn’t it illegal to ride without one?”

“We’ll be fast- but not dangerous, I’ll be good, I promise. Where are we going?”

With a deep breath, you pull up your Aunt’s house on your phone’s map app, showing it to Mingyu. 

“I can get you there in ten minutes, easy,” he says. 

“This is not a good idea,” you warn, although you accept the helmet. 

“Cancel your Uber,” Mingyu urges softly. “Let me do this for you.”

With one last sigh, you cancel your ride, then, you allow Mingyu to help you onto the back of his bike. 

“Have you ever been on one of these before?” he asks.

“Once,” you admit, adjusting the helmet on your head before you tentatively wrap your arms around Mingyu’s large body. 

“Just hold on tight.”

“Take care of me,” you retort.

Mingyu grins. “Always.”

A moment later, he’s revving his engine, and the two of you take off on his bike, your clothes whipping around and contorting flat to the curves of your form.

You hold Mingyu tighter, and he takes one hand off his handlebars to rest it over yours for a second, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

When he pulls onto the main road, Mingyu is true to his word about not being dangerous. He doesn’t lane split or push the bike too hard. When you come up to traffic, he waits patiently, resting his elbow on your knee as if this is something the two of you have done together a hundred times before.

You become so lost in how attracted you are to Mingyu- how you have to hug him tight when he accelerates, that the trip is over before you know it. He pulls up to your aunts house, turning to offer you a hand so you can get off the Ninja. 

Your legs feel wobbly as you step on solid ground, and Mingyu helps you with the chin clasp of the helmet, removing it easily. 

“Thanks for being my backpack,” he smiles.

“Thanks for giving me a ride,” you grin back.

“If you want, you can text me when you’re done, and I’ll get you home safe. I’ll even bring a spare helmet this time, and maybe a proper riding jacket for you.”

“That would be really nice actually.”

“You got it, angel,” Mingyu flashes you a wink before he pulls the helmet onto his head. You move to the sidewalk, standing there to watch him as he gives you one last nod and takes off, the engine loud enough to be heard even as he makes it two blocks away in record time.

A low whistle startles you, and you turn to see Jeonghan standing in the driveway. “Damn, that dude was hot.”

“That’s my neighbour,” you sigh.

“Which one?”

“The good one!”

“You should take him up on that offer of hanging out,” Jeonghan suggests.

“And you should keep your nose out of my love life.”

Your cousin simply laughs. “Never going to happen.”

Ten

The jacket Mingyu brings for you when he picks you up from your family gathering is long enough to be a dress. You struggle with the thick material as you try to get on his bike, and you can see Mingyu grinning from the opening in his full face helmet.

“That’s it,” he encourages you, allowing you to settle behind him.

You pat his thigh when you’re good to go, and the two of you slot down your visors before he takes off.

It’s the late evening now, and being on his bike feels different in the dark. The city lights whip past you, and the lanes are pretty empty for Mingyu to go faster. Now that you’re both in full protective gear, there’s not as much of a need to be safe, although, as you hold tightly to your neighbour, you realize this might be as safe as you’ve ever felt.

You trust Mingyu, in a way that you can’t quite explain. 

As it was before, it’s easy to get lost in the act of being on Mingyu’s motorcycle, and before you know it, he’s pulling into your apartment complex’s underground garage. 

You hate that the ride has ended so quickly, and you hate it even more that you have to let go of Mingyu’s large, warm body. You stand next to the motorcycle while he gets off of it, and you wait patiently for him to take off his helmet before he helps you with your own.

“Do you have plans for the rest of the night?” Mingyu asks while the two of you walk toward the elevator.

“Not really,” you admit. In fact, you’re feeling a little tired. You hadn’t drank as much at the family dinner as you thought you would, and sleep sounds pretty good right about now.

“Do you wanna come see my place?”

“I really shouldn’t-”

“If you’re worried about Wonwoo, he went to work before I came to pick you up,”  Mingyu tells you. “Come on, just one drink or something. Don’t you wanna compare your one bedroom to my two bedroom?”

You are curious to see what sort of decorations these two men have- they’re mid to late twenties at best, and you love to laugh. 

“Fine, one drink,” you let out a breath as you enter the elevator, turning to look up at Mingyu. “Why do you care so much if I come over? Like, honestly?”

Mingyu meets your gaze, fiddling with the helmet in his hand. “I guess maybe… because I like you.” He shrugs. “You’re a good neighbour, and an even better backpack. You look cute in my jacket- why wouldn’t I want to get to know you better?”

“That’s a good answer,” you admit with a laugh.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he grins. 

When the two of you exit the elevator, you follow Mingyu past your apartment to his own door. You watch the way he pulls out his keys, fumbling a little to get into his place. He lets you enter first, and you step into the foreign home with a curious gaze.

You slip out of your shoes, undoing his jacket around your shoulders as you wander further into the apartment. The two men are cleaner than you would have expected. The furniture is minimalist, and mostly cream coloured- which isn’t a shade you would have thought would match the motorcycle riding, black wearing men. You wonder how the couch in the den is so well kept- there’s not a hint of stains on the nicely textured cover, no beer or food-

There’s no dirty dishes in the sink, no miscellaneous bowl of car keys and other shit that guys always tend to carry in their pockets.

In fact, this place almost looks like a ‘girl sanctuary,’ the type of pintrest board apartment inspo you’d find online. 

“What do you think?” Mingyu asks, coming up behind you and helping you take off his jacket.

“It’s really nice,” you say honestly. “Not what I expected.”

“I’m a bit of a neat freak,” he admits with a chuckle.

So he’s big, muscled, kind, rides a motorcycle, and he knows how to do housewife cleaning duties? How did you ever manage to score a jackpot like him for a neighbour? 

“Anyways, take a seat on the couch, I’ll grab some beer. You drink beer, right?”

“Sure.” You move to settle into the sofa, and Mingyu brings over two cans of lager from the fridge, cracking one open before he hands it to you. 

“Cheers,” he grins, gently clinking his can against your own. 

You take a sip, focusing on the way Mingyu sits on the other end of the couch, angling his body toward you. “So… you mentioned you work at a tattoo parlour? How did you get into that?”

“I’ve always been into art,” he explains. “My buddy Cheol was more into tattoos with me, opened up his own shop and encouraged me to apprentice with him after I graduated from uni with my arts degree. I wish there was more to it, but I really just got kind of lucky.”

The list of his good qualities just keeps getting better and better- a university educated man? Yes please.

“I guess, maybe what I’m wondering is why you don’t have any tattoos yourself?” you ask, looking at the beautiful unblemished skin shown off by his muscle shirt.

Mingyu laughs, also gazing down at his arms. “Would you judge me if I told you I’m scared of needles.”

“That’s cute,” you grin, sipping your beer. 

“You’re cute,” he retorts, mirroring your motion and trying to hide his smile behind the can in his hand. “Anyways, you said you’d been on a motorcycle before?”

“Yeah, just once.”

“Tell me about it?”

“There’s nothing much to say,” you admit. “Went on a date with a guy, he mentioned he had a sports bike, offered to take me for a ride, so I said yes.”

“So…” Mingyu taps his fingers along his beer can, “you like guys with bikes?”

You let out a laugh. “Maybe.” 

“I’m feeling better and better about my odds,” Mingyu smiles. 

“Your odds are very good,” you tell him. Now it’s your turn to drink in an effort to hide the massive grin on your face.

“Yeah? I was a little worried, I mean, I gave you my number and you didn’t text- took a little bit of convincing to get you on my bike, to get you into the apartment- I hope I didn’t overstep anything there.”

“No, you’re fine,” you assure him. “I can just… be a bit shy sometimes.”

“It’s cute though.”

Your skin heats at the compliment, heart thundering in your rib cage. “What about you? I’m into bikes, are you into cute girls?”

“A hundred percent,” he nods. “They’re my favourite kind.”

“Do you have any experience dating neighbours?”

“No, but I’d like that to change.”

“Do you think being neighbours could complicate things?” you enquire.

“I mean… if I didn’t see you as girlfriend material, then yeah, I’d never turn a neighbour into a hookup, but then again, I’m not huge into hookups to begin with,” Mingyu explains.

“You know… I’m trying to find even one red flag about you, and I’m seriously coming up empty.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

You smile, looking down at your nearly finished beer. “I guess not.”

“How about you? Any red flags?” he asks. 

Aside from the downright pornographic books you read on the daily? “Probably not.”

“Probably not, huh?” Mingyu chuckles. “Maybe I should be the one keeping a look out for red, but then again, with rose tinted glasses, red wouldn’t stand out that much to me anyways.” 

You’d not expected your night to turn out like this. You’d figured it would be a nice family dinner, some drinking, then an Uber home and sleep. Instead, you’ve been on Mingyu’s bike twice, worn his jacket, his helmet- and now you’re here in his house, with your hot neighbour flirting with you in the most wholesome way-

In your tired state, you’re feeling a little overwhelmed. Your shyness is taking over- the fear of the unknown, of making a misstep, clouding your enjoyment of the peaceful space Mingyu has created in his apartment.

“Listen, don’t take this the wrong way,” you sigh, finishing your beer, “But I’m really tired-”

“Yeah, no worries, I said just one beer and it looks like you’re done,” Mingyu is quick to down the rest of his, reaching out to take your can so he can move to the kitchen. He places the empties under his sink, and you follow, keeping your distance.

“Thank you for this though. I know we didn’t talk for that long, but I feel like I know you better,” you admit. 

“I’ve still got a lot of questions for you,” he grins. “But I’ll save those for another time. I’m not about to get in the way of a girl and her beauty sleep.”

“I appreciate that.” The two of you head to his door, and you slip your shoes on.

“Can I give you a goodbye hug or something?” Mingyu suggests. “It would feel weird letting you leave without one.”

You nod, allowing Mingyu to pull you close to his chest. He’s so tall, your cheek pressed tight to his well defined pecs- and fuck, he smells good. This isn’t the overpowering Gucci type cologne that Soonyoung wears, it’s a more muted, spicy yet clean scent. It’s the type of scent that encourages you to take a deep breath, your body relaxing as your neighbour hugs you.

“Thanks for coming over,” Mingyu whispers.

When you go to pull away, you find yourself tilting your head to look up at him. Your eyes meet, and it feels as if you’re hanging in a moment frozen in time. Your breath catches when his gaze dips down to your mouth, and you know what’s coming next.

His hand cups your cheek, stroking your skin, and he gives you ample opportunity to pull away, but you don’t. You simply stare into his beautiful chocolate brown eyes, waiting for him to make the move that you know is going to capture your heart completely.

When his lips finally touch yours, that sense of relief washes over you again. You shift in his embrace, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer. Mingyu lets out a soft sigh of contentment, parting his mouth ever so slightly so he can lick at your lower lip.

You mirror the motion, your tongues gently clashing. 

You’ve met some guys who try to force their way into your mouth, who try to dominate you- but Mingyu isn’t like that. He’s soft and fluid, reacting to your movements moreso than anything else. His hands slip down to your hips, holding you close while you kiss each other.

No first kiss has ever felt this natural, and like with riding the bike, it becomes so easy to get lost in your neighbour.

When you finally break away, you’re both breathing heavily. You can taste the beer on your lips, and it makes you release a small laugh, giddy joy surging through your entire body.

“That was…” Mingyu swallows thickly, “wow.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Wow.” 

Eleven

It’s been two weeks since you started getting to know Mingyu better. You’ve gone on motorcycle dates, stopped at food trucks while enjoying the sunshine of spring, and when Wonwoo’s not around, Mingyu has invited you over for movie nights.

While there’s been lots of kissing, and a growing desire for more, the two of you haven’t gone much farther than second base. You kind of like taking things slow with Mingyu, he’s very good at not applying any pressure, and you adore that about him.

You’re hanging out in your apartment when Mingyu calls you, asking if you have any garlic he can borrow for his meal plan. Part of you thinks it’s a little late for dinner, but you agree anyways. 

Sometimes you think he comes up with this sort of thing just to see you, stealing kisses at your door- but this time, when he comes over to grab ingredients, he doesn’t simply wait in the hallway.

“Can I come in?” he asks, peering at your apartment beyond.

“Come in?” you repeat.

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve seen my place, and I haven’t really gotten to see yours yet.” He sounds nonchalant, but you can tell that your personal space - the way you conduct yourself in your own home - is something that makes him curious.

“Okay.” You step away from the door. “Come on in.”

Mingyu bends down to kiss you as he steps over the threshold, and you grin against his lips, enjoying the way his hands softly grab your waist. 

“I’m guessing you didn’t really need garlic, did you?” you tease.

“Nope, I ate dinner after work.” Mingyu takes his shoes off while you close the door behind him, and he looks around your apartment. “It’s nice in here.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to give me a tour?” he asks.

You let out a giggle. “Okay.” 

You’ve never given a formal tour of your apartment before, but you do your best, showing him through the kitchen and the small living room area. You’ve got certain knick knacks that are special to you, and you explain them to Mingyu while he listens with a smile.

Finally, you make it to your bedroom. Before you can even open your mouth to say anything, Mingyu’s arms are wrapping around you, his chest pressed to your back, lips on your throat.

He already knows your sweet spots, and you let out a soft sigh, tilting your head to make things easier for him.

“Gyu…”

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispers in your ear, nibbling gently on the lobe.

“No.”

You hadn’t expected this tonight, but you’re at a point now where you don’t want to wait. Mingyu isn’t the type to use you and leave you. He’s made his intentions clear, and the sexual chemistry between the two of you is undeniable. 

You find yourself turning in Mingyu’s embrace, cupping his cheek so you can draw his lips to yours. He lets out an immediate groan of satisfaction, and it goes straight to your core, which flutters with delight. You kiss him deeply, pouring all your wants and desires into the meeting of your mouths.

Then your hands find the bottom of his shirt, and before you know it, you’re stripping the fabric from Mingyu’s body and tracing your hands over the muscles you love so much.

His body jolts when you tease your nails across his lower abdomen, and it prompts Mingyu to reach down, cupping your ass and easily lifting you up. Your legs wrap around his hips, tongues clashing in a lusty battle as he carries you to your bed.

Your hands trace along his strong shoulders as he lays you onto the mattress, looking down at you with blown pupils. He’s breathing heavily already, and you can see the bulge of his cock through his jeans. 

You’ve grinded against him before, sitting on his lap on his couch while he rubs your tits through your comfortable evening sweaters, so you know how big Mingyu is, but knowing he’s about to be inside of you makes your heart race in an entirely different way.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Mingyu asks again, straightening to look down at you.

“Uh huh,” you sit up, meeting his gaze. Then you reach out, undoing his buckle while keeping steady eye contact. 

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, chest heaving with each breath. “You don’t have to-”

“Don’t have to what?” you tease, moving onto the zipper, which you tug down roughly.

“Don’t have to-” he swallows thickly. “I want to make you feel good.” 

“What if you do that after?” you suggest. “I want to make you feel good first.” 

“Fuck, Angel, okay.” 

“Yeah?” You raise a brow at him, hooking your fingers in his jeans and briefs.

“Yeah,” he nods quickly. “Do whatever you want- whatever you want.”

You tug his pants down, allowing them to bag at his knees. You’re already much too focused on the cock in front of you to care about getting him fully undressed.

Your eyes take in Mingyu’s rock hard length. You’re not great with measurements, but you swear he must be seven or eight inches. He’s got a pretty mushroom tip, all flushed and pink. There’s a prominent vein running along the underside of him, and it makes your mouth water.

You haven’t sucked cock in a while, but you’d read a very good erotica about it last night, and you know exactly what to do. 

Grabbing the base of him, you angle Mingyu’s cock slightly upward, running your tongue along the vein.

“Shit,” Mingyu groans, hands flying to your head. He doesn’t apply any pressure, simply strokes you as you take the tip past your lips, suckling on it and twirling your tongue. “You’re- fuck, you’re good at this.”

You let out a happy hum, and the vibration makes him twitch, pushing him further into your mouth. 

Your eyes are closed now, and you allow yourself to enjoy the act of pleasuring Mingyu. After being so patient with you over the past few weeks, he deserves it. The sounds he’s letting out are more than enough encouragement for you, and soon, your drool begins to drip down to your fingers, making it easier for you to pump his neglected shaft.

There’s no way in Hell you’ll ever be able to fit all of him in your mouth, but unless he’s used to dating women schooled in oral aerobics or some shit, you doubt any of his past lovers have ever achieved that feat either.

Instead, you focus most of your attention on the tip, knowing that the head of his cock is where he’s got a lot of his nerve endings. 

Your tongue dips along his slit, tasting the salty precum. Mingyu moans loudly above you, fingers threading through your hair.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum too fast,” he warns you.

Part of you wants him to cum, so you go even harder- only for Mingyu to gently pull you off of him.

You blink up at the gorgeous man, pleased to find that he’s flushed. His chest, shoulders, neck and cheeks are all a pretty pink colour, and he’s panting heavily. “Seriously, Angel, I don’t want to cum yet.”

“What if I want you to cum?”

“I’m not making you swallow the first time we sleep together,” Mingyu states, and you can tell that it’s a hard boundary. “And I’m not cumming on you either- I think…” he licks his lips, “I think it’s my turn to make you feel good now.” 

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

Then Mingyu leans down over you, grabbing your shirt and tugging it off. Your pants are discarded next, left on the floor next to his own while he adjusts you on your bed.

He’s left your bra and panties on, and when his lips find yours again, you kind of appreciate that he’s intent on more foreplay.

Your core is aching through the cotton fabric, and your nipples are pressing up toward the cups still confining them. It’s driving you crazy as he kisses you deeply, but then one of his hands reaches up to massage you through your bra, and you let out a sinful whine.

“Take it off,” you whimper, “please.”

Mingyu’s mouth moves from your lips to your throat, and he reaches under you, undoing the clasp. He gently pulls the bra from your form, and his kisses finally make it to your breasts. 

His soft hair is teasing your skin with each kiss, but when his lips wrap around your sensitive nipple, you can’t even find it within yourself to care about the slight ticklish sensation. Mingyu’s got your full attention now, his teeth gently dragging across the hardened bud, making you cry out even louder.

You grab at his broad shoulders, holding onto him for dear life, wriggling under his large form. 

His cock is pressing between your legs, rubbing against your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties.

“Fuck, Gyu-” you whimper. “I want you so bad.”

He groans in response, moving to your other breast to pay it as much attention as he had the first. Your neighbour takes his time, and you enjoy every second of it, although you’re absolutely desperate for more.

You want him to take the lead, as you lean more toward a submissive temperament in bed, despite the ballsy way you’d approach sucking his cock for the first time.

You wonder if he’s aching the way you are- if he’s throbbing with need for you the way your pussy is already trying to clench around nothing, anticipating the cock that’s going to split you open in a way that no man ever has before. 

Unable to help yourself anymore, you reach down between your bodies, grabbing his length and pumping him gently. Mingyu groans against your breasts, giving you one last lick before he brings his mouth up to your own again.

“Angel, fuck-” he practically whimpers, thrusting toward your hand. “You’re not ready yet.”

“I’m ready,” you try to assure him.

“Trust me,” Mingyu’s hand slips into your panties, two fingers teasing your core, “As wet as you are, you’re not ready for me.”

“Gyu-” You want to argue, but when he pushes two digits into your core, you realize he’s right. Because even with two fingers, you feel like he’s stretching your tight walls. 

You’re so wet that it makes it easy for Mingyu to begin finger fucking you, his mouth finding your throat so he can kiss your sweet spot desperately while you continue to stroke his cock. 

“Wanna make you cum once,” he groans, “before- fuck, before I take you.”

Your core throbs at his words, and it’s clear from the smile you feel against your skin that Mingyu can feel the way your body is reacting to him.

“Do you like when I talk dirty to you, Angel?” he asks.

“Yeah.” You nod, applying more pressure as you stroke him off.

“You’re already taking my fingers so well, who got you this wet?”

“You did, Gyu,” you whimper.

“Can you cum with just fingers? Or should I rub your sensitive little clit too?”

“My clit-”

His palm immediately finds the bud of nerves, and you let out a strangled gasp, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Fuck-” Your hand stops on his cock in favour of grabbing both of his shoulders.

“Like this?” he asks, applying a little more pressure that has you wiggling beneath him. 

“Yeah, just like that,” you groan, threading your fingers through his hair, guiding him to continue kissing your throat while he finger fucks you open.

“Have you wanted this as much as I have?”

“Even more,” you confess.

“Not possible,” he retorts, but by the squelching of your pussy, you’re pretty sure you have him beat. You don’t have the energy or the mental focus to fight him on this, so you simply give in to the pleasure he’s providing you. “So good for me.”

“Gyu-” you whimper, legs shaking as your orgasm builds much too fast in the pit of your stomach.

“Always so good for me,” he continues. “The best backpack. The best neighbour. The best girl-”

You cry out as your orgasm slams into you with no warning. Something about this brand of praise has made you feral, and your core throbs around Mingyu’s fingers as he works you through your high.

“Just like that,” he coos. “So good for me.”

You draw his lips to yours, kissing him breathlessly. He kisses you back, tongue invading your mouth and gently stroking your own.

You’re practically shaking by the time your orgasm is over, and Mingyu pulls his hand out of your panties. “I’m gonna take these off now,” he tells you, pressing a kiss to your nose. “And grab a condom.”

“Actually…” You bite at your lip, meeting his gaze. “I’m on birth control.”

He pauses for a moment, and you can see the wheels practically turning in his head. “And… I mean, I know I’m clean-”

“I’m clean too,” you assure him. ‘It’s uh… it’s been a while for me, since I… well, you know.”

You can feel your skin heating at the admission of your near celibacy over the past few months. While you’ve imagined fucking all sorts of heros and villains in your books, the only thing that’s been inside you recently has been your six inch glittery pink dildo.

“And you uh… you want me to cum inside?” Mingyu clarifies.

“Please?”

Mingyu lets out a shaky breath, then he nods. “Okay, yeah, I can do that.”

He tugs your panties down your legs, and before you know it, the two of you are completely naked. Mingyu returns between your thighs, his arm muscles bulging as he holds himself over you, one hand grabbing the base of his cock so he can tease himself through your pussy lips.

“Can I convince you to let me eat you out first?”

“I need you,” you tell him, on the verge of crying if you don’t get your way.

“Another time, then.”

“Another time,” you agree with a laugh.

The tip of his cock teases by your clit and it makes your entire body jolt at the sensitivity.

“If it’s uh… if it’s too much,” Mingyu licks his lips, tearing his gaze from your core so he can look you in the eyes, “if it’s too much just let me know and I’ll stop.”

“Gyu, please, I’ll be okay-” you try to assure him, although, you’re not sure if you’re even certain with yourself on this one. There’s a possibility you might not even be able to walk tomorrow, but that’s a risk you’re more than willing to take.

He brings the tip of his cock down to your wet hole, gently pushing into you. The head alone is enough to have you moaning, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and throwing your head back against the pillows.

“Fuck-”

“Yeah,” his breath is hot against your chest, “I know, I’m sorry.”

It’s so endearing that the man is sorry his cock is so big.

“Don’t be sorry,” you let out a laugh, “I’ll just have to get used to you.”

“I like the sound of that,” Mingyu admits, pushing another inch past your wet walls. “Fuck, you have no idea how good you feel.”

“Just wait till you’re fully inside of me,” you whisper, closing your eyes and doing your best to relax your body so you can take him.

Mingyu lets out a groan, hips gently thrusting so he can coat his cock in your wet juices. Each movement has him burying deeper and deeper, earning sounds of pleasure from your lips. 

Your nails claw at his shoulders, but it’s clear that Mingyu is too focused on your pussy to even care or notice. 

“Almost there,” he tells you, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth.

Nothing in the world has ever felt like Mingyu, and as his hips finally come flush to your own and he lets out a sigh of relief, you know that there’s no coming back from this. 

You both groan “Fuck” in unison, crashing your lips together a moment later as he begins to move. He starts off slow and gentle, his cock hitting spots so deep that you swear he’s rearranging your guts

You’ve spent years reading erotica, imagining what great sex would really look like, and now, you’re finally experiencing it for yourself.

You’ve never gone completely mind numb for someone before, but with Mingyu, you’re reduced to feral instinct. Sounds like the ones leaving your lips right now are not sounds that have ever come out of you before, and you swear you’ve never been this wet in your life.

Each thrust has Mingyu’s tip rubbing against a place that has you seeing stars, and as he picks up his pace, it’s the most you can do to keep kissing him even while wanting to scream with pleasure.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, and when Mingyu releases a grunt, bringing his mouth to your throat so he can gently bite at your skin, you realize he kind of likes the pain.

The thought has your pussy tingling with even more delight, and Mingyu groans loudly.

“So good,” he moans. “So fucking good.”

“Don’t stop, please, fuck- no one has ever fucked me like this before-”

From the way Mingyu fucks you even harder, it’s clear he also has a praise kink. It’s funny how often praise and pain go hand in hand in pleasure.

You’re thankful for all the books you’ve read about this sort of thing, because they allow you to read Mingyu in a way that you’ve never imagined being able to read someone. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and you adore it.

Mingyu lifts his thigh, angling himself better on the bed so each thrust can go as deep as possible. Your headboard is hitting the wall now, and part of you almost wishes Wonwoo was home so you could annoy him with the sound as much as he’s annoyed you with it.

But at the same time, you’re glad Wonwoo is probably at work. As interesting as being a vouyer is when you’re the one listening in, due to your interesting past with your Harley loving neighbour, you’re not sure how you’d feel about him being privy to this intimate moment you’re sharing with Mingyu.

It’s clear Mingyu is completely present with you. From the sounds escaping him, you know that he’s not thinking about anyone else listening in. His ability to be completely enraptured by you makes it easier for you to get lost in him again, and when you draw his lips to yours, your mind goes pleasantly blank once more.

You’re not sure how long he fucks you like this, but soon, his hand finds your clit again, and you realize he wants you to cum with him.

“Can you give me one more?” he asks, looking down at you with those eyes you’ve come to adore.

“Yeah,” you nod, already feeling the tightening of your abdominal muscles. You’re still sensitive from your first orgasm, and it’s way too easy for him to get you there again, especially with the way his cock drags against your inner walls and sets your entire body on fire.

“Fuck, you’re getting so tight, Angel, holy shit-” Mingyu groans deeply, pressing his forehead against your own. Each panting breath, each whimpered moan and grunt that escapes Mingyu has you closer and closer to the edge.

He should seriously consider getting a job reading erotica for money, like on the Quinn app or something, because fuck, no man has ever sounded this sexy before. 

“Come on,” he encourages you, “I won’t be able to last, fuck- you’re gonna cum with me, right?”

“Yeah-”

“You’re close?”

“Yes-” You dig your nails into his shoulders, closing your eyes and focusing on the way he’s circling your clit. 

“Please, please, please,” he practically begs, bringing his lips to your ear. “Be a good girl and cum for me again, come on, Angel, cum on my cock.”

You explode around him, crying out. Your legs tighten around his hips, and Mingyu’s entire body shudders as he cums with you. You can feel your core throbbing around him, milking him of his cum as he fills you to your absolute limit.

You’re both gasping, holding each other like life lines while orgasms ravage your bodies. It’s Heaven, but from the way your muscles are contracting, it’s also a little bit of Hell. Nothing has felt this good, but you know you’re going to be exhausted in the morning- fuck, you’re already exhausted.

Mingyu’s thrusts have faltered, but he tries to ride you through your highs. Soon, he’s half collapsing on top of you, your sweaty chests pressed together. Then he’s kissing you desperately, and it feels like you’re both pouring a thousand unsaid words into the meeting of your lips.

You make out for a short while, and then Mingyu pulls out of you, reaching for the kleenex box on your nightstand. “Here,” he offers, holding it between your thighs to stop any cum from dripping onto the bed.

“Thanks,” you let out a small laugh. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom.”

“Good idea.”

Your legs are wobbly when you stand up, and it reminds you of the first time you’d gotten off the back of his bike.

You don’t mind Mingyu making it hard for you to walk, in both ways.

Inside the bathroom, you do your best to use the toilet and clean up the cum. After double checking yourself in the mirror and deciding to brush your teeth for good measure, you head back to your bedroom… which is where you find Mingyu flipping through the most recent book you’ve been reading.

Your heart lurches into your throat, body freezing in the doorway. 

“I didn’t know you read this sort of thing,” Mingyu muses, looking up at you.

“What?” you squeak.

“Erotica,” he responds casually. “This seems interesting though.”

You slowly approach the bed, joining Mingyu under the covers while he reaches to put your book back on your nightstand. 

“Uh…” you don’t even know what to say. “I didn’t mean for you to see that.”

Mingyu laughs, pulling you close to his chest. “Why not? It’s not like I’m judging you.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. Why would I? I think I read somewhere that men like visual porn and women lean towards the written stuff, nothing to be ashamed of.”

He really is the perfect man.

“Plus, I keep seeing shit on tiktok about booktok girls needing their bikertok boy, I don’t mind filling that role for you.” Another nonchalant comment that makes your heart do somersaults. “Although… aren’t all of you booktok girls into masked men and threesomes and shit?”

His words make you hide your face against his chest, shyness overcoming you. 

“Sorry, was that an overstep?” he laughs, rubbing your back with a large, warm hand.

“No, I’m just not used to talking about this, especially not with guys I just slept with.”

“The erotica you read is the fantasy you’re interested in, it would be a shame never to talk about it,” Mingyu muses. “That threesome between the demon knight and the guardian angel seemed pretty interesting.”

“God, you really weren’t supposed to read the book on my nightstand.” You can feel your skin getting hotter with embarrassment with each passing second.

“You’re adorable.” Mingyu cuddles you closer. “Look, I’m just going to put this out there, and if your answer is a no, then it’s a no… If you ever did want to try a threesome, Wonwoo would be into it.”

Now your heart is really racing, and your entire body stiffens in Mingyu’s embrace.

“Shit, my bad for even suggesting it,” Mingyu apologizes immediately.

“It’s not that…” you take a deep breath. If you’re going to continue things with Mingyu, he needs to know about your past - however unimportant it is - with Wonwoo. “Look… I uh… I matched with Wonwoo on a dating app last summer, nothing came out of it, but, I don’t know, I still feel awkward around him.”

Mingyu is silent for a few seconds, and you’re too scared to look up at his face, too scared of the expression you might find there.

“That would actually explain a lot,” Mingyu says finally. 

“It would?”

“Yeah, when I first introduced you two, he was more of an asshole than usual. And that first time I offered you a ride on my bike, he just took off. I kind of chalked it up to him being socially awkward sometimes around cute girls, but, now things make a bit more sense.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“It’s all good,” Mingyu assures you, rubbing your back. “Honestly, I’m pretty tired. How do you feel about the two of us staying here tonight, cuddling till we fall asleep, and talking more about this in the morning?”

You let out a sigh of relief. “That actually sounds perfect.”

Twelve - Wonwoo

As if listening to you and Mingyu fuck the first time wasn’t enough, Wonwoo had been woken up at three am, and then again at seven to the sound of your moans carrying through his walls.

His room is dark thanks to his black out curtains, but in the blackness of his room, Wonwoo finally snaps. He’d done his best to wear noise cancellers the first time, to put his head under his pillow the second, but now, Wonwoo has lost all of his resolve.

Your small whimpers are simply too hard to resist, and as Wonwoo’s hand slips down to his aching cock, he can’t help but wonder what would have happened if things had worked out with you all those months ago. It could be him that you’re under right now, not his best friend, and that’s a conflicting thought. 

Wonwoo lets out a quiet sigh as he begins to stroke his hard length. He closes his eyes, focusing on the muffled sounds of pleasure that make it through the walls.

When Mingyu had first mentioned that Wonwoo’s escapades had been keeping you up, he’d dismissed it, but now after being woken three times, he can see your annoyance. 

He’ll have to try to go easier on you. 

As Wonwoo works himself up to your moans, he wonders if you’ve ever been in this exact situation; touching yourself while he got off with someone else just a few feet through a wall.

The thought sends a shiver up Wonwoo’s spine and he shifts under his duvet, tossing the fabric off of himself, abdominal muscles clenching with delight.

From the sound of Mingyu’s thrusts and the headboard hitting the wall, Wonwoo’s pretty sure Mingyu is close already- fuck, he would be too if he had you to bury his morning wood into. And from the noises escaping you, Wonwoo knows you’re just as close.

He applies more pressure to his aching cock, speeding up his strokes- Wonwoo wants to cum with you and his roommate, although he’s not quite sure why. 

Sure, once you both cum, his entertainment is over, but there’s a need to be paired with you both, something that goes beyond a voyeuristic act like watching porn, which he could easily switch to when you’re finished if he wanted to prolong the experience.

A muffled “Fuck, I’m close” has Wonwoo’s entire body tensing, and as your moans crescendo, the tightly wound knot inside of him snaps. He lets out a gasp, pumping his cock while ropes of his own cum paint his chest. 

He wishes his hand was you, but the image of you instead of his hand is enough to make another wave of pleasure pass over him. He works himself through it to the point of overstimulation, finally stopping when the headboard sounds cease.

Wonwoo lays there for a moment, eyes closed, catching his breath.

When he finally turns his phone flashlight on and looks down at his chest, he realizes he’s cum more listening to you and Mingyu fuck than he’s probably ever cum inside of a girl.

It’s then that Wonwoo realizes how truly screwed he is. 

Thirteen

Seungkwan had nearly spat out his drink when you’d revealed Mingyu’s offer to invite Wonwoo into your bed. Soonyoung’s jaw had dropped, and it’s stayed that way. Seokmin looks like he’s having a panic attack, his cheeks all flushed, his hands tugging at the neckline of his dress shirt.

“So what are you going to do?” Seungkwan asks finally, taking a sip of his Gin and Tonic with his wide eyes glued to you.

“I’m honestly not sure,” you admit, letting out a sigh.

“Bitch,” Seungkwan rolls his eyes, “don’t give us that. You read smutty threesome shit all the time, and here you are, being propositioned by your hot neighbour and his best friend, who both ride motorcycles, I might add- this is a fucking no brainer and we all know it.”

“You’ve been wanting a proper fuck session forever,” Soonyoung agrees.

“It’s actually like… one of your biggest things,” Seokmin points out, nodding. 

“But don’t you think this would be messy?” you ask. “Like, if these were randoms I’d never see again, it would be one thing- but they live next to me, and I’m low key dating Mingyu. Wonwoo doesn’t seem like the polyamory type.”

“Babes,” Seungkwan reaches a hand across the table to squeeze your forearm, “This doesn’t have to be polyamory. Wonwoo can just be some dude that fucks you with his bestie sometimes. You can mostly focus on Mingyu, I mean, after all, we all know you and Wonwoo don’t even really like each other after the whole… ghosting thing.” 

“Which is so valid,” Seokmin assures you, also reaching out to grab your hand. “Who suggests a group motorcycle trip as a first date, that was very stupid.”

“Plus, didn’t you mention hearing Wonwoo fuck some girl through your wall?” Soonyoung asks, playing with the straw in his bellini. “I bet you’re wondering why she was being so loud. I mean, obviously his dick game must be good.”

“I have been wondering,” you admit. “Mingyu is so soft with me, so good and gentle- Wonwoo seems like he might be the opposite.”

“And you’ll never really know until you give this a try.” Seungkwan pats your hand encouragingly. “I think you have your answer, babes. Go make those smutty dreams of yours come true, or you’ll regret it the rest of your life.” 

Fourteen

Mingyu’s been coming over more and more often. Even though his place is just next door, he tends to have a preference for holding you until he passes out in your bed. You don’t mind, being in his arms helps you get the best rest you’ve had in ages, and you never feel closer to him than you do when you wake up next to him in the morning.

It’s a Sunday, and you’re laying in bed. Mingyu had gotten up, decided he’d wanted you for breakfast, fucked your brains out, and now, you’re stroking each others skin while you catch your breaths.

“Are you thinking about something?” Mingyu asks, and you realize he must have noted your silence.

You take a deep breath, looking up into his eyes. He’s done his best to foster an environment of safety- you know you can talk to him about anything, and now seems as good a time as any to broach a few subjects that have been weighing you down.

“What are we doing?” you ask.

“We’re cuddling?”

You let out a laugh. “No, I mean… what are we doing? Like… I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, and from the way you spoke at the start of all of this, it sounded like you were looking for a relationship, but ever since you mentioned inviting Wonwoo into bed, I guess I’m just a little confused about… the trajectory of this. Sharing the girl you want to date exclusively with your bestie just doesn’t seem like a usual start to a new relationship.” 

“Valid question,” he nods. “I can see where I caused some confusion… I guess, I mean- It’s not that I want to date you exclusively, I already am dating you exclusively, and I have been since the start.”

While this is news to you, you suppose it’s not the most surprising thing. Mingyu has been spending so much time with you lately, he’d have to be Superman or the world’s more snakey person to be able to juggle anyone else.

“When it comes to the whole Wonwoo thing- If I’m being honest, we’ve been friends forever. We’ve had like… three or four threesomes together? So I guess I feel comfortable inviting him because we have that foundation of trust there, and based on the stuff you read - correct me if I’m wrong - but I think a threesome is on your bucket list.”

Now this is some hot gossip. You’d never for a moment considered the idea that Wonwoo and Mingyu have shared girls together before- but now that the idea is out in the open, you feel stupid for it having never crossed your mind. 

“So there really wouldn’t be any jealousy or any problems if Wonwoo joined us?” you clarify.

“There never have been before. Wonwoo’s not the relationship type. If I honestly thought there would be a problem, I wouldn’t have brought it up,” Mingyu tells you. “Sounds like you’re open to it.”

“I am,” you admit. “Also… I’m exclusively seeing you too, by the way.”

Mingyu laughs. “I know, Angel. Wonwoo is an exception, the only exception.”

“Agreed.” 

“So…” Mingyu pulls you tighter to his chest. “Are we gonna bring this up with him?”

“Do you want to ask him?”

“I think we should do it together.”

The idea of bringing this up with Wonwoo makes your heart race. “You think he’ll react okay?”

“Angel, he matched with you on Tinder before, and tried to take you out three times, even if you did ghost him, you’re way too sexy for him to ever say no to.”

Fifteen

When you’d arrived at Mingyu’s place after dinner, he’d suggested a movie night. Wonwoo usually gets off work around one am, and with his Harley, Mingyu expected him to be back at one thirty at the latest. 

Around midnight, you’d fallen asleep, with Mingyu following close behind, and when the sound of the front door unlocking finally pulls you from your slumber, a quick check at the clock tells you it’s already past two.

Mingyu groans behind you, pulling you closer, pressing his lips to the back of your neck. 

Wonwoo walks into the den area in time to see the exchange, and he pauses by the open concept kitchen, staring at you in the dim darkness of the space. 

“What are you doing out here on the couch?” he asks.

“We were waiting for you,” you say softly, pushing at Mingyu’s hand in an effort to wake him up fully.

Wonwoo stays quiet, and after a moment, Mingyu finally groans and sits up, turning to look at his best friend. Mingyu rubs at his eyes, yawning. “We have something to talk to you about,” he mumbles.

“Let's hear it,” Wonwoo sighs, setting his helmet and gloves onto the kitchen counter before he goes to remove his leather jacket.

“You know what… maybe it’s too late for this,” you suggest, turning to look at Mingyu.

“Don’t be shy,” he encourages you, pulling you closer and kissing your throat. 

You note the way your body reacts, head tilting to the side to give him better access. It’s clear that you’re not as afraid of being watched as you’d thought you might be, and when your gaze shifts to Wonwoo, you find him staring at the place where you and Mingyu’s bodies connect.

A muscle in his jaw feathers, and you see the way his fist clenches at his side, but he stays silent.

“Do you want me to do it?” Mingyu asks.

“Yes, please.”

Mingyu gives a reassuring kiss to your cheek. “I know you two have a past-” he begins.

“She told you about that, did she?” Wonwoo interrupts.

“Uh huh, she’s a good girl like that,” Mingyu holds you tighter. “Anyways, I know you two have a past, and I know you’re attracted to each other-”

“Mingyu.” There’s a warning tone in Wonwoo’s voice now, and it makes your skin tingle. 

“I’m too tired to do this right,” Mingyu sighs, “but listen, she wants to try a threesome, we’ve done threesomes, I figured I’d put it on the table, if you’re interested.”

Wonwoo stands in the kitchen for a moment, then he lets out a sigh, turning and placing both of his hands on the counter. He looks down at the ground, and you wonder what’s going through his head.

“Aren’t you two dating?” he asks finally.

You open your mouth to respond but decide to shut it, turning to Mingyu to allow him to answer. “Yeah, I mean, we’re exclusive.”

“How can you be exclusive if you’re inviting me into a fucking threesome?” Wonwoo snaps.

“Because you’re you,” Mingyu shrugs. “Why do you seem mad?”

Wonwoo lets out a deep sigh. “This isn’t the right way to start a relationship, Gyu.”

You find it comical that Wonwoo - of all people - is trying to school Mingyu on how to treat a girl. 

“I’m pretty confident in us,” Mingyu grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You kind of love how sure he is, and it makes your trust in the budding relationship feel even stronger. “Look, if you don’t want to-”

“I want to.” 

It feels like the air is knocked from your lungs. Yes, you’ve considered this for weeks, but part of you never really thought it would get this far, never thought Wonwoo would actually agree-

“I’ve been listening to you two fuck through a wall for weeks,” Wonwoo continues. “Of course I fucking want to.”

“So what’s the problem?” Mingyu asks, brows furrowing at why his friend still sounds so angry.

Wonwoo turns to look at you. “This is going to complicate things.”

“Only if you let it,” Mingyu argues. “Look, you’re both overthinkers, and I get that, but with me here, I’ll keep us all grounded, I promise.”

“It’s not that easy,” Wonwoo sighs.

“It can be, if you both let it be.” He sounds so sure, and you want to believe him on this-

“So is this just going to be a one time thing?” Wonwoo asks, and you note the way his gaze shifts from his roommate to you. Then you feel Mingyu’s eyes too.

“Uh… I hadn’t thought that far,” you admit.

“We could always just go with the flow,” Mingyu suggests.

“You know I’m not that kind of guy,” Wonwoo retorts.

“Honestly, I know it was just a simple case of ghosting, but you two don’t seem to actually like each other that much,” Mingyu points out, “unless I’m misreading something. So how about we give it a shot, and go from there?”

Wonwoo looks to you, and after a moment to consider it, you nod, he mirrors the motion soon after.

“Fine. I’m in.”

“Can you try to sound more enthusiastic?” Mingyu teases. “This is my Angel I’m letting you get a taste of.”

“Don’t test your luck,” Wonwoo warns. “Are we doing this right now?”

“I’m already half hard just thinking about it,” Mingyu grins. “Are you up for this, Angel?”

Things are happening a little fast for you, but you worry that if you don’t bite the bullet and try this now, you might chicken out if you give yourself enough time to overthink and talk yourself out of it. 

“Let’s do it,” you respond. 

Wonwoo stares at you from the kitchen, and you wait to see who will move first. Finally, Wonwoo nods. “Okay, my room.”

He walks away without another word. Mingyu is quick to get up, reaching down to tug you to your feet. You’re a little shocked at how abrupt Wonwoo is being, and how quick Mingyu is to act on Wonwoo’s locational choice.

You’ve never seen the inside of Wonwoo’s room, and you find it even more minimally furnished than the rest of the apartment. With nothing but a bed, a dresser and a gaming station set up, Wonwoo clearly has very few loves in his life. There are no books, no clothes strewn about- it almost looks like a room straight from the Ikea Catalogue with the theme ‘my ocd teenage gamer’s sanctuary.’

The only thing of any true interest, is a tiled wall mount light piece, and from the way Wonwoo is standing near it and looking down at his phone, you’re pretty sure it’s bluetooth. As Mingyu leads you to go sit with him on the bed, the tiles begin to change colour, and you’re not even surprised when Wonwoo goes for a red hue that makes this entire situation feel correctly sinful.

Mingyu sits behind you, prompting you to settle on his lap. His hands find your thighs, stroking you through your sweatpants. You can tell he’s waiting on something, and when Wonwoo finally looks up at the two of you, setting his phone down, you realize just how much power you’re about to hand over to the man you’d ghosted all those months ago.

Wonwoo approaches you and Mingyu, coming to stand right in front of you. He meets your gaze, but he’s quiet. You hold your tongue, knowing that now is not the time to start being a brat.

“So,” Wonwoo says finally. “My guess is Mingyu’s been going easy on you since you started fucking.”

Mingyu lets out a laugh behind you, and you find yourself wanting to defend him. “I wouldn’t say he’s been going easy on me-”

“I’m going to make an assessment, and you’re going to tell me if I’m wrong,” Wonwoo states. “You look like the kind of girl who wants to be dominated. The shy ones can sometimes be the kinkiest girls you’ll ever meet, and something tells me that if you’re interested in a threesome - interested enough to let me be the one to come in here and fuck you - you’ve got some specific itches that need to be scratched. Mingyu’s a vanilla boy. He doesn’t even like to call sleeping with a girl fucking. I’m betting he gives you everything you want, never makes you work for it, or beg for it, or any of that shit. The guy wakes up three times a night to rail you for fuck’s sake. So I’m guessing, even though he probably meets most of your needs, there’s something you’re missing that Mingyu thinks I can provide.”

Mingyu’s mouth finds your throat, pressing soft kisses that wordlessly tell you he’s not about to answer this assessment, it’s fully on you.

“I…” you swallow thickly. “I guess, I mean, that sounds correct.”

“You’re happy with Mingyu.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but you find the need to answer it anyways, so you nod quickly. 

“Very happy.”

“But he doesn’t dominate you.”

You shake your head.

“And tonight, you want someone to tell you what to do.”

You nod.

“You want someone to make you scream the way I made that other girl scream, the girl that kept you up at night. You want what I was giving her.”

“God, yes,” you admit, letting out a shuddery breath. You can feel Mingyu smile against your throat, and he wraps his arms tighter around you, holding you close to his chest. You can feel his cock straining up against your ass, and it’s driving you wild already.

“What’s off the table?” Wonwoo asks. “Be thorough.”

“I think… no anal. Hard pass on anal, at least, right now,” you start. “And… please don’t be mean to me? Like… don’t degrade me?”

“If you’re our good girl, there will be no reason to degrade you, will there?” Wonwoo says smoothly, reaching out to cup your jaw. His thumb brushes by your lips and you open your mouth for him, accepting the digit that presses flat to your tongue. “See, you’re just a good girl looking for direction, there won’t be a problem tonight.”

He removes his hand, and part of you mourns the loss. 

“Everything else is on the table?” he clarifies.

“Nothing gross.”

“Nothing gross,” Wonwoo repeats with a laugh. “I guess that’s all subjective, but I get what you mean.”

God, you wonder what dirty, nasty things this man has done in his lifetime. 

“Safeword?” Wonwoo asks next.

You take a deep breath, only needing a moment to consider one. “Harley.” 

Mingyu groans behind you, his hands teasing up your thighs, closer and closer to where you need him while he begins to suck on your sweet spot. You can tell from his reaction that the safe word pleased him, and you know that everyone is aware how close you are to letting the fun actually begin.

Wonwoo has done his due diligence, now, he just has to do you.

“Gyu, how about you get her warmed up?” Wonwoo suggests, and the man you’re sitting on wastes no time with the request. Mingyu immediately slips his hand under the waistband of your sweatpants, fingers finding your clit through your panties while you squirm on his lap.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, “she’s so wet already.”

“That’s no surprise,” Wonwoo says nonchalantly, pivoting and moving away.

You watch him go, curious as to what he’s up to. Mingyu, meanwhile, is focused on getting your attention. He pushes your panties to the side, stroking your pussy, teasing as if he’s about to dip his fingers into you, only to circle your clit again.

You snap way too easily, turning to press kisses along his jaw. You reach a hand up to cup his cheek, prompting him to meet your lips. All it takes is a little tongue action for Mingyu to also break, finally slipping a digit into your wet core.

You whimper at the feeling, grinding down on his hand. The wiggling of your hips adds friction to the front of Mingyu’s pants, and he releases his own groan of pleasure. 

He adds a second finger and you find yourself gasping. Your thighs spread to accommodate Mingyu. His slow stroking is driving you wild, and the ever constant pressure on your clit only intensifies the situation.

“Lay her down,” Wonwoo’s voice snaps you out of your Mingyu haze, and you break the kiss to blink up at Wonwoo.

You notice something in his hands, but before you can get a better look, Mingyu is pulling his hand from your core and standing up, taking you with him. 

He gently places you onto the bed, tearing off your pants. His fingers go to hook in your underwear, but one tutting sound from Wonwoo makes him stop in his tracks.

“Leave those on for now,” Wonwoo instructs. “You might be skipping things because you’re needy, but I remember your panty kink.”

Panty kink? Mingyu has a panty kink?

Fuck.

You wonder how much Wonwoo knows about Mingyu’s sexual preferences, things that you haven’t even learned yet.

No matter how worried you were about this before you agreed to a threesome, it’s becoming more and more clear that Wonwoo might carry the keys to unlocking Mingyu’s full potential in bed- now, you’re worried what that means for the fully monogamous aspect of your relationship.

“Take off your shirt and bra for us,” Wonwoo prompts next. “I want to see you.”

His voice had softened at the end of the request, and the fact that Wonwoo has a good mix between commanding, and a tone that’s almost on the pleading side, has you immediately making good on what he’s just asked of you.

You slip your shirt off, tossing it onto the floor. Arching your back, you get at the clasp of your bra, and soon, it joins the discarded fabric next to the bed.

Mingyu gets onto the mattress between your thighs, his hands stroking up your legs, which spread for him again.

“Here,” Wonwoo tosses the thing he’d been holding onto your chest.

When you pick it up, you realize it’s a blindfold.

Wonwoo meets your questioning gaze. “Put that on. You trust us, right?” 

You swallow thickly, then, you slip on the blindfold, obscuring your vision completely.

“That’s our good girl,” Wonwoo muses, and his satisfaction has your core throbbing. He’s being a lot nicer than you’d hoped he would be- part of you had wondered if this would a rage fueled fuck, revenge for the ghosting. But the way Wonwoo’s treating you- it’s clear he has no animosity toward you for your past, regardless of the cold way he’s been acting toward you up until tonight.

Even with the blindfold, it’s clear who’s still rubbing your legs. And when Mingyu shifts his weight, bending down to press kisses along your inner thighs, you know it’s still him.

Although there aren’t any surprises happening in terms of who is touching you, with your vision cut off, every brush of Mingyu against your skin feels even more intense. Without the pressure of keeping your eyes open, or following the action with your gaze, you can simply lay back and enjoy what’s happening.

Mingyu’s mouth reaches your core, and his breath through the fabric makes you twitch.

When his tongue makes contact with your wet panties, you both let out groans. The world seems suspended in anticipated pleasure, if even just for a moment, before Mingyu practically dives in.

His tongue pushes at your panties, and the teasing aspect of his muscle prodding at your core has your stomach already twisting into knots. It’s like he’s trying to devour your underwear, trying to push his tongue through so he can get at you-

You’d never imagined keeping your pussy covered with a thin piece of fabric would reveal to you how desperate Mingyu is to properly be eating you.

Your hands reach down, tangling in Mingyu’s hair, and you begin to grind against his face, using his nose to add pressure to your clit.

Something brushes by your nipple, and you practically jump at the contact. Then, the soft bud is pinched between two fingers. It’s not a hard pinch, not enough to hurt, but enough to have your pussy throbbing even more from the idea of pain. 

You also know that it’s Wonwoo who has finally decided to touch you, and you’re kind of scared of the effect that’s having.

Mingyu doesn’t even notice his friend beginning to play with your tits, he’s much too distracted by licking your core through your panties. You’d bet that if you took your blind fold off right now, you’d find his own eyes closed, his mind completely consumed by the act of being close to your pussy without really being able to get at it.

“Does he feel good?” Wonwoo asks.

“Uh huh,” you nod, tightening your grip in Mingyu’s hair so you can grind harder against his mouth.

“He’s already nearly breaking,” Wonwoo muses, “how far along are you?”

“I-” You swallow thickly. “I don’t know.”

“I want you to enjoy the teasing, want you to be brought to the edge like this, and when you’re finally about to snap, I’ll let him pull your panties to the side. You can ride his face while you cum for us.”

Your muscles clench at his words, and you nod quickly. “Okay.”

“Where are your manners?” He pinches your nipple even more roughly, and you let out a delighted squeal.

“Okay, yes, thank you, thank you, Wonwoo,” you correct yourself.

“Good girl.” The pinching subsides, but you almost miss the pain. “You look good like this.”

“Thank you!” you blurt out, not wanting to fumble your manners so early just because he’s being sweet to you.

Wonwoo’s fingers leave your breast, and your focus shifts to Mingyu again. He’s begun rubbing his nose against your clit, and you’d bet that Wonwoo’s words about getting you to the edge have inspired the motion.

Mingyu knows that clit stimulus will get you there faster than the teasing of his tongue along your panties, and you give yourself to the pleasure he’s providing.

Wet lips wrap around your nipple and your body jolts. One your hands immediately flies to the back of Wonwoo’s head, threading through his soft curls while he sucks on you. He releases a groan of satisfaction. You respond with a whimper of your own, pushing your chest up toward his mouth.

Nothing has ever felt like this.

Having two sexy men worship you is making your body short circuit faster than it ever has before.

You can feel your orgasm rising in your stomach, and before you even know it, you’re letting out a gasp. “Fuck, I’m close- shit, thank you, fuck, I’m gonna-”

You can’t even finish your sentence, Mingyu tugs your panties to the side, pushing two digits into your hole while his lips find your clit, sucking the sensitive bud while he groans like a starved man.

Wonwoo’s teeth simultaneously graze your nipple, and the combination of stimuli is enough to throw you over the edge.

Your pussy clamps down on Mingyu’s fingers, waves of pleasure exploding out from your core. The loudest moan you’ve ever released sings out of you, and your grip tightens in both of their curls. You’re used to having one anchor, Mingyu, who you hold onto to keep you from floating too high to cloud nine, but now, even with two anchors, you still find yourself drifting away into a state of bliss you’ve never even dreamed of.

Wonwoo’s free hand finds your neglected breast, and a pinch at your nipple has even more electric energy surging through you, your back arching at how intense this all is.

Mingyu hasn’t stopped between your thighs, his fingers are unrelenting inside of your throbbing core, his tongue flicking your clit better than any vibrator or toy ever has.

You cum, and cum, and cum-

Mingyu releases a sinful groan, and you can feel something splash your inner thighs. Mingyu pulls away from your clit, licking up the liquid-

Wonwoo’s mouth leaves your breasts, and you can feel his gaze slipping between your legs.

“Fuck, I didn’t know you could squirt, baby,” he muses, massaging your breast in a way that almost feels loving.

“I didn’t-” you struggle to speak amidst your moans, “I can’t-

“No one’s ever made you squirt before?” Wonwoo finishes your sentence for you.

“No, sir, I mean- yes, sir-”

You hear Wonwoo let out a chuckle, and he pinches your nipple, making you cry out even more. “Sir, huh? Looks like our good girl has really learned her manners, Gyu.”

You’re not sure where the title had come from, but calling Wonwoo ‘sir’ had just felt right, it still feels right, as you writhe against his bed sheets.

“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Wonwoo sighs. Fingers brush by your cheek, and the sudden touch makes you flinch. “She’s crying, Gyu.”

Mingyu groans deeply, his fingers coming to a stop in your pussy. When he removes them, and both men pull away, you can finally take a deep breath after the intensity of your orgasm. Your entire body shudders as you try to steady yourself after what they’ve just given you.

In the periphery, you can hear a wet sucking sound, and you’d bet your life that Mingyu is licking his fingers clean.

“Squirting all over him like that got your boyfriend hard as fuck, baby, I think I’ll be nice and let him fuck you now.”

God, there’s so much you want to think about with that sentence- specifically the way Wonwoo just referred to Mingyu as your boyfriend, a term that you haven’t yet used- but you’re also so needy for Mingyu’s cock now that you can’t sit and ponder the relationship development. 

“Yes, please, Mingyu, fuck, need your cock-” you whine, reaching down to tug your panties off-

Another set of hands grabs the fabric, and before you can fumble to get your underwear down your legs, Mingyu simply tears them in two to get at you.

His cockhead is rubbing against your soaked folds a moment later, and you let out a whimper of desperation. 

“Fuck, Angel, you’re doing so good for us,” Mingyu groans, slipping the head into you.

“Gyu-” you whimper, grabbing at the bed sheets, your eyes rolling into the back of your head from the stretch of his girthy tip.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he tells you, one hand flattening on your abdomen to keep you still. “I could slide all the way in like this-”

“Do it,” Wonwoo says simply. “Bet she’d fucking love that.”

“I would,” you agree, whimpering at the idea of him filling you up with one powerful thrust. “Please, split me open-”

The words no sooner leave your mouth than Mingyu is doing just as you’d asked. In one motion, he sinks the entirety of his cock into your wet, ready hole. 

His hips hit flush to your own, and you release something between a cry and a scream. Your inner walls struggle desperately to accommodate the large intrusion that your body is still not used to even after fucking Mingyu countless times.

Before Mingyu, ‘Like a Virgin’ had just been a Madonna song, now, it’s something you understand completely.

Mingyu’s mouth finds your neck as he leans his entire, large, muscled body over your own. His lips are hot as they suckle on your sweet spot, and you grab at his strong shoulders, wrapping your legs around his hips.

He starts slow with his motions, only pulling out slightly. With each small rut, his cock sinks so deep that it hits a spot that makes you go mind numb.

You’re a gasping, wriggling mess for Mingyu, and from the sounds leaving his own lips, you know he loves it.

His pace starts to increase. You can feel your pussy tingling with each thrust, the vein along the underside of his cock stimulating your walls perfectly.

Mingyu draws your lips to his own, and you find yourself in a desperate clash of tongues. 

“How cute,” Wonwoo’s voice draws you back to reality. “For the record, baby, I’ve never seen Mingyu this into someone.”

God, why is he being so nice to you?

Why does the thought that you make Mingyu come undone unlike anyone else have your pussy throbbing?

Your hand moves before your mind even registers what you’re doing. It flails out toward Wonwoo’s voice, and you’re pretty sure you make contact with his thigh.

“What are you doing?” Wonwoo asks, tone shifting.

You break the kiss with Mingyu, and his lips find your throat while you address his friend. “Wanna touch.”

Wonwoo is silent, and moments feel like minutes. Then, you hear a belt buckle, and a zipper being pulled down.

“You just wanna touch?” Wonwoo prompts. 

Before you can even respond, Mingyu is nipping at your ear. He’s breathing heavily, fucking you faster. “Do you wanna suck him off, Angel? I won’t be mad if you do.”

This is a threesome, it wouldn’t be fair if Wonwoo didn’t get a bit of you too…

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Wonwoo prompts.

“Yes, I wanna suck you off,” you clarify, doing your best to make your voice sound confident.

Mingyu groans, and then he pulls off of you. You whine at the loss of him, but he flips you onto all fours, pulling your ass into the air so he can push his cock into you again. You do your best to steady yourself on your hands, and the bed dips in front of you, signaling Wonwoo’s arrival.

“Here,” Wonwoo’s voice is soft, as soft as his touch when he pulls the blindfold off of you. “Wanna see that pretty face when you choke around my cock.”

In the red light from the tiled wall mount, Wonwoo looks insane. Yeah, a little insane in the crazy way, but insanely sexy too.

He’s taken his shirt off, and you’re shocked to find washboard abs that make you drool immediately. His curls are all flouncy and illuminated by the red, like a halo, or even devil horns. His jeans are undone, but he doesn’t have his cock out yet, which you kind of appreciate.

Although you can see his length straining against the black denim, he didn’t immediately stick his dick down your throat, he’s giving you time to adjust to the new position.

You blink up at him, and Wonwoo smiles, cupping your cheek. “You’re doing so good, baby.”

“So good,” Mingyu echoes, digging his fingers into your hips as he begins to fuck you like a mad man.

“Sir,” you breathe.

“Yes, baby?”

“Can I suck you off now?”

Wonwoo’s grin widens. “Go for it.”

You realize he’s not going to help you take his cock out, not yet at least. It’s difficult to hold yourself up with one hand while Mingyu fucks you, your free one reaching for his jeans. You hook your fingers in the fabric, trying to tug them down.

Part of you thinks Wonwoo likes watching you struggle. He’s said he’d be nice, wouldn’t degrade you, and he’s not, but this feels like it’s bordering on humiliation. 

Here you are, getting fucked stupid, holding yourself up on one shaky hand while the other tugs desperately at his pants, trying to free his cock so you can have it sink down your throat-

“You’re cute,” Wonwoo muses, finally giving in.

He pushes his pants down, his cock springing up against his abdomen.

He’s long. Maybe not as long as Mingyu, and not as thick either, but that just means you might actually be able to take him fully into your mouth, unlike your boyfriend’s monster cock that you can’t even fully suck halfway.

Even though Wonwoo isn’t as big as Mingyu, he’s confident in himself, and that makes things all the more sexy.

He grabs the base of his length, holding the tip out for you.

Meeting his eyes, you open your mouth, sticking out your tongue.

Wonwoo taps himself along the wet muscle, then he teases the tip just past your lips- you go to wrap your mouth around him, only for him to pull back with a laugh. “Eager, are you?”

You nod, “uh huh.”

He doesn’t even tut at you for your lack of manners, after all, you’re still holding your mouth open for him, unwilling to close it if even for a few moments to say a ‘yes, sir.’

“I guess I can give it to you,” Wonwoo sighs. Although he’s trying to sound unbothered, you can tell from his leaky red tip that he’s just as turned on by this as you are. You can see through Wonwoo now, and you wonder how that’s going to impact your opinion of him.

This man who likes to seem hard and domineering, who likes to appear nonchalant- you wonder what kind of thoughts are swimming in that pretty head of is.

Wonwoo slips his cock into your mouth, and you immediately begin to suck it, twirling your tongue along the tip. He pushes in another inch, testing your abilities. His eyes are fixed on yours, and you stare up at him, wanting to please.

Mingyu fucks you harder, prompting you forward onto Wonwoo’s cock. You take more and more of him, doing your best to relax and focus on the pleasure Mingyu is giving you, rather than the uncomfortable feeling of a heavy dick on your tongue.

You enjoy giving oral, but you’ve always found it easier to have some other stimulus to anchor yourself- Mingyu’s cock splitting you open is just the right amount of distraction. When Wonwoo hits the back of your throat, you hardly choke, too enraptured by Mingyu behind you to carefully about your gag reflex.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Wonwoo tells you, having watched for your limits and reactions.

He begins to thrust now, matching Mingyu’s motions. It’s a push pull, and you kind of love being used like this, having two cock filling you up. They’re almost synchronized, and it turns you on that they’ve done this before, that they’re familiar with each other.

You couldn’t imagine a better pair to lose your threesome virginity to.

Wonwoo’s hand grabs your hair, and you watch as he throws his head bad, letting out a groan.

Fuck, he’s so sexy- they both are. Mingyu’s grip on your hips is even tighter, and you know what that means.

“I’m close,” your boyfriend announces.

“Well I just started,” Wonwoo retorts. “Hold it.”

You’re shocked that Mingyu doesn’t even fight back, his thrusts simply slow down a notch. Wonwoo, meanwhile, speeds up, and you do your best to hollow your cheeks around his cock, sucking on him like you’ve never sucked on anyone before.

“You’re good with your mouth, baby,” Wonwoo praises you.

“She’s so good,” Mingyu agrees, reaching a hand around your body so he can rub your clit.

You jolt at the contact, pussy clenching desperately around Mingyu’s cock.

“Fuck, Woo, we’re both close-” Mingyu groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder, his breath hot across your skin.  

“I guess I can make this quick,” Wonwoo grunts, hips shuddering.

Mingyu draws fluid, lazy circles on your clit, speckling your shoulders with kisses while he ruts slowly into your core. You suck on Wonwoo diligently, like it’s your job- after all, it is your job to make him cum in order for you and Mingyu to get there too.

The pressure in your abdomen is getting tighter and tighter, you’re not sure how much longer you can hold off, especially with the sounds Mingyu’s making-

“You two are so needy,” Wonwoo muses, letting out a small chuckle. “Fuck.” 

“You gotta let her cum,” Mingyu practically begs. “She’s squeezing me like a fucking vice, dude- this is torture.”

Wonwoo’s hips jolt at Mingyu’s words, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You feel your muscles constrict around both of them, and they both groan in response.

“You’re too good at this,” Wonwoo tells you. “When I cum, you both get to cum.”

It’s not an outward admittance that he’s close, but you can tell he is. His stomach muscles are clenching with effort as he uses your face, and the small groans of pleasure leaving him are higher in number now.

He fucks your face even faster, and Mingyu takes this as a cue to begin fucking you properly again. “Can you rub your clit, Angel?” he asks. “I need to grab your hips.”

You moan a sound of affirmation around Wonwoo, holding yourself up on one wobbly hand while the other slips between your legs.

“That’s it,” Mingyu groans, straightening behind you and taking hold of your hips with both hands. His pace matches Wonwoo’s now, and you can feel your orgasm so close-

You can almost taste it.

In fact, you can taste Wonwoo’s, a strangled gasp escaping him as he cums down your throat suddenly.

“Our turn, Angel,” Mingyu moans, pace quickening to a speed that would almost be painful if it wasn’t so pleasurable. Your fingers are rough on your own clit, and you do your best to swallow every drop of Wonwoo’s spend.

When he pulls out of your mouth, you breathe in a strangled gasp- only for moans of pleasure to escape you uncensored.

“Fuck, that’s it, Angel, almost there, almost there-” Mingyu groans. “Fuck, cum for me, cum for us- fuck, cum on my cock-”

His words throw you over the edge. You lean forward, resting your cheek against Wonwoo’s thigh while your orgasm overtakes you. Waves of pleasure surge through your body, making you shake- Mingyu’s hands hold your hips steady, keeping you where he wants you while he fucks you through your high, coating your insides with his thick cum.

You’re both moaning messes, completely given over to the ecstasy that you find in each other.

Your hand falls from between your legs, and soon, Mingyu’s motions stop. He keeps himself buried inside of you, trying to catch his breath.

“I’ll get some tissue,” Wonwoo says. He pulls away from you, and you collapse face first onto the bed, shuddering from the aftershocks of your high.

Mingyu’s hands begin to stoke your body, a silent assurance that you did well for them.

Wonwoo comes back with tissues, and Mingyu pulls out. You bring the kleenex to your dripping hole, careful not to get any cum onto Wonwoo’s bed-

Which is when you remember you squirted all over the comforter already.

You lay on your back, giggling to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” Wonwoo asks. Fingers go to pinch your nipple and you flinch, rolling away from him.

“I got squirt all over your bed,” you tell him.

“Naughty girl,” he says, but there’s an inkling of pride in his tone.

“It’s okay,” Mingyu says, reaching to pull you off the bed. “I’m going to go clean her up, you can throw your stuff in the laundry, and we can stay in my room tonight.”

You’re not sure why the idea of sleeping next to Wonwoo feels more intimate than the fact that he just came down your throat, but ten minutes later, when you’re snuggling between the two men, you find yourself almost unsure of how to act.

Mingyu’s already passed out, soft snores filling the room, and it’s Wonwoo who notices your unease as you shift under the sheets.

“Relax,” he tells you, his hands drawing you to his chest. “You’re safe with us.”

For some reason, his words actually calm you down, and after a few more deep breaths, you pass out on the chest of the man you’d ghosted over half a year ago.

Epilogue

It’s been two months since you and Mingyu invited Wonwoo into your bed. Two months of great sex, but it’s even deeper than that.

Mingyu is outwardly your boyfriend, and he loves showing his claim over you every chance he gets, but Wonwoo is still on the fence about where he fits in your relationship. 

You’re at the bar where Wonwoo works, it’s a place you’ve been becoming more of a regular at. Mingyu is out with Cheol, but he’ll be meeting you shortly. Right now, all there is to do is wait and try not to flirt with Wonwoo too hard while he mixes drinks. 

Wonwoo is chatting with another regular, an old guy who keeps looking over at you. Finally, the man asks, “How do you two know each other?”

You and Wonwoo exchange a look. You wait for him to define the relationship, after all, out of everyone in your odd little throuple, Wonwoo’s the one who likes to go slowest when it comes to relationship milestones.

After a moment of consideration, Wonwoo responds, “She’s a friend. Dating my roommate.”

“Ah, okay,” the man nods.

It hurts for Wonwoo to not claim you the way you wish he would, but at the same time, you understand his hesitancy. 

When you’d first started fucking Wonwoo, you’d thought he was a doberman to Mingyu’s golden retriever, but now, you think he’s more of a black cat. If you move too fast or too sudden, you’re afraid of scaring him off, and that’s the last thing you’d want to do.

With a sigh, you lift your drink to your lips. You suppose having one boyfriend who claims you with all of his heart makes up for having another who is still unsure about what to call you.

But it doesn’t mean things hurt any less. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I'm happy I was able to get this fic out in time for spring :) when I tell you this shit was five months in the making-

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🔮 preview.  Mingyu gives you all the love you’ve ever dreamed of from your romance novels. And Wonwoo gives you all the kinky sex you’ve fantasized about from the erotica you read. It’s the best of both worlds, and as Wonwoo sinks his cock into your wet pussy, you begin to suck on Mingyu.

cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, unprotected sex, sex in an alley, sex over a Harley motorcycle, eiffle tower/ spit roasting, quickie, blow job, deep throating, dirty talk, praise, cum/filling kink, inklings of humiliation, Wonwoo is a little rough,  etc…   I petnames. (hers) baby.  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.7k I teaser wc. 220

🌙 staring. Wonwoo & Mingyu x afab!reader

bonus

“I’m just gonna head outside with Cheol for a quick vape break,” Mingyu tells you, giving you a kiss on the cheek before he exits the bar with his buddy.

You turn to Wonwoo, who is busy mixing some elaborate drink for a group of cougars a few seats down. It’s a decent night here at his workplace, it’s summer now, so most evenings are good for him.

“Is this seat taken?” You turn to see the regular from a few months ago standing there, and you’re quick to offer him the chair, after all, you and Mingyu will be leaving soon anyways. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” the man asks.

You exchange a look with Wonwoo. “Yeah, I uh… I met you a few months ago,” you try to explain, pointing at your bartender. “I’m this guy’s friend.”

“Right, dating his roommate, now I remember,” the man nods.

Wonwoo has stopped what he’s doing, and he’s staring at you.

There’s a hint of danger in his eyes, and you’re not quite sure why. Then he sets down his drink, coming around the bar, and grabbing your arm. “Come outside,” he instructs. 

“What? Now?” you ask in shock, looking around at the bartop that's full of people who need drinks. “You’re working!”

“I don’t care. Come.”

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[daycourtofficial]

Bad Idea

Summary: feeling a bit neglected by your mate, you decide to try to make him jealous by dancing with another male. Very little plot, mostly just smut ngl.

Warnings: Azriel is a mean dom, so uh literally.. spanking, cockwarming, degradation, light choking.

Author’s note: fuck it, I want jealous Az, and dammit I’ll have jealous Az. Also I’m headcannoning that Az wears boxer briefs idk why I feel like he’d like the sleekness of them.

-

You knew it was a stupid idea. Stupid, stupid idea. You couldn’t help yourself, though. Your mate had been gone all week on a mission, his return culminating in everyone at Rita’s - dancing, drinking, having a good time.

Your mate kept talking to his brothers, hardly passing you a second glance when a male approached you at the bar. You looked to see if he’d noticed, and growing tired of his lack of attention, you decided to indulge the man at the bar. Truth be told, the man wasn’t really interested in you. You two struck up a conversation about your shoes, leading you to discussing your own mates.

Wren, he told you, was here because he loved dancing, but his mate did not. You could understand the sentiment, the same opinions being held by you and your mate. So you asked Wren to dance and made your way to the dance floor.

You danced for what felt like hours with Wren, having an incredible time. Lost in the music, through the haze of alcohol, it was easy to push aside your feelings of neglect. Every so often you’d look towards your mate, only to find him looking elsewhere. You and Wren left the dancefloor for some water, him telling you he should be on his way home. You bid each other farewell, and you realize your mate is nowhere to be found.

You stumbled home, forgoing your heels a block from Rita’s. The house is dark, not a single light on inside. You roll your eyes walking up the steps to your door, assuming Azriel was still speaking with Rhys and Cassian somewhere.

You slipped through your house, tossing your shoes on the floor as you walk up the stairs to your bedroom. You pushed open your bedroom door, closing it softly behind you. You pad through the room, reaching to unzip your top when a heavy weight presses into your back, pushing your front into the wall.

You start to scream, but a scarred hand wraps around your mouth. The force has your hands above your head with one hand, your mouth covered with the other.

“That’s no way to greet me, my love.”

Your mate’s voice eases the primal fear deep within you, but the tone of his voice causes a new fear to ripple through you.

“In fact,” he says, his whisper sending chills down your spine, “nothing you did tonight was an appropriate way to greet your mate after a week away.”

You muffle some sounds, trying to explain to him that he wasn’t even looking at you for most of the night, but he keeps his hand steady on your mouth, curling some fingers around your jaw to keep it locked in place.

His wings wrap around both of you, coccooning you from the world, as if his next words were meant only for the two of you.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, “my mate, my wife, my soul.”

He releases your hands, but the loss of contact is quickly replaced by his shadows holding your hands together.

“I’ll spend however long it takes to remind you of that fact, until you’re so fucked out you’re just left a drooling, twitching mess.”

He releases you from the wall, your weight sagging from him holding you up, but before you can fall, he holds you around the hips, dragging you to the bed. His shadows were in a frenzy around you, and he pushes you down onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress.

“I’m not the only one possessive of you,” he says, as shadows start swirling around your legs, your arms, your waist, your neck. You tried to lift yourself up, but they held you down. Azriel turned, walking to the bar cart you two kept in your room, pouring himself a glass of whiskey as his shadows held you down.

“They were so upset with you,” he says, the whiskey coming close to his lips. “They wanted me to make a big show in Rita’s about who you belong to, but I told them to wait, and I’d let them have their fun.”

Two shadows traveled up your thighs, and your eyes widen, remembering what’s underneath your skirt.

“Don’t worry,” he drawls, sitting in his leather chair to have an unobstructed view of you. A shadow swirls behind your back, unzipping your top and pulling it off of you. They do the same with your skirt, but they leave your overly optimistic crotchless panties and matching bra on. “I’ll make my way to you, eventually.”

Your mate tsks as he looks at you, his shadows holding you down so you can’t move. They start touching your entrance, their cool, airy touch leaving you needing more.

He stands a few feet away from you, his drink in his hand as he watches his shadows hold you in place to keep you from squirming. Your back arches as they snuck under your bra, pinching your nipples. He chuckles into his drink as a few shadows start circling your clit, your moans a clear indication of how good they feel against you.

His shadows found their way in your shared bed, usually assisting Azriel in touching you or holding you down. On rare occasions such as this, Azriel lets them do as they please, allowing them to lay as much claim to you as he does.

It was euphoric the way they caressed against your exposed skin, never staying still. They whirled and swirled up your legs, your arms, through your hair, around your waist, your breasts. They were enjoying this time with you.

Azriel walks over to the bed, lust coating his eyes and his scent as he asks, “had enough yet?”

You open your mouth to speak, but some shadows circle your neck, applying a light pressure so you can’t speak. Your futile attempts to respond cause him to smirk and in a flash the shadows have stopped roaming your body. Your skin warms at the loss of their cool touch, and you start to move your arms when scarred hands replace the shadows, keeping a harsh grip on your wrists.

He leans down, practically laying on top of you as he leans in and tells you, “undress me.”

Your thoughts still, that need for his skin coming back to you. You sit up immediately, reaching to unbutton his shirt, but he stops you.

“Undress me without touching my skin.”

You whine at your mate knowing exactly why you did everything that led you here. You sit up, hands shaking as you unbutton his shirt. He even turns around so you can undo the buttons underneath his wings. You can’t stop yourself from staring at them, their veins just calling out to you to stroke them, that one spot that you know drives him wild calling to you like a siren.

He chuckles at how long you’ve spent observing him, your eyes taking in every inch of his back. The toned muscles, the tattoos on his upper back, the spot where his back meets the wings.

You find yourself starting to reach out, your fingers inches from his wing when he clears his throat.

“I’m still wearing pants,” he says, in an unimpressed tone. You gasp, the trance on his wings broken as he turns around, allowing you access to his front.

Your eyes roam his torso, the tattoos on the front completing the shapes from the back. You watch his chest rise and fall as he breathes, as your eyes get caught on that line of hair that delves into his pants.

You reach a hand out to undo the laces of his pants, your hands shaking a bit as you do so. From need for him and from fear of punishment if you break another rule, you’re not sure which is influencing the shaking of your hands more.

You take a deep breath as your hands find the top of his pants, taking extra care to avoid his skin. You start pulling his pants down, receiving no help from your mate until they are around his ankles and he steps out of them.

You look at him, standing there in his black boxer briefs, practically drooling thinking about what lays underneath them. You’re gazing at his thighs, looking at the toned muscles he trains every day. He flexes a little at your gaze and you gasp at the movement.

The urge to run your hands up and down his thighs is taking over your senses, until his hand grabs your jaw, moving your gaze to look at his clothed hardened length.

His silent command gets you moving again, and you grab the waistband of his undershorts, pulling them down, taking care as it moves over his length.

His hard cock springs up, hitting his abdomen as it’s freed. You moan at the sight of it, but continue your quest to pull them all the way down. He steps out of them again, and moves to the side of you to lay down on the bed.

He lays there for a beat, his Adonis-like stature warming you from the inside. He grabs your waist, moving each of your legs to straddle him, but keeping you about a foot away from him.

He lines up his hard cock to your entrance, leaving you to hover a few inches away from him. You moan, needing him to let you slide onto him, needing him inside you.

“P-please,” you moan, practically drooling at the sight of the pre-cum spreading down him. He purrs, “My greedy little mate needs my cock, does she?”

You nod your head, but he tuts at you. “Use your words.”

You look at him, his teasing smirk telling you just how much he’s enjoying this. “Can I p-please sit on your cock, feel you inside of me?”

His smirk deepens, and he tells you to go ahead. You start sliding him into you, moaning at the way he’s stretching you. He’s still keeping you in place with his hands, and he helps you guide down onto him.

Once you feel him completely fill you up, you start to move, only to be held back. His hands keep you still, not allowing you to budge. You whine, needing to ride him, needing to fill him pumping in and out of you. He sees how desperately you need him and smiles.

“But darling, this is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

It’s too much, you need to move. His hands were pressed so hard into your hips, keeping you both in place and keeping himself as deep into you as possible. You can feel them digging into your skin, leaving perfect finger shaped bruises to be found tomorrow.

You could have been sitting there for minutes or days and you’d have no clue. Time crept on, your mate keeping you in the same spot, despite your whining and pleading.

His shadows kept busy, keeping a hold on your hands behind your back, but also by circling your nipples, pinching you. They continued swirling up your thighs, enjoying overstimulating you.

The stimulation becomes too much, with tears eventually leaking down your face, which the shadows gently caress away. Azriel finally speaks, his long silence another form of punishment. His words are usually full of praise for you, except for when you misbehave.

“Now, why am I doing this to you?” He asks, looking into your face.

“Because I was a bad girl.”

He spanks you, hard, the action startling a whimper out of you. His hand rests back on your hips, keeping you in place. “Tell me every bad thing you did tonight.”

And so you did, each action earning a swift slap on your ass.

“I left you to go to the bar by myself.”

Spank.

“I talked to another male.”

Spank.

“I danced with another male.”

Spank.

In between each confession, he held tightly to your ass, rubbing the pain in. At this rate, you’ll hardly be able to sit tomorrow without feeling the sting of this punishment.

After finally reaching the point of the night where you had greeted him with a shriek, the tears were streaming down your face, your ass covered in his hand prints.

“Now, who do you belong to?”

“You.” You tell him, tears clouding your vision. “I won’t disobey you again.”

He chuckles lowly, “oh I know you won’t.” He lifts you off of himself, a whine coming from you as he pulls you off his cock. “Now you’ve made quite a mess on me,” you look down, his thighs and cock covered in a sheen of your juices. “Clean it up.”

Hands still behind your back, you lean forward, licking his thighs, tasting yourself mixed with his sweat.

“Can you taste the desperation?”

You whine, as he holds your head down to his thighs. After successfully cleaning both of his thighs, he guides your head right in front of his cock, the tip mere inches from your mouth.

You’re staring at it, needing it inside you, watching pre-cum leak out of the tip, when he laughs at you.

“Drooling over my cock already?”

You blush, not realizing you had actually drooled over the appendage in front of you.

“Do you want a taste?” He asks, and you nod vigorously. “Stick out your tongue,” he tells you, and you immediately obey. He allows you to roam his cock with your tongue, tasting both of your juices mixed together.

“Put me in your mouth.”

You open your mouth, allowing him entry, and he immediately begins pushing in and out of you. He grabs your hair, holding you in place. You look up at him and he makes direct eye contact with you as he pushes himself as far into your mouth as he can go. He tells you, “I’m going to cum in your mouth, but you’re not allowed to swallow it. Got it?”

He pulls a little harder on your hair to tell you he’s serious. His shadows hold you in place as he fucks your mouth, until you feel him pick up the pace.

After a minute of his intense thrusting, he’s cumming in your mouth, his hot seed shooting into your throat.

“Now open.” He tells you, and when you open your mouth, he smirks at the semen in your mouth. Before you realize it, he spits in your mouth and tells you to close it.

“Now,” he tells you, his face right in front of yours, “no swallowing. I want you to be full from my cum in your mouth and your cunt, in hopes you can get it through your dumb little head that you belong to me.”

He’s pushed you onto your back and has slid back into you. An attempt at a moan comes out but is blocked by the semen in your mouth.

He chuckles, “you don’t want to know what will happen if you swallow before I tell you to.”

He starts pumping into you, filling you with his cock. He’s thrusting in and out of you, and you’re not sure you can take anymore when he moves a hand down and begins fingering you.

You close your eyes and tilt your head back in pleasure, unable to moan because of the cum in your mouth. You’re getting close, all of his attention and teasing being too much. You feel it building for both you and your mate. You know he’s close, his speed increasing drastically.

“You’re going to swallow right as I cum in you. Can you do that? Can you be a good girl for one minute?”

You nod your head yes, but the ecstasy you feel is making thoughts incredibly difficult. He wraps a hand around your throat, his thumb stroking the front of your neck.

“Swallow. Now.”

It all happens so fast. You swallow the mixture of spit and cum, the salty tang sliding down your throat. Azriel finishes inside of you, his cum filling you up triggering you to finish.

You lay there, him on top of you. Both of you are panting, unable to form thoughts or words to describe what just happened. Azriel rolls off of you, moving to your side.

He strokes your cheek and asks, “You okay?”

Your hand slowly rises to his field of vision, and you give a thumbs up. He laughs, caressing your face before getting up and getting you a rag. He comes back, helping you clean up while you’re half asleep.

“You’re hot when you’re jealous,” you tell him, falling asleep as he discards the washcloth and crawls into bed with you, wrapping you into his arms.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel smut #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

[luveline]

Hi babe! Not sure how you feel about writing ab parents so feel free to ignore, but had an idea for kbd au if Steve’s parents tried to contact him/get into their lives and he’s all like stay away from my kids

kisses before dinner —steve has a tense relationship with his parents. mom!reader, 1.5k

The girls haven't seen their grandparents for… a while. 

Steve's dad always has something to say about his life. How he's thrown everything away being a stay at home dad, or how idiotic it was to stay with you. The latter was enough for Steve to want to cut contact initially, but you convinced him not to do it on your behalf. 

Steve, pretty much everyone we knew thought I was baby trapping you, you'd said. 

Well, he'd said, attempting to lighten the mood, little do they know I baby trapped you. 

Damn. Wanna do it again?

So it was funny. His parents didn't like you but they hardly liked him, he didn't mind —he was so fucking angry because who the fuck did they think they were, how could they look at you and not love you, you, in what world was it possible?— and he put up with their passive aggressive Christmas cards and their sparing visits, but then his mom took it too far. 

He can remember it word for word. “Beth, honey,” his mom had said, her nose stuck in its permanent wrinkle, “why are you eating it like that? What do your friends at school think?” 

“Mom, don't,” Steve had butt in. Beth didn't even go to school at that point. 

“She's such a weird kid,” she said, shaking her head. 

Some could argue it was fond or that she didn't mean anything by it, Bethie is very unique sometimes, but Beth turned her face to her dad with crestfallen eyes, as heartbroken as Steve had ever seen her before, and asked, “I'm weird?” 

Steve doesn't remember the last time he spoke to his mom. A year ago at least. 

He does miss her. But he doesn't really know her, never has, and he'd choose Beth over her without a thought. It would take a hundredth of a millisecond to decide. 

That's why seeing her is a shock. He's going to see her, they live in the same town —you bumped into her a few weeks ago and had to give her the rundown. Everyone's okay. Yeah, we had another baby, she's doing great. 

Steve had blown up at her. The girls had never seen him that angry in their lives and they haven't seen it since, and the gap is impassable. 

Or so he thinks. 

“Steve!” He tenses up. “Steve, honey!” 

He can't decide what to do. He can't exactly run away; Bethie and Dove sit knee to knee in the shopping cart, Avery has her hand in his pocket, and Wren is strapped to his chest. Running would leave at least one girl behind, and where would he go? The frozen food aisle?

“Oh, it's grandma,” Avery says. “She looks… old.” 

“She is old,” he says, turning reluctantly on the spot to watch his mother rush past a stack of cans of carrots. “She's ancient.” 

“Steve, baby.” His mom stops in front of him, more flustered than he knew she could get back, struggling to maintain a sense of casualness. “How are you? Girls? It's been so long.” 

Steve doesn't have an inkling of an idea of what to say. He's not mad anymore, but he knows she'll never change, and he knows that your family is a hundred times happier without worrying what grandma and grandpa think of you. “We're perfect,” he says. 

“And this is baby Wren?” 

Steve grimaces. “Yeah, this is Wren.” 

She's only three months old but she has a good weight to her, and she's brilliantly healthy. She blinks at the woman in front of her without recognition, her dark lashes a thick hedging. She's a beautiful baby. 

“She looks like you again, Steve.” 

“Yeah, my girl's good at having babies, but she hasn't mastered the mixing process,” he jokes without thinking. Love for you falls off the tongue. 

His mother has the sense to make herself laugh. “Where is Y/N?” she asks. 

“Mom went back to get milk!” Avery says. 

“Yeah? And how are you, sweetie?” 

Steve clears his throat. He understands what she's trying to do, but he remembers Beth's crushed face and he can't abide this shit again. I let you let me believe I wasn't good enough, he'd said, he'd shouted, his voice hoarse with it as you pulled him back by the arm, but I will not let you do it to them. It's not happening, mom, I won't let it. 

“Steven…” 

“Mom, we have to get going.” 

“I said I was sorry,” she says. 

“But you weren't.”

“Steve–” She doesn't look a thing like her son beside the similar way they begin to cry, that frown, “Please, I know I'm not perfect, we don't have to pretend I've– I'll hold my tongue. I just want to see my grandkids. I've never even held her.” 

Steve covers the back of Wren's head with his hand, her baby hair soft as down. The girls are being remarkably quiet, beside Dove, who's whispering, “Who is that?” to Bethie in her clumsy toddler drawl. 

“That's gran'ma,” she whispers back. 

Steve's mom is, at the end of the day, their grandma. And she sucks and she doesn't deserve anymore chances, and the girls are better off without her for the majority, but… 

Steve screws his eyes shut. Don't make me regret this, he thinks. 

“I just want to speak to them,” she says. 

“Alright,” he says quietly, covering Wren's ear. “Alright, mom, fine, but this is it. This is your chance. If you ever upset or insult one of my kids again, we're done. We will never, ever speak again. You won't see them, and you won't see me. I'm serious.” 

“I'm sorry,” she says again. 

“Fine.” He pulls the strap off of Wren's harness and shushes her gently as she protests, lifting her out of his arms into his mom's. She doesn't have time to decide if she's ready. This is how it's going to be. “Her head.” 

“I know how to hold a baby,” she says. 

You come around the aisle slowly, a little wince to your step, some residual tightness in your hips as you recover postpartum, but the frown you wear slips into surprise. “Terri?” 

You save Steve and take the reins, suffering a conversation on your pregnancy, birth, and Wren's first weeks of life as Steve takes a breath. His heart races, adrenaline and a sticky, icky feeling in his chest as he watches his mom. He doesn't know if he's doing the right thing. His arms ache to steal Wren back. 

It ends in an invitation for dinner. Whenever you're free, whatever you want, Steve's mom offers. 

He's glad to see the back of her. 

You put the milk carton in the cart and touch his elbow. “You okay?” He hums. Your hand moves up to his face, cupping his cheek. “She makes you so mad, sweetheart. Do you need a moment?” 

“I think I'm pissed because…” He glances down at Wren, who's happier now she's in familiar hands. “I didn't realise she was a shitty mom. I knew we didn't get along, the same with my dad, but I didn't know…” He sighs. 

“It's okay,” you say, giving him a gentle squeeze before Dove demands you pick her up. You do it unthinkingly, and that's why he's mad. 

“I know what a good mother looks like,” he says. “I know how hard it is. And I know she didn't even try.” 

You're all sympathy, looking like you wanna wrap him up in a cuddle in the middle of the grocery store. “You deserved better. It makes me angry too.” 

“Are we going to dinner?” Beth asks. 

“What, with grandma?” Avery asks. 

“Not right now,” Steve says. 

“Good,” Dove says decidedly, wrapping her arms around your neck to hug you, squishing your cheeks together. “Cocoa?” 

“Cocoa? You want hot cocoa?” you ask, pleased. 

It breaks his heart thinking about himself as a kid. He knows there weren't any moments like this, no soft touches or sweet treats that weren't begged for. You don't even think about saying no. 

“And marshmallows,” you croon, rubbing the little space between her shoulders. “And we'll have to get a cinnamon roll too, for your sister. How does that sound, Beth?” 

Beth doesn't like hot cocoa but she loves cinnamon rolls, and she nods her head exuberantly. As quick as that, the girls forget their grandma's interruption, and Steve tries his best to put it out of his mind. Family is messy, and it's harder now he has to make decisions for all of them, but he has you. His support beam, his sweetheart, you put Dove on your hip and sew your arm loosely through his. Tonight he'll talk your ear off about things you know already. You'll listen without complaint, stroking his hair back from his forehead if you have a free hand. His family growing up wasn't worth calling a family half the time, just three people connected by blood and a shared house, but the family he has today takes the cake. There's no competition. 

#kisses before dinner universe #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #afab!reader #mom!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

[azsazz]

Winter Winds

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anon req: ik you probably won’t get to this in a while but i just read “in ribbons” and absolutely loved it!! got me so hot and bothered. anyway, thinking abt az, reader, and the kids got me thinking…what if the entire ic and their kids are all at wind haven for some trip or something. the oldest kids are pre teens, a bit older maybe. while at the camps, someone attacks the reader and she’s like seriously hurt. like seriously seriously hurt. az goes ballistic, and all the kids get so worried. but especially the older ones, maybe wren baz and zuzu, they get super angry and want to help az get revenge for their mother? 

Warnings: Injury, mentions of blood and gore. Traumatized children but they are otherwise unharmed.

Word Count: 4,921

Notes: You didn’t think I forgot about posting today, did you? Silly. I didn’t make them pre-teens, they’re I guess a bit younger than that but close, but I think I’ve got most of the idea in here, except the revenge part. Sorry about that and sorry in advance this one’s kinda sad.

_________________________________________

“Daddy?!”

His son’s frantic voice slices up his spine like an icy blade, plunging deep and cleaving him in half.

At the sound, Azriel’s body flashes hot with adrenaline and everything else slows to a crawling pace.

He spins on his heel instantly, ignoring the grumbling of the camp warlord who’d been reporting to him, now muttering under his breath about letting his savage brood run wild in the camps, that he doesn’t know how to raise them.

His family means more to him than anything, and that terrified shout from his son to grab his attention isn’t one he’s heard in years.

Something is very very wrong.

Azriel’s heart stammers in his chest like the frantic beat of wings in war when he locks eyes with his second oldest son, Baz.

He shouldn’t be out here alone, even if he has been in the training camps for nearly two years now and knows his way around. If any of the warriors had grabbed him and thought to teach the Azriel a lesson through his child…the spymaster shivers at the thought.

The more pressing concern, the one that makes his brows twitch into confusion and fuels his feet forward and nearly halts his heart in his chest, is that young Baz isn’t dressed for the cold. The Illyrian mountains in the peak of Winter could give even the most attuned warrior frostbite in mere minutes, and Baz isn’t even wearing a coat.

Worse yet, there’s tears streaming down his ruddy cheeks, cherry red from his journey.

He must’ve run the entire way to meet him in boots that are untied and tripping him in his haste to find his father. If someone’s stolen his jacket Azriel will be the last thing they see as he–

Azriel’s slipping out of his own coat, uncaring that the snaps rip open by the base of his wings. He needs to get his son bundled up, and quickly, before he comes down with something worse than the cold Azriel already knows is in his future. He scoops Baz into his arms, wrapping him carefully and hugging him close to his chest. His shadows swirl around both of them, already preparing to winnow them away.

“What’s wrong buddy?” he’s whispering, wiping the tears from his son's bruning face. Sometimes he and his older brother will get into arguments that have one of the boys running to Azriel in a fit full of tears but never something quite like this. Baz knows how to put his coat and tie up his boots and not to run across the camp alone–

The little boy in his arms releases a sob that nearly shatters the snowy peaks of the mountains surrounding them, “Mommy–”

He doesn’t need to continue. Azriel winnows them back to the house without a second thought, hugging Baz tightly to his chest, lips pressed to the crown of his sweaty black hair. He hopes that his son can’t feel him trembling, fisting his hands in his coat to stop the shaking. If something has happened to you he doesn’t know what he will do. How he will survive.

But he would’ve felt it, if there was something wrong, through the bond you share. He lets his shields slide down, reaching out for that golden thread, the one that feels like warm summer winds in the night sky, your hand caressing his soul.

There’s nothing.

Azriel gives a sharp tug but receives no response as he and his son arrive in a mass of black shadows on the front porch. The bond grows more taut with worry the more he tries, desperate pleas for you to respond that go unanswered as he shoves the door open with a heavy boot. 

The house is in complete chaos.

His shadows scatter immediately, searching and returning with whispers of bloody fingerprints on the counter top, streaking across the wall in his bedroom, on the doorknob to the bathroom, while he frantically searches the room for the rest of his children.

Horror coils his gut at the scent of his mate’s blood, thick in the air. It makes him choke, hot and heavy in the back of his throat.

Azriel sets Baz down, nearly tearing the door off of its hinges when he shuts it and turns the lock. He allows himself a single drawn out breath while his mind reels for a plan of action.

Wren looks more worried than his little brother, though Azriel knows that his eldest is trying his best to keep his emotions together for his siblings.

He had a screaming Jax in his arms, the younger boy clearly distraught about the heightened feelings of anxiety and concern smothering him. He reaches up for Azriel as Wren carries the struggling babe closer, trying his best to keep hold of his brother.

“Dad,” Wren breathes a sob of relief, but Az notes the twins in their playpen, Malos’ cries are loud enough for the silent wailing babe beside her, four sets of tiny hands curled around the brim of the pen with white knuckled fingers.

“Wren, I need you to watch your siblings for a little bit longer, okay?” Azriel’s voice is strained with tension as he calls out to Rhysand in his head, his golden eyes a hair wider as he searches the room for Zuzu. He rubs a reassuring thumb across Wren’s cheek and over Jax’s hair, trying to calm the little boy down. “Uncle Rhys and Uncle Cass will be here any minute, alright bub? They’re going to take us all to the River House.”

Wren’s lip quivers but he’s squaring his shoulders as he looks up at his father, “Mommy’s hurt.”

“I know,” it pains him to say it, but by now he knows, “I’m going to get her, will you and Baz help the little ones put on their shoes please?”

Wren nods and sets to work helping his father while Azriel rushes towards the bathroom where his shadows have located both Zuzu and you.

He finds Zuzu is sitting in front of the bathroom door, banging on it as she wails for you. Her throat must be raw from the screaming because she sounds horse, tears dripping down her face and snot bubbling from her nose.

Azriel hears Rhys and Cassian appear in the living room, and he lifts Zuzu up from under her arms as Cassian appears, his first thought to help his brother.

“Az–” Cassian sounds nervous for his brother. When he’d gotten the call a short time ago telling him that he and Rhys needed to pick up the children because something had happened to you his heart dropped, terrified for his best friend.

“Just take her, please,” Azriel pleads, letting the worry he feels coat his words. His throat is tight with emotion and he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to keep himself from going berserk because he can see the red painted handprint on the brass knob and the smell of your blood is overpowering.

“I’ve got her,” Cassian nods, and the look in his hazel eyes gives Azriel brings forth that last shred of hope as his brother turns away and he twists the knob.

His knees nearly give out at the sight of you, unconscious and lying in a pool of your own blood. You look paler under the luminescent faelights, the hand holding together the gaping wound in your side now slack in the puddle of crimson.

Your name is a cry of helplessness on his lips as he dives forward, knees cracking against the tiles as he slides closer, pressing his fingers to the pulse point in your neck and caressing your face with the other, a shaky hand brushing the hair back from your face.

His shadows have alerted him that you’re breathing, but barely so, and he releases a shaky breath because he wasn’t able to feel the barely there beat of your pulse beneath his fingers with how badly they’re desensitized from his own burns and the pounding of his own heart.

But Gods–the gash in your side is something a warrior would receive in battle, like you have taken a long sword to the side, your flesh tearing open, muscles and blood and–

No, he doesn’t want to think about whether he sees an organ or not. No, he needs to focus on stopping the bleeding. Azriel can’t help but think, his beautiful mate…who has done this to you?

Rhys and Cass both appear within seconds, having called for the best healers in Velaris to the River House, where his children now are, under the care of the High Lady and Inner Circle themselves.

“Az,” Rhysand murmurs, hardly louder than a simple breath as he takes in the state of the room. His spymaster, on his knees in a pool of your blood as he tries his best to stop the bleeding. The towel you had grabbed is already sopping wet with blood and there’s no signs of it slowing.

His wings are drooped low behind him, the slippery warmth of the floor against the thin velvety skin is a reminder of exactly how much blood you have lost.  Had he been any later, had you not sent Baz–

“Help me.”

It makes both brothers freeze, the utter helplessness, the devastation in Azriel’s voice, so small, so soft, unlike anything they’ve ever heard.

They jump into action.

“Az,” Cassian approaches him like he’s approaching a wild beast, unsure of how to approach this side of him, soft footing and hands raised in surrender. The spymaster lets his brother place a hand on his shoulder, turn him from his spot so that they’re looking at each other.

Cassian has never seen Azriel so panicked, not in the 500 years they’ve been best friends. Not through the wars, the nightmares, the births…not even through the mild complications you’d gone through when the twins were born. No, he was a solid wall, not an ounce of emotion had cracked through the barriers he had built, but this…

His chest heaves with every breath he takes, short and quick and filled with anxiety. Azriel’s hands are vibrating when Cassian takes them in his own. He doesn’t care that he’s kneeling in your blood, that Az’s hands are slippery with it, all he cares about are his friends.

“Az,” he tries again, and the usual honeyed gaze of the shadowsingers meets his own. He’d startled him. Can see the swirling emotions racing behind his eyes; the hatred, the scared, the utter fear, his mind unable to grasp onto one feeling long enough to put thought into it. “We’re going to take you to the River House, okay?”

He’d carry him if he had to, but Rhys can get the job done. There’s worry that Azriel might explode, break completely in his hands and let the beast within him finally take over. And if that happens, he’s glad the children are far away, because no one, not even Cassian nor Rhysand, will stop him from turning the Illyrian camps into nothing more than a tornado of black mist.

Azriel isn’t seeming to comprehend what he’s saying, head tilting down to look at where his hands rest in Cassian’s grip, thumb sliding through the cooling blood on his hands like it’s not the ichor of his mate, painting his hands the color of Cassian’s siphons.

Rhys comes around the both of them, crouching to place a hand on each of their shoulders. The wisps of darkness that carry them through the planes of the continent must strike something within Azriel because he’s tensing under his touch and wrenching away.

“Az,” Rhys commands softly, hands raised to show no sign of wanting to corral his brother’s anger, “The babes are right in there.”

The reaction from his statement is near instant, locking down his emotions little by little like the scales of his armor retracting into his leathers, until there is almost nothing left.

Azriel spins on his heel, already heading towards the shut door between him and the muffled cries of his children on the other side.

Cassian steps into his path, stopping him. 

He watches the spymaster assess him with a trained eye but Cassian’s already weighed his brother's reactions in his head, being a true warlord himself. There is no way he will let the children see their father like this, worked up with their mother’s blood all over them.

Rhys draws the attention of the shadowsinger again, both Illyrians goading him like a tiger waiting to strike, “(Y/N) is this way. She’s with Madja and her best healers.”

The sound of your name strikes him low, chest caving and reaching down the bond for you again, knowing there will be no response, a wall of icy metal stopping him from entering.

Azriel glances at the door again, but makes his way towards the room you’ve been hauled off to, worried for your wellbeing.

The saliva is thick in his mouth as he ascends the stairs, his brothers tight on his flanks. His hands are curled into tight fists and he can feel the cracking of your blood on his hands in a way that would normally be calming if it were anyone else's blood, but not yours.

Never yours.

He pushes into the room and doesn’t look at the wound or the few nursemaids that are crouching over you. He doesn’t look at the bowls of water stained crimson, the towels dripping or the clothes they’d cut you out of, he keeps his focus on your closed eyes.

He’s quick to find his place at your side, perching out of the way as he reaches for your hand but freezes when he catches sight of his own.

“Here,” Cassian’s soft voice has him looking up, the warlord holding a freshly damp rag for him to take, not even a touch of red on it.

His throat works against a swallow as Azriel takes it, scrubbing his hands like he’s the one who’d rubbed his skin down to the bone and left these scars.

He does the best that he can without spiraling. He’s had blood on his hands before, many times, but the fact that it’s your blood has him reeling, immediately stopping the work on cleaning his own hands in favor of helping you clean yours.

When he’s done he hands it back to Cassian who gives him a soft nod and a sad smile. Neither are the things he wants to see right now. All he wants to see is you opening your eyes and looking at him, smiling, laughing, unharmed.

There’s nothing else to do but wait, which he does so quietly, stroking his thumb across your forehead while his other keeps your limp hand firmly tucked in his grasp. 

He doesn’t look at the wound they’re stitching up, but he can’t help himself from reaching down the bond every few minutes, silently praying to the Mother that you will respond.

His brothers wait by the door. Rhys lets Cassian get cleaned up and check on the children while he watches Azriel from across the room, his own heart aching for his brother in this situation, to be near his own mate at a time like this.

But he stays put because that’s what any of them would do for each other, even when Cassian comes back, hands clean and clothes new, no traces of your blood on him.

They know that there will be no moving Azriel from your side to clean up, so they don’t even try. When Feyre dips her head into the room, catching a glance at you and your mate on the lone bed, a handful of healers working frantically around, they share a look.

It’s Rhys who approaches him this time, making sure his footsteps are heard by the shadowsinger as he nears.

He watches Azriel’s shoulders pull up taut, his spine stiffening and shadows curling his rounded ear that the High Lord is approaching.

His golden gaze is a harsh glare, a warning to stay away, and although Rhys understands the look, it still hurts.

“Az, maybe you should get cleaned up,” he suggests softly, keeping a healthy distance away from the bed. The healers have started sewing up your wound, having been able to stop the blood and stabilize you, and their work will be done soon.

The shadowsinger’s face doesn’t change as he looks back down at you, dismissing Rhys with that single action.

“The kids,” he tries, “They’re worried. They want to see you.” 

Azriel nearly startles at the mention of his children. They’d been half scared to death when he’d last seen them, frantic and worried about their mother just as much as he was. He can see them all clearly, Wren trying to be strong, Baz’s red face wet with tears, Zuzu and Jax and the twins all crying out for help, understanding that something was horribly wrong.

“The kids,” he murmurs, as if he’s not even there. Azriel pets your hair again, smoothing his fingers down your cheek, across your lips, finding their way to the juncture of your jaw and throat, where your pulse is.

Rhysand waits with a baited breath as Azriel counts, comes to whatever conclusion in his mind that he can, grasping for some sort of sign that you might be okay.

The beating of your heart is constant, evened out even though one of the nurses has already told him as much. He won’t leave you if he doesn’t think you’ll be okay.

But he knows you would want him to make sure the children are okay, so he places a kiss on your hand, ignoring how the warmth hasn’t quite returned to it completely, before settling it comfortably at your side and standing from the bed.

He follows his brothers from the room and as soon as the door snicks shut behind him and the wail of Zuzu is carried to him on the whisper of a shadow, he breaks.

He makes a break for his children, his flight sense kicking in but he’s hauled backwards into the arms of Cassian, holding him tightly across the chest as he struggles. 

If he were in his right mind he’d be able to figure a way out of his hold.

“Az, you have blood all over you,” Cassian grits, his breath puffing with the struggle of keeping Azriel in his hold. He’s writhing like an animal, trying to tear his way through whomever he needs to to get to his family. “You can’t go in there like this. You’ll scare them.”

That makes him stop struggling, worming his way out of Cassian’s touch.

“But Baz didn’t have a jacket on–”

“He’s already been looked at by a healer,” Rhys supplies, trying to calm the skittish shadowsinger.

“And Zuzu’s been screaming her head off,” he retorts just as easily, mind reeling at how his children must be feeling.

“She’s been given a soothing tea for her throat,” Cassian adds, fiercely protective of them as he is his own children.

“And Jax–”

“Jax is an empath,” Rhys agrees, ushering Azriel towards the other end of the hallway, “And it’s normal for him to react like that with all of the emotions running rampant in the room at the time. You need to calm yourself down if you are to hold him, your reactions will harm him more than Wren’s. For now he’s fine. They’re all okay, Azriel. Here and in one piece, waiting for you.”

Azriel’s wide eyes are glossy as he looks between his brothers, back and forth as if he’s searching for anything other than the truth there.

He won’t.

“They’re okay?” he asks again, not quite sure he believes it.

Both of his brothers nod, “They’re okay Az. Promise.”

.·:·.☽ ✦ ☾.·:·.

You feel like utter shit.

Like you’ve been carved down to the bone with a blade. There’s a pounding in your head and when you open your eyes the room spins, bright with light. Your head goes with it, the whispers of words striking like a bell tower to your brain.

“(Y/N)?”

That voice silences everything.

You squeeze his hand, blinking against the faelights until the three Azriel’s you see finally become one, perfect, mate.

“Az,” you breathe.

He bites his lip, hardly able to contain the relief he feels in this moment. He knows you’ve just opened your eyes but he’s squeezing his shut tight and resting his forehead gently against your own.

And the bond floods with warmth, his breath catching in his throat.

“I’m here,” your free hand finds his hair, smoothing through it the best that you can in your weakened state, “I’m here, Love.”

He nearly whimpers, would have if his mind hadn’t gone immediately into spymaster mode, seeing you awake.

He pulls away from you all too quickly, sitting straight in his spot beside you, the golden glow of his iris’ swimming with dark shadows.

“Who.” he asks, and it’s not a question. It’s the only word he can get out, voice dipped in steel and as sharp as the blade he’s been filing for the days you’ve been under rest.

“Some old relative,” you cough, throat dry, and you hiss at the pull in your stitches. Azriel is quick to help you drink some water down, soothing the roughness in your voice and the pounding in your head. “Claimed to be so, at least.”

“Fucking bastards,” he spits, the shadows in his eyes sweeping into hot, angry flames, “I’ll kill every single fucking one of them.”

“Az,” you sigh. You love your mate dearly and this is about as normal a reaction as you would expect from him, but you’re so achingly tired. “Are the kids okay?”

He shudders at the thought of something happening to your children and kisses across your knuckles, your hand in his shaking ones. 

“Yes, the babes are fine.”

You settle a bit more, knowing that truth. The fact that Azriel has referred to them as babes shows you just how terrified he truly is.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers, propping his chin where your hand is holding his.

“Tired,” you offer, because you’re afraid that a joke might push him over the edge. “Can I see my babies?”

Azriel looks like he might protest. You’ve been changed and brought to a different room once the painkillers and healing drinks the nurses had forced down your throat had begun to work, but he thinks of his rowdy children and your fresh injury, he worries for you.

But you’re pleading, “Please, Love. I need to see them.” And he gets it.

Because he finds himself needing to see them as well.

“Drink some more water, tell me what happened, and I’ll get Rhys to bring them in.”

You hold his gaze, nodding finally. 

Azriel helps you drink some more water, nearly a whole glass before you begin.

“I was on my way back from the mercantile,” you start, swallowing harshly as you wrack your brain for what had happened. “Just a quick trip to get some treats for the little ones,” you laugh dryly, tears welling up in your eyes. Azriel’s quick to thumb them away, caressing your cheek with his warm hand.

“I didn’t see him coming until it had already happened,” you admit shamefully. Your mate had taught you better than that and you had failed him.

Your mate sends nothing but warmth down the bond because while you may have been taken by surprise, he knows you didn’t go down without a fight.

“I didn’t understand how bad it was until after he was laying in the snow next to me and I looked at my torn coat and saw all the blood.”

You remember crying out as his blade slashed across your body and took you to your knees. You’d been able to act through the pain, kicking a foot out behind you and sweeping your attackers feet from under him. 

It was easier to pry the longsword from his hands when he was gasping for air and even easier to make sure he never took another breath again.

“I don’t remember getting home,” you exhale a shaky breath, “I was just holding my side and there was so much blood Az, so much blood.”

He shushes you softly, upset with himself that he’s asked you to share this story. If he had known your attacker was dead he wouldn’t have asked and before he can try and stop you you’re already continuing.

“I was afraid to go home,” you admit, and his hand clutches yours tighter, “I didn’t want the babes to see me like this.”

Your admission hangs over the both of you, loud in the otherwise silent room.

“I’m glad you did,” Azriel’s voice is thick with emotion, “If you hadn’t and I had lost you…”

“You didn’t,” you reassure, maybe for the both of you, “Let’s not think about that.”

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever be able to think about anything else but he nods, agreeing.

“I hid it the best I could, but you know Wren,” the thought of your oldest brings a smile to your face, “He’s so smart, that one. I told him to watch the babes for me while I went to clean up and he tried to talk to me, tried to ask me what was wrong but I just kept going, telling him that I was fine and would be out in a minute…” you trail off because you weren’t out in a minute. On the floor unconscious in a minute more like.

Azriel kisses your knuckles, lingering on your fourth finger before he answers, “He told Baz to come get me. I was talking to a commander and he came running up screaming and crying out for me. Scared me shitless I tell ya. Didn’t even have a coat on.”

Your eyes bulge and you try to sit up, distressed over your son out in the mountains without a coat, “Is he–'' your question is cut off by a hiss and Azriel’s on his feet guiding you back down onto the bed, gentle hands on your shoulders. 

“He’s alright, Love. They all are. Got them all checked on while they were helping you. Not even a sniffle,” Azriel soothes. He relaxes when your shoulders droop and you settle back into the pillows.

“Thank you,” you whisper, thumb brushing across his knuckles, “I love you.”

“I love you too, (Y/N). So fucking much,” he breathes, shuddering when you caress his cheek.

You tug on him weakly, puckering your lips for a kiss that he easily ducks down for, the tension melting away from his body now that you’re awake in his arms.

“Can I see them now?” you ask as soon as you pull away. Your mate huffs playfully, already calling out to Rhys in his mind.

The door slams open, Wren and Baz racing into the room with the Inner Circle hot on their heels. Rhys is holding Zuzu, Feyre’s hugging Jax close to his chest while Cassian and Nesta each hold a babe, their own boys trailing in behind them.

Azriel shoots to his feet, catching his two oldest sons around their waists before they can launch themselves at you.

“Mommy,” Wren cries from his father’s grasp and Baz bursts out into tears at the sight, reaching over Azriel’s shoulder for you.

“Az, let them go,” you scold lightly, but caress the bond, thankful for stopping them before another injury could happen.

“Boys, you need to be gentle with mommy, okay?” Az holds each of their arms, making sure that his order has been received by each son before slowly letting them go.

They’re both on your uninjured side, Baz tumbling into your arms. He climbs up onto the bed and you hold him close, letting him cry into the crook of your shoulder, reaching out for Wren with tears in your own eyes.

“Hi baby,” you whisper, voice thick.

“Mom,” he breaks, tears spilling as he climbs up next to Baz, letting you run your fingers through his hair.

You bite your lip, holding your boys as close as you can, before looking around the room at the rest of your children, your family. 

Each one is looking at you with smiles, some pained, some relieved, some teary, and you know that if something had gone wrong, that your children would be in the best of hands.

Your teary gaze slides back to your mate. He hadn’t looked away from you while you were taking everyone in, seeming to know exactly where your mind had just been. But he doesn’t want to think about that right now, all he wants is to hold you and his children as close as he can, forever and always.

Cassian hands Knox off to Azriel as he rounds the bed to your injured side, taking the spot next to you to block your injury as he gestures to his brothers and their mates to bring forward the rest of your children.

Let us know if you need any help, Rhys speaks to Azriel and the shadowsinger nods, looking at you with the babes all curled in close, hugging each other tight.

He knows they won’t leave you now, but he doesn’t care because everyone is here together, in one piece.

One big family.

#Azriel #azriel x reader #dad!azriel #daddy!azriel #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel/you #azsazz #azsazz next gen #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acotarxreader #acosf #acofas

[jessicas-pi]

So the Ahsoka show (and a dream I had last night) gave me an idea. Imagine: AU where in Chapter 11 of The Mandalorian, Bo-Katan tells Din to go to Ahsoka... but also says that if Ahsoka won't help, then he should try finding her apprentice, Sabine Wren, on Lothal.

So after Ahsoka refuses to train Grogu, Din goes to Lothal before he tries Tython, which is therefore where everything with the Darktroopers goes down, which means that (a) Sabine is able to give Hera a heads up that the Empire is Doing Something, and (b) Sabine ends up inadvertently roped into the events of the rest of Mando S2. The Grogu rescue mission sort of helps her feel better---at least to feel like she's doing something. Din, meanwhile, sees someone just like him, who needs to keep busy to keep her mind off her trauma, so he decides to call her up for a little "help" whenever he feasibly can claim he needs it, or for some Jedi Training™ with Grogu (who didn't go with Luke, due to no trip to Tython and no seeing stone), or whatever excuse he can make up, which ends with Sabine getting pulled into BoBF and Mando S3, too.

Highlights include:

Din & Sabine: *win the fight with Moff Gideon together* Sabine: *takes the Darksaber from him, just to disarm him* Sabine: WAIT ACTUALLY NOPE NEVER MIND *throws the Darksaber as far as she can & refuses to pick it up again*

Sabine: You want ME to teach your kid? Din: Yes. Sabine: You do realize that I can't use the Force? Din: Yes. Sabine: And that my master stopped training me because I wasn't good enough? Din: Yes. Sabine: And that I have absolutely nothing to teach him? Din: Yes. Sabine: ...nothing I say is going to deter you, is it? Din: No.

Sabine: I just... feel... lost. Boba: Well, you could always work for me on Tatooine. Fennec: Have you ever considered an assassin business partnership? Bo-Katan: It's gonna take me a loooooooong time for me to get over you winning the Darksaber again, but you are my best friend's daughter, so if you choose to, you may come with me. Greef Karga: The Nevarro school could use an art teacher, you know. The Armorer: You are always welcome to take the Creed and join our covert. Din: How do you feel about being adopted? [later] Ahsoka, to Hera: Should we be concerned about the number of questionable figures trying to take in Sabine? Hera, having Maul flashbacks: Trust me. It could be a lot worse.

Sabine: You need to go to the Living Waters? Yeah I know where that is, I can take you. Din: That's a relief. Otherwise I was going to go ask Bo-Katan about them. Sabine: Oh? Let's ask her anyway. I'm totally down to bother Bo-Katan. Any time, any day. Kalevala HERE WE COME-

Din: While I appreciate your modifications to IG-12, Sabine, I'm not so sure about the words you've added. Grogu, delightedly smacking his new button: KRIFF. KRIFF. KRIFF. KRIFF. KRIFF.

Din: You had me at 'battle droids.' Sabine, giggling: yOu HaD mE aT 'BaTtLe DrOiDs'

Sabine, watching Din make his 'your song is not yet written' speech: This is sooo much better than the holodramas. Axe Wolves, side-eyeing her: You don't get out much, do you? Sabine: Nope. Want some popcorn?

.....ANYWAY, my point is, Sabine gets dragged into All The Mandoverse Shenanigans. Which is pretty funny on its own, right? But it gets better.

Because it just so happens that Din is on Lothal with Grogu when Ahsoka shows up with the map. and he kinda just....gets pulled along for the ride. So then HE'S in the AHSOKA show, mostly just trying to make sure Sabine doesn't do anything crazy, following her when she does it anyway, and being confused about Everything. Which lends itself to additional hilarity--

Din: Nightsisters? I heard they were witches. Ahsoka: They are. Din, internally: Oh my manda, I finally KNEW something!

Din: The evil Jedi are chasing us! Sabine: They're not Jedi! Din: They're not? But they have laser swords like you! Ahsoka: There's still a difference! Din: What difference? Ahsoka: Jedi use the Light side! These are Dark side users! Din: There are different sides of your sorcery??

[Sabine and Ezra reunite] Din: I'm so glad you finally found your husband, Sabine. Sabine: Ezra: Din: The crabs: *start gossiping* Sabine: He's... he's not my... husband... Din, confused: But you've clearly been living the Mandalorian marriage vows? One when together, one when apart, sharing all... Sabine: Yeah, no, that's- that's just coincidence. Din: Hold on. You live in his house, and you keep all his things, and you refuse to leave Lothal for more than a week or two at a time because it makes you miss him too much- Sabine: *makes stop talking gesture* Din: -and you gaze lovingly at the enormous mural you've painted of him, and you left everything behind the second you knew you had a chance to save him, and as far as I can tell, you've been utterly devoted to him since the moment he disappeared ten years ago- Sabine: *stop talking gestures intensify* Ezra: Wait, Sabine, is this true? Din: -and you're telling me you two aren't married? Sabine:

#jessica's random thoughts #twice the mandos twice the chaos #sabezra #dinbo #anyway yeah that's My Nonsense For The Day

[calirph]

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐘 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All quotes are taken from different books people recommended to me that have similar energy to the bridgerton series and book franchise. Some of these are suggestive, per usual for historical romance diction. Change names, locations and pronouns however you see fit.

Romancing the Duke by Tessa Dare

For God’s sake. Don’t do that.

This is property. Don’t you understand how rare that is for a woman? Property always belongs to our fathers, brothers, husbands, sons. We never get to own anything.

Don’t tell me you’re one of those women with radical ideas.

Of course one kiss changes things. If it's done right, a kiss changes everything.

Listen to me. When a man wakes, he wakes wanting. He wakes hard and rude and aching with need.

Yes. In you. Hard, deep, fast, and completely. Now don’t wake me at this hour again unless you’ve found the perfect retort to that.

But now it’s gone all wrong. Because you’re here in this bed. But I’m here, too. And God help me, Izzy. I don’t know how to leave.

You're not going to ruin my first kiss. I won't let you.

You're pushing me away because you're afraid.

I'm not pushing you away. I believe I just offered to marry you.

There’s no castle big enough to keep a man like me from being aware, every moment, of a woman like you.

Do you understand what I’m saying to you?

When a Scot Ties the Knot by Tessa Dare

Madaline Eloise Gracechurch... I've come here to marry you.

What I'm saying isna romantic. It's raw, primal, and entirely crude.

There's more than one way to share pleasure.

I dinna care about the color of your frock, lass. I'm only going to take off you again.

Quickly, say something unfeeling. Mock my letters. Just do something, anything reprehensible.

Your men, my servants … they could be watching us.

I’m certain they’re watching us. That’s why we’re going to kiss.

..."What burden do you have?

The burden of duty. I led those men into battle.

There was a time when I enjoyed a great deal of female companionship.

Are you saying you were faithful to me?

I mean to make you mine, mo chridhe. Touch all of you. Taste all of you. Learn you from the inside out. Once I've held you like that, I'm not going to let go

Do you feel it? It's only the beginning, mo chridhe.

They’re merely a guard against anything accidental happening.

To Have and to Hoax by Martha Waters

...if you are going to insist on losing faith in someone the moment you see the slightest possibility that they have wronged you, you are going to have a very frustrating life.

I think I’m far too interested in too many things to excel at one single pursuit.

It seems that everything I have heard about you is true.

I am in need of some assistance and I think you are just the man to provide it.

If you’re determined to risk your wife’s reputation rather than have any sort of honest conversation with her…

I’ve never forgotten anything about you, Violet. About us.

But need I remind you that you are a marquess? At some point, you’ll have to produce an heir.

ou’re a reasonably handsome man, if one likes that sort of thing.

I want to be the man who deserves you, because you deserve everything.

I’d rather spend my days arguing with you than in calm conversation with anyone else in the world.

I only hope she can ever forgive me for taking such a damned long time to fully appreciate her.

If I should ever hear you refer to our son as your heir, I will ensure that you never see him.

I've nowhere to be this afternoon. I didn't see any reason to rush the proceedings.

The Raven Prince by Elizabeth Hoyt

I’ve heard some people say my temper is rather . . .

I wouldn’t want to intimidate you, Mrs. Wren.

A garden always has a point.

I am not a nice woman. But despite these facts, my word is gold.

I won’t marry you.

Why not? You were eager enough to fuck me.

I knew we had an attraction. Then you left and I realized you were taking what you felt for me and giving it to another woman. A woman you didn’t even know.

Why did men think that saying something louder made it true?

When a man betrays a woman in such a way, it breaks something in her that I’m not sure can ever be repaired.

I must have an heir. Do you understand? I must marry a woman who can bear children.

I'm not a whore, I'm a courtesan. There's a difference. Whores do it for the money, courtesans do it for the art.

It's never too late to start over and find yourself.

In order to love someone fully, you must first learn to love yourself.

To Catch an Heiress by Julia Quinn

Caroline, do you value your neck?

To call that writing, madam, is an insult to quills and ink across the world.

Not that I knew who you were until last month. But now that I've got you, I'm not letting you go.

Touch me and die.

It's just that I don't think friends tie friends to the bedpost.

You became my business when you took up residence in my house.

I need you. To-night. Right now. I need you.

I just don't care that he isn't offering a reward. In fact, I'm glad I'm much happier here than I was with any of my guardians.

We are here to discuss your foolhardy behavior.

You don’t want me to be your friend.

For the last time, I cannot be  your friend. I could never be your friend. Because I want you.

That’s not the point. You are my wife. I swore to protect you.

You can’t save the entire world.

Minx by Julia Quinn

You don't always have to kiss a lot of frogs to recognize a prince when you find one.

I don't know why people persist in believing women are inferior, when it is quite clear that men are the more feeble-minded of the two.

If I wanted Belle,I would have asked her to marry me.

Believe me, Henry, when I get angry, you'll know.

If this morning wasn't enjoyable, at least it was...shall we say...interesting.

You're a terrible rake, Dunford. Belle told me.

I was mistaken to think I could ever be enough of a woman to please you, to ever think that I could learn what it means to be anyone else but me.

I chose not to follow your advice. Ned is a very nice person. Handsome, personable—a perfect escort.

I very specifically told you to stay away from Ned Blydon.

Hush up, minx. You’re a funny one, but you’re certainly more likable than unlikable.

It takes a minx to tempt a rogue.

#meme #roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. ) #rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #◟ ⋆ memes › roleplay sources.

[boldlyvoid]

What To Expect | Part Eight: Homecoming

Summary: one by one, each baby comes home to their forever family

Warnings: lots of postpartum medical talk, post-C-Section care, NICU talk, surgery recovery, Postpartum depression mentioned, hard time dealing with separation while babies in NICU. lots of crying, happy ending

A/N: after over a year i'm finially finishing this fic!! hope you all like it

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist

It’s weird being sad on Christmas, but she was. 

Then she was sad on New Year's Eve, wishing she was kissing each baby's head as the clock struck 12… but visiting hours ended at 10 so the parents could try to get some sleep before the next visit at 8am. And she didn’t even sleep! She pumped and cried on and off until she passed out for a few hours, only to wake up and be allowed back in the hospital to do it all over again. And again. And again. 

It’s been 6 weeks now. 42 days. It felt never-ending.

Her mom was still visiting and was supposed to be sleeping in the guest room, but her mom could hear Y/N sniffle through the wall while she cried in the baby room. She thought she would let Spencer get some sleep for once and went to their kid's room to fold clothes and organize for the next few days. She brings a change of clothes for the bigger two, Wren is still too small to fit in anything, and she loves dressing them because it’s another thing she can do. That makes 4 things. She feeds them, she changes them and she dresses them, she holds them. Everything else was done by nurses and tubes and machines… 

Until today. In just a few hours, god willing, Axel would complete his 24 hours of bottle feeds and he’d be able to come home. Esmay is just a few days away from attempting the same challenge and then Wren… she was going to need at least another 3 weeks. She just started to gain weight, and she’s still not taking the bottle or the nipple when Y/N attempts it. 

It's breaking her heart to separate them, as much as she loves the idea of having Axel home… They slept better when they were close, they held hands when she held them at the same time, they stopped crying when the other was close… they had a bond she would never understand and now she had to separate them. It’s so sad to think about that she can’t stop crying as she searches the drawers for something cute for tomorrow. 

Her mom walked into the room quietly with a soft smile plastered on her face, she didn’t know what she was walking into, “Hey, sweet pea.” 

“Hey,” she whispers, looking up at her mom with tear-stained cheeks and a onesie held to her chest. “I’m figuring out what to bring Axel home in tomorrow.” 

“Is he coming home tomorrow?” 

She shrugs, “he’s so close to coming home. Every day he gets so close and then it's like he takes a random step back? He went on a food strike the other night, so we had to restart his bottle feeding test again… if I call at 7 and he’s completed his 24 hours then all he has left is the car seat test.” 

“Where he has to sit, safely for an hour without a problem?” Her mom remembers when Spencer explained it all the first time Axel failed his bottle test.

She nods, “I think he can do it this time. He’s over 6 pounds now, he’s stronger than ever, he’s coming home soon.” 

Her mom takes a seat beside her on the carpeted floor and looks at the outfit choices. “It’s still super cold out, but he’ll need to be safe in the car seat so no coat… this is cute?” It’s a green onesie with pink butterflies, and it made her smile. 

It included his sister's colours and symbolized how he was growing, he wasn’t just her wiggly worm anymore, he was a full-grown butterfly ready to fly home. She started crying again just thinking about it…

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I think you need to talk to your doctor,” her mom whispered. “Grieving the newborn stage and not getting time with your own babies was bound to be hard, but you’re suffering, honey. You need some help. You need to sleep, you’re not eating, you’re barely producing milk anymore… you’re suffering. I can’t tip-toe around it anymore, Spencer was supposed to talk to you about it but he’s scared. We’re all so scared, honey. You need some help.”

She lets her mom hold her like she did when she was a little girl, she cries so hard barely any noise comes out. Her mom just rubs her back and lets her get to where she needs to be in her grief. She needs this. “I-It just feels like it’ll never end… this has been the worst 6 weeks of my life.” 

“Did I ever tell you about your colic?” She whispers, petting her head now, soothing her by rocking gently back and forth on the carpet. “You cried for 4 months straight. I couldn’t soothe you, nothing helped, you were just sad… sadder than this, and I just listened and cried with you.”

“I would lose my mind,” she laughs and wipes her tears. “I’m sorry for that, mom.” 

She chuckles, “It was awful. I didn’t know how long it would last or if it would ever stop, and it also felt never-ending… but then one day you giggled. You were quiet for once and I cried with tears of joy and snorted on my own mucus and then you laughed at me. With the same lungs that cried for 4 months, you released this deep belly laugh for the first time ever and finally, the worst part of our life together was over.” 

“Just like that?” She sniffled, getting the point she was making. 

“Just like that. It’s crazy how fast time flies by, but the good thing is that very soon this sadness will be a memory, one you’ll look back on and say ‘I can’t believe I did that?’ Because it’ll feel like such a faraway memory.” 

“Thank you,” she hugs her mother tightly. “I’m so glad to have you here for this.” 

“I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else, honey.” 

—

He passes the car seat test, they load him up and they take him home. They spend 3 hours with him, she feeds him she changes him and then he has a nap just in time for her to head back to the hospital to watch the other two nap. They kept him on the same schedule as his sisters at the hospital and they’ll do the same when the girls come home. It’ll be easier this way.

He lets Y/N take mostly all of the hospital shifts, the only time he goes in is first thing in the morning. Y/N’s mom watches the baby, Y/N sleeps a little longer and Spencer gets his alone time with the girls. It’s lovely. He enjoys reading to the girls in their beds until they fall asleep and then he heads home to his son just in time for his next feed. 

He finds them in the bedroom when he gets home. She’s holding Axel and he can tell she felt bad for being just as happy as Spencer was. He could see the way it was eating away at her every time she held Axel, every time she looks at him her smile slowly turns to sadness when she realized the other two weren’t home. 

She doesn’t even notice he’s home until he’s sitting down on the bed beside her. 

“Can I have him?” Spencer asks, extending his arms, she nods and slowly hands over the swaddled-up little baby. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m okay,” she presses her lips together in a tight-lipped smile. “Um, are you still okay to stay home with him for the rest of the day while I’m at the hospital?” 

He nods, “your mom is just down the hall,” he reminds her with a smile. “I’m sure someone will want to come over and hold him at some point.” 

“Colin wants to come over soon,” she reminds him. “I think him and Penelope should come together cause then they’ll do all the cooking and we can just chill with the babies.” 

“You think Esmay’s coming home next?” 

She shrugs, “She’s still not eating from the bottle. Wren might even be home before her.” 

“She has her ultrasound on Friday, can you double-check that we can bring Axel with us so we can both go? I forgot to ask,” Spencer shakes his head, he can't believe he’s forgetting things now, but the sleep deprivation was catching up to him.

She nods, “of course, I think the nurses would like to see him again, anyway.” 

“It must be weird for them, getting to love and support so many little babies every day and then never really seeing them again once they’re cleared to go home?” He ponders. 

“I would have a hard time with that, it’s different when you get to hold the people you’re taking care of, unlike just talking to them on the phone like I do,” Y/N explains. “Like that case, we did together still haunts me, I hugged them all, and I will think about them till the day I stop existing.” 

“It’s really hard,” he agrees. “Saving someone and having them run into your arms just to never know how they end up is weird… some send us letters and updates over the years, but others act like it never happened and move on entirely.” 

“I kinda want to do that when they’re all home,” she admits, tears welling in her eyes, “I don’t want to talk about it or think about it… I’m just going to pretend I had all 3 of them here with me the whole time.” 

“I want you to talk to a therapist,” he whispers, cradling Axel a little closer. “You need someone to tell your struggles to, I get not wanting to relive it here, but you have to get it out, baby.” 

“I know,” she cries, covering her face as she starts to sob. “It’s so unfair, I hate feeling like this, Spence. I can’t do it anymore, I want them home, I want to just stay here all day and never leave again. I can’t keep going there and coming home alone every single day.” 

He knew she didn’t mean alone as in she came home to no one, she had him, her mom, his mom, and all their friends and now, they had 1 baby home. He was safe, healthy, beautiful and 100% theirs. She just meant leaving them there while she drove home alone, that was what hurt. 

“I know, love, it’s okay.” 

“What if you asked the nurses if you could do some more breastfeedings with Esmay? She might feed more if it’s from you and then if she does well, ask to stay the full 24 hours to help her pass the test,” Spencer planned rather quickly. “They want her to come home just as bad as you do.”

She nods, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her shirt, “that’s a good idea. You’d be okay with that?” 

He nods, “We have your milk in the fridge here, I know how to do this, we can have some father-son bonding time.” 

“You’re so cute with him,” she swoons and takes out her cellphone to take a few photos for memory's sake, “you’re the best dad.” 

“And you’re the best mom,” he reminds her after a few photos, looking into her eyes with all the truth in the world. “Our girls will be home soon, and when they’re all here it’ll be okay. They’re going to grow up knowing you love them more than anything in the world and you were willing to go through hell and back for them. Suffering like this for them, it’s what makes you the best mom. You’re a fucking warrior.” 

“Hey,” she reaches over and covers Axel’s ears. “Thank you, but he doesn’t need to hear that.” 

Spencer smiles, leaning in he presses his lips to hers for a quick kiss. “I love you.” 

“I love you, more.”

—

She left shortly after that, in their new minivan Spencer bought 3 days after she was out of the hospital. It was fully equipped to take his family on safe trips, two of the car seats were buckled into the back, ready for whenever their girls were able to come home too. The third was in the front hall, waiting for Axel's next trip outside. 

Spencer sat in bed with Axel resting on the nursing pillow in front of him, an empty bottle discarded beside them, along with some dirty burp cloths. His eyes slowly started to close, he was so relaxed and full, Spencer kept rubbing his little tummy and whispering sweet nothings to him, helping him drift off to sleep. 

“There you go buddy, you must be so full now… you can have the best nap with your full tummy and when you wake up we’ll snuggle and have some more food…” Spencer whispers, smiling away, he’s so happy. 

This is everything he ever wanted. 

His phone lights up on the bed beside him, displaying a message over the most beautiful wallpaper he’s ever had. He just admires the photo, the love of his life holding their three kids on her chest at the same time, he loved them all so much. 

Y/N: we’ve just finished bottle number six with Esmay, she’s officially taken 90% of her feeds today!! 3 with me!!!! The feeding tube comes out tonight at midnight, before her last 2 feeds and if she eats them all then she can come home… I did not see this coming today. Also: Axel can come with us to her appointment on Friday, and by the looks of things, Esmay can come too!! 

Spencer: that’s amazing baby!! I just finished a bottle with Axel, he’s having a nap right now, I can’t wait to see you later <3 give the girls a kiss for me? I love you.

Y/N: and Dr. Wade said that Wren is doing great, if her chest ultrasound goes well she might be able to start the process come home by Monday. This is wild Spence! 

He wipes a stray tear from his cheek after reading that one. He was so proud of his little family, this was such a big moment. All 3 of them would be home before they even reached her original due date. Just like he assumed. After almost 7 weeks in the NICU, they’d all be home soon. 

That was a lot to think about. 

Because once they were all home, he was asking their mom to marry him.

It’s earlier than he wanted to do it, originally… but he needed to do it. He needs her to know how much he loves her and how badly he wants to love her for the rest of his life. 

—

They don’t sleep the first night that Esmay is home, too. 

Two of their three newborn cots were occupied, both babies were sleeping soundly, all swaddled and content while their parents couldn’t stop staring at them. It was surreal. They were both over 5 pounds now, much, much bigger than when they were born but still tiny. Axel was 6 pounds when he left the hospital and since then he’s gone down a few ounces which is normal cause he’s on regular breast milk all day and only has a bottle mixed with formula twice a day for extra calories. 

He doesn’t look like either of them yet, neither does Esmay. They’re still too skinny and tiny but that’ll change. In a few months they’ll each have different features and little personalities…

“I can’t believe it,” she whispers. 

“I know,” he shakes his head, staring at their babies. “We’re going to be so tired tomorrow…” 

She laughs, “Yeah, but it’ll be fine. Maybe mom can drive us.” 

“Yeah,” he likes the sound of that plan. Wren has her ultrasound tomorrow. She’s the middle child and yet she’ll be the last one home. “they’re all going to be home soon.” 

She laughs again, tired as hell and so, so happy. “We're really not going to sleep then.” 

“It’ll get better,” he assures. “Once we get the schedule down and they switch from 3-hour intervals to 5, it’ll be better.” 

She leans over and rests her head on his shoulder and wraps her arm around his back, “it’ll be amazing to get to watch them all sleep here, together.” 

“To watch them do everything here, together,” he corrects. “First laughs, first words, first steps. To teach them how to ride bikes and maybe we’ll do swim lessons over at Dave’s cause we already know they like the pool—

“Not funny,” she shoves him. 

“They were supposed to be Aquarius’s so them loving water makes sense,” he teases again. 

“Unfortunately they’re Sagittarius’s like your boss,” she reminds him. “Maybe they’ll be stoic and handsome.” 

“Funny,” he shakes his head. “They might also be adventurous, risk-takers or incredibly emotionally intelligent.” 

“They’ll be one of each,” she says with a sigh. “Axel is the risk-taker, Esmay will be adventurous and Wren, given the trauma, she’ll probably end up the emotionally intelligent one.” 

“She’s also the oldest girl,” he reminds her. “She’ll be like us.” 

“We won’t put that kind of pressure on her,” Y/N says, looking at him with the most serious look on her face. “She’s going to be free and innocent and happy as long as humanly possible. They all will.” 

He nods, “And with me leaving the bureau—

“You’re leaving?” She can’t believe it. 

“For the time being…” 

“Why?” 

“You’ll want to go back to work at some point, I don’t want to get hurt and leave you with them or bring work home and lose one of you… so I’m going to stay home. I’m going to raise my babies and make sure they have a dad for their whole lives. I love them too much to leave again, even just for work,” he explains. 

She cups his face and brings him in for a kiss, a deep one at that. “I love you,” she whispers. “That’s all i’ve ever wanted for my kids.” 

“Me too,” he smiles back at her. “Me too.” 

—

Wrens ultrasound goes remarkably well. The nurses love seeing the other two babies once again. They all get a little check-up while they’re there and everyone is doing perfect. Wren especially. She’s getting so strong, she’s making so much progress but she doesn’t like taking the bottle yet. Just like the other two, having a feeding tube gets convenient and nursing is hard when they’re not used to that kind of movement yet. She also might have a tongue-tie.

The best part of the appointment, however, is putting Axel and Esmay in her incubator beside her and watching them all snuggle and coo. They’re content, happy to be back together the way they were for 32 short weeks. It’s the cutest thing to see. 

And Dr. Wade loves to see it too. “In a week, I think they’ll all be home.” 

“Really?” She lights right up. 

He nods, “your kids are quick learners. We just have to get her used to the bottle or breastfeeding. Her weights good, she’s breathing perfectly and her incision is all healed up. She’s doing great.” 

“They get that from their dad,” she compliments, tearing up a bit. Spencer steps in closer to her, hand on her shoulder. 

“And their resiliency from their mom,” he compliments right back. 

“You two are so cute,” the nurse in the corner compliments. “It’s hard to believe you’re not married.” 

“Soon,” Spencer assures. “You’re all welcome to come to the wedding.” 

—

Dr. Wade was right. It only takes Wren a week to pass her 24-hour bottle test and she’s such a champ with the car seat test. And by 8 weeks postpartum, all their babies are home. 

But as soon as they’re all home, Mom has to go to the doctor. 

But that’s okay cause Y/N’s 8-week post-op appointment is also the perfect time for Spencer to slip the kids into their special onesies for popping the big question. 

He waited until their nap time, he carefully put Axel into a shirt that say “you” Esmay has the word “marry” and Wren has “daddy?” Leaving him with the first word, “Will” and Y/N clocks it the moment she walks through the front door. 

“Why are you wearing a shirt that says ‘Will’ on it? Did you loose a bet to him or something?” 

“Nope, you’ll find out in a minute,” he smirks, letting her inside and closing the door behind her.

“Okay… you’re being so weird. Weirder than normal,” she teases. 

He takes her purse and helps her out of her shoes and coat, still treating her like she was recovering from the C-section when really, he just loved to take care of her. 

“Where are the kids?” 

“Asleep. Come with me,” he takes her hand, she’s shocked they’re asleep all at the same time and in the same room, but she follows him anyway. 

Up the stairs and into their bedroom, she hovers over their cribs and smiles and then she sees it. Each baby has something written on their onesies too. Spencer stands beside Axel’s crib, showing her that he’s the first word in the sentence. 

Her jaw drops and she stills, holding in the scream she wants to let out, she can’t believe it’s finally happening. She covers her mouth and turns to Spencer, who’s already down on one knee holding a small felt box in his hand. “So… What do you say?” 

“Yes!” She whispers when really she wants to scream. She tugs him up to his feet and wraps her arms around him. “Oh my god,” she starts to cry. “Yes, holy shit, yes, Spence!”  

He hugs her back, crying into her shoulder, “I love you so much.” 

“I love you,” she says as she pulls back to look down at the ring. “This is real?” 

“This is all real,” he assures. “We have 3 babies, a beautiful house, and now each other.” 

He takes the ring from the box and slips it onto her ring finger. “Everything we’ve ever wanted…” 

“and then some,” he smirks. “Forever.” 

She nods, so in love with him. “Forever.” 

@goldensonlyangel @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @blanchardsbk @measure-in-pain @dreams-in-blxck @doc-padfoot @nomajdetective @xoxospencerreid @mggswhorificlover @dinonuggets1967 @meganskane @kya-li 

@reidsbookclub @muffin-cup @one-sweet-gubler @shirleyrose @reidsacademia @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @spooky-goob @strawberryspence @thatsonezesty13 @lonewolf471 @a-mended-pact @ssa-uglywhore27 @hotchandspencearedilfs @venomsvl 

@fightingdragonswithwho @mortallythoughtfulgurl @bohemianrhapsody86 @allybatch @crypticcorvidinacottage @reidslibrarybook @lovejules888 @malindacath @simplyparker @gspenc @spenciesprincess @mrskatpotter @starrylang 

@1mechanicalalligator @lokiswh0reeee

@hotched @mrs-dr-reid @wander-lustbabe @scargarcia-magshotchner @reidselle @probablycryingg @stillsleepynat @ncsls0515 @stitchwrites 

#Spencer reid #Spencer reid smut #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid self insert #Spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

[illuminatedquill]

Ghost Stories #01

Feat. Sabine Wren & Hera Syndulla

Story Context: Sabine tells Hera about her decision to be trained as a Jedi and is met with a cold reception.

"You're going to do what?" asked Hera, her voice almost a shout at the end.

Sabine blinked, taken aback at the Twi'lek's response. It was certainly not the one she had been expecting. They were sitting in the Ghost's communal area; outside, the constant buzz of machinery and maintenance tools from the ship crew could be heard as the old freighter underwent some much-needed repairs.

Feeling uneasy, Sabine leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. "I thought you'd be supportive," she said.

Hera massaged at her temples, grimacing. "And why would you think I'd be supportive of you being a Jedi?"

Feeling defensive, Sabine countered, "You were supportive when Ezra did it. And Kanan, too, when he decided to take up that mantle again. What makes me so different?"

"That was then. This is now," Hera replied. "This is not a good idea, Sabine."

Sabine narrowed her eyes at Hera. "Ahsoka seems to think so. You know, the actual Jedi."

"Former Jedi," Hera corrected. "And believe it or not, Ahsoka thinking so doesn't make me more convinced."

"What, you have an issue with her, too? You guys always seemed friendly to me."

"That was before Malachor," Hera shot back. "Where has she been all this time during the war? She hasn't said anything to anyone. She's different now. Less . . . I don't know, just less of herself, it seems."

Sabine couldn't argue with that. Talking with her master sometimes felt like trying to conversate with a rock. Whatever happened at that Sith Temple seemed to have robbed Ahsoka of her spirit; she seemed listless on some days, adrift from herself and others.

Desperately casting around for a change of subject, Sabine asked, "Where's Jacen?"

"With his grandfather on Ryloth," said Hera. "Don't try to change the subject, Sabine."

"Fine," Sabine snapped. "I don't understand why you're so hostile about this. It's my decision. I'm an adult. What are you going to do when Jacen starts showing an interest, huh?"

"I don't know!" Hera shouted, throwing her hands up. "I'm not - I'm not strong enough, okay?"

Sabine cocked her head at her friend. "What do you mean, 'not strong enough'?"

Hera hung her head. Hands clenching into fists, she suddenly banged them on the table. Sabine jolted in her seat from the abrupt display of anger.

"Hera?" asked Sabine quietly. "What's going on?"

"Kanan. Ezra. Ahsoka. And now - you," Hera muttered. "Maybe someday, even Jacen. I'm so sick of losing people. I'm not strong enough to lose you, too."

"Losing - what? You're not going to lose me like you did with Kanan, Hera. I promise. Ahsoka came back, too, even if she's not the same as before! She's still fighting! And Ezra's still out there."

Hera turned her face back to Sabine. The younger woman felt her heart twist, seeing the cascade of tears on the Twi'lek's face.

"You're already gone, don't you get it? I've lost you. Once you decide to take that mantle - when you add 'Jedi' to your name, it's over," Hera whispered miserably. "That's the truth of this galaxy, Sabine. Jedi die."

Sabine shook her head. "Kanan died. I know that still hurts for you. But I'm still here and I promise Ahsoka isn't going anywhere either. Neither is Jacen. I'll make sure of it myself. And I will bring Ezra back," she added fiercely.

Hera smiled bitterly. "It's better if you leave him out there. Even better if he's dead. Because if Ezra isn't dead, then that means the Force isn't done with him yet. That means Ezra is destined for more suffering. For more sacrifice and heartbreak."

The Twi'lek leaned forward, her eyes glassy with bottomless pain. "Leave him be, Sabine. Don't go looking for him anymore. If you love him at all, you'll let him go."

Sabine was silent. Then, in an icy tone, she replied, "You don't mean that, Hera. I know you don't."

Hera looked away, blinking rapidly. Then, quietly, she said, "You're right. I'm sorry."

She didn't know what to say to comfort Hera. It's clear her friend had been harboring some deep conflict over the fate of her Jedi loved ones. Sabine belatedly realized that her deciding to be a Jedi was, to Hera, probably adding to that conflict.

To that buried pain.

Jacen was destined to follow in his father's footsteps someday. Maybe Hera saw Sabine as a safe option - that she would never take up the mantle and responsibility one day and could be relied upon to never break her heart the same way that Kanan and Ezra did.

Sabine wondered if she ever had nightmares about burying her one day. Or Jacen. Or Ahsoka. Outliving them all.

She wanted to hug Hera in that moment so badly. But something in the Twi'lek's demeanor told her that it wouldn't be welcome.

She stood up and made to depart. "I'll let you get some rest, Hera. We'll talk later."

Still not looking at her, Hera gave the barest of nods in acknowledgement. Sabine turned to go -

"Sabine."

She paused at the hallway leading to the docking bay.

"Follow your heart. I'll always believe in you, no matter what."

Without turning around, Sabine said, "Thanks, Hera."

"Don't thank me," came the sad reply. "You're going to be a Jedi now. Just like Kanan and Ezra. I don't get to keep you anymore."

Sabine was quiet. Listening.

"You belong to the Force now. I know you'll do well. You always have. It's in your nature to rise and meet whatever challenges come your way."

Sabine felt touched by Hera's words, yet there was a chill in her blood from the solemn way she uttered them. Finally, she worked up the nerve to turn around and face her directly.

Hera just gazed at her, but not seeing her at all - seeing through her, was the better term.

Like she wasn't there.

Like she was already a ghost.

"You have an important role to play now, Sabine. And, just like the other Jedi I loved, you'll play it . . . to the very end."

*Author's Note: Hello! So, this is just a seed of a story. Sometimes, when I'm brainstorming ideas for Sabezra fics, I'll have these conversations/scenes between characters pop up in my head, out of context. I don't know if I'll ever include these in future fics but I've decided to just start writing them down and posting them here just to keep track of. I always have ideas bouncing inside my head for stories regarding Sabine, Ezra, and the Ghost crew in general, so there will be more of these little fic-lets, I guess the term is? Except these aren't really full-fledged stories. Just short scenes.

Anyway, the genesis for this is pretty simple: I've always been interested if Hera feels conflicted about all the Jedi in her life, seeing as though they've all been met with terrible fates. I find it odd that Hera in the Ahsoka series seems all onboard for Jacen training to be a Jedi, considering what happened to his father and Ezra (and Ahsoka, to a degree). As a mother, she has to feel some trepidation about encouraging Jacen to be a Jedi - especially in that day and age. And now with Sabine - someone who is like a daughter to her - resolving to take up the mantle of a Jedi, I wanted to write out a scene where all those buried negative feelings bursts forth. I'm realizing that this is probably veering Hera into out-of-character territory, but it makes for a really good, dramatic, and angsty conflict between her and Sabine.

#sabezra #sabine wren #ezra bridger #hera syndulla #star wars rebels #ezrabine #star wars #ahsoka show #sabezra fanfiction #ghost stories 01

[wildemaven]

fic author self rec

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

tagged by the lovely @flightlessangelwings

-> i wanna remember | frankie morales x f!reader

this was the was the first fic I ever wrote and shared. took me close to a year to actually post it and i was so terrified when I finally did. while it’s not my favorite thing ever, i am still proud of the process of writing it. (there’s still plans to eventually rework it in some areas at some point)

-> sleepless nights | javier peña x f!reader

this was my first attempt at smut. i remember stressing so much over it because smut is intimidating to write, especially when so many do it so effortlessly. it was very much a ripping the bandage off thing. and while i still don’t feel very confident in writing smut, this definitely made it feel a little less scary in a way.

-> sweet creature | dieter bravo x f!reader

my baby!! the way this totally random idea turned into something way bigger than i expected. i’m super proud of this little world of dieter and poppy (and wren lol) i think about them often and forever grateful for them.

-> supply & demand | benny miller x f!reader

my first non-pedro character. it was super fun to explore benny. i love all his little quirks and feel like we didn’t get enough of them in the movie.

-> your plans & slow hands | frankie morales x f!reader

i don’t even know why but i do like this one. it was my first frankie smut too, so maybe that’s why lol i mean, have you seen his hands 🫠🫠 but i tried to push myself outside of my comfort zone and explore some new things with this one too.

NPTs @kteague @gnpwdrnwhiskey @trulybetty @undercoverpena @psychedelic-ink

#pedro pascal #garrett hedlund #frankie morales #javier peña #dieter bravo #wildemaven writes

[litcityblues]

I'm So Annoyed, But Not For The Reason You Think

Look, I'm just going to go ahead and say it: Ahsoka should have been the basis of the sequel trilogy. The whole damn arc from start to finish made for a vastly more compelling story than anything The Force Awakens, The Last Jedi, or The Rise of Skywalker managed to put in front of us.

Rogue One and Andor managed to take the original themes of Star Wars (rebellion against tyranny, the costs, etc.) and give them some actual depth about what it means to try and take down a tyrannical government. The Mandalorian, The Book of Boba Fett and now Ahsoka are exploring what I think is a vastly more interesting idea that Star Wars should have centered itself around for the sequel trilogy: now that you've defeated the evil empire, you've got to get into the messy and sometimes boring business of actual governing and how do you do that on a galactic scale? How do you deal with the Imperial Remnants? How do you deal with corruption? How do you, the New Republic, extend your authority and show that you're better than the Empire was?

There are so many story possibilities there and those shows mine that territory and do so effectively-- but what annoys me is that this is such an obvious arc to build into a trilogy of movies and they just... didn't. If the prequels were about the collapse of the old Republic into the Empire and the originals were about the Empire and its defeat the sequels should have been about the New Republic and securing the post-imperial future. That's the perfect arc of a trilogy of trilogies and saves us from such awful writing as, "Somehow, Palpatine has returned."

But, Ahsoka:

The series opens with Baylan Skoll (Ray Stevenson), a fallen Dark Jedi, and his apprentice, Shin Hati (Ivanna Sakhno), assaulting a New Republic cruiser to rescue Morgan Elsbeth (Diana Lee Inosanto) who had been previously captured by Ahsoka Tano (Rosario Dawson). Elsbeth informs Skoll that Ahsoka is searching for Grand Admiral Thrawn who has been missing for years- along with her former companion, Ezra Bridger who was dragged to an unknown location by a Purrgil.

(It should be noted at this point that I have not seen any episodes of Rebels, but know enough of the characters to piece together what's going on. It would probably provide more context if you have seen the show, but it's not at all necessary.)

Ahsoka and Huyang (David Tennant) find the Star Map they've been looking for, but it's locked so, on the advice of General Hera Syndulla (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), they head to Lothal to meet with Ahsoka's former Padawan, Sabine Wren (Natasha Liu Bordizzo), who agrees to help them and manages to unlock the map, only to have Hati show up, steal the map and stab her during a lightsaber duel.

Skoll and Hati take the map to the planet Seatos where Elsbeth reveals that Thrawn is trapped in another galaxy. When Ahsoka and company track down the droids that attacked her to Elsbeth's factories on Corellia- they and the New Republic get an unpleasant surprise, as a massive hyperdrive is being built, not for the New Republic but by Imperial Remnants for reasons unknown. They manage to get a tracker on the ship and it's revealed to be the critical parts for Elsbeth's ship, the Eye of Sion, ready to go and find Thrawn and return him to the proper galaxy.

Hera is convinced that allies of Thrawn and imperial remnants are seeking ways to bring him back, the Senators of the New Republic less so, and despite a sympathetic Mon Mothma (Genevieve O'Reilly), they refuse permission to send Republic forces to Seatos. So Ahsoka, Wren, and Huyang go themselves, find the ship, and are close to figuring out just what it's doing when they get shot down and are forced to land on the planet below, where Skoll, Hati, and company come and hunt them down.

What follows is quite literally one of the best lightsaber duels in the history of the franchise. I would put it right up there with 'Duel of the Fates' from The Phantom Menace or even the original confrontation between Obi-Wan and Darth Vader in A New Hope. Ahsoka and Baylan Skoll absolutely go at it and it's awesome. Ahsoka tries to tell Wren to destroy the map, but not wanting to lose her last chance and find Bridger, she hesitates and Ahsoka goes over the cliff, where she spends time In the World Between the Worlds where she meets none other than her old master, Anakin Skywalker. (Hayden Christensen)

Ahsoka makes some peace with her past- but not before Wren, Skoll and Elsbeth activate the Eye of Sion's hyperdrive and head out of the galaxy, just as Hera and a few New Republic forces arrive for a clandestine and unauthorized mission. Ahsoka and company figure out a way to follow Wren to the next galaxy, while it takes a timely intervention from Threepio (Anthony Daniels) to bail out Hera from being in real trouble with the New Republic authorities.

(Seriously: imagine how fucking badass that scene would have been if Leia herself had walked in. This is what I'm saying when I say this story arc should have been the basis for the sequels.)

In the next galaxy, Ahsoka and company find themselves at Peridea, home of the Night Witches of Dathomir and Admiral Thrawn (Lars Mikkelsen) and his fleet. Wren goes out to find Bridger (Eman Esfandi) and Ahsoka and the company eventually reunites with them and has one grand finale. They try and stop Thrawn and Elsbeth-- but the Night Witches of Dathomir reanimate the Night Troopers sent to confront them (zombie Stormtroopers!) and eventually the parties are split once more, with Bridger hitching a ride back to the galaxy with Thrawn before sneaking off his ship and reunited with Hera and Chopper while Ahsoka, Wren, and Huyang are stranded on Peridea.

Overall: I absolutely loved this show. Love the characters, love that you didn't need to have seen The Clone Wars or Rebels to enjoy the shit out of this show. Loved so much new stuff! No Tatooine in sight! Loved the Night Witches! Loved Thrawn and his falling-apart Star Destroyer! Loved that he's loading up what I'm guessing are Palpatine clones-- which retroactively provides a clear, story-driven explanation for "Somehow, Palpatine has returned."

This is the Star Wars I should have seen on the biggest screen possible in the theaters. If I'm annoyed, it's because I can see the missed opportunity throughout all eight episodes of this show. That doesn't mean this show isn't awesome though. It is. Give me more, please. My Grade: **** out of ****

#ahsoka #star wars #streaming show #streaming review

[eerna]

My theory of why tpt is such a letdown is because HB had others ideas but the editor probably didnt like it and she had to change the book in the last moment,in a interview shes asked if some caracters from others series will apear and she says yes but they dont,EVERYONE WAS PUSHING THE WHOLE JURDAN VILLAINS and they used for marketing.They were to many gramatical mistakes and the book was to short,also im sorry to give you the news but holly told in one interviews that she plans to write a jurdan focused story again so probably we dont get Nicasia saphic story:(I loved the whole idea of to feel love is to feel known but i whised more from oak and wren interaction(i admit oak pining after wren was so funny and cute)Im going to be honest if the undersea story is from jurdan pov im not going to read it i love them but they story was already told,they already have they caracter arcs,The undersea book should be in the pov of somoane who has tides with that place(i will prefer to be in the pov of nicasia love intrest fighting for her hand and to be a woman)WHAT ARE THEY GOING TO NARATE????

Bro that's why I am leaving place for speculation bc it really DID feel like it took a sudden left turn into "what the people want" in a way that wasn't originally intended. Maybe by that HB meant we get to see Roiben and Kaye in the Lake of Masks, but I doubt it... And the whole villain thing? Jude wasn't even that horrible to Wren, she was very judgemental but ultimately listened to Oak right up until the final 50 pages. I too thought that it was a very nice that the point of the story was that you can't be loved without being known, I just wish we got more time with them and some kind of a breakthrough moment where Wren understands it, too.

And bro... in my Goodreads review I literally said I was terrified that she'd make the Undersea story about Jurdan... I mean. If that happens I am still gonna read it bc it's Jurdan. But I will be very annoyed. Like fr, why would I care what JUDE AND CARDAN have to say about a contest where the winner gets to marry Nicasia!!!!!!!! C'mon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Be serious!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wanna know how Nicasia feels about the fact that people keep going out of their way to avoid marrying her and then the only ones interested are in it for the title bc she is that much of an unbearably annoying bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#eernask #eernanon #eernask talk tfota #the prisoner's throne spoilers

[ezziefae]

Jude and Cardan’s Political problem predictions for Prisoners Throne (coming Feb March 2024)

Holly Black has confirmed that Jude and Cardan will have a HUGE political problem at the end of Prisoners throne, and here are some ideas as to what the problem might be.

what if the political problem jude and cardan have at the end of prisoners throne is that there are no more heirs to elfhame?

there’s been theories and predictions that Oak WILL be king, but not king of elfhame. he’ll be king along side Wren in courts of teeth.

Another political problem could be the Undersea

In the stolen heir, we found out that Queen Orlagh had been growing weak, and Nicasia was even weaker. Throughout the book, both, Oak and Suren had gotten warnings to stay away from the undersea.

-

It is the merrow that takes my [Wren] hand. “Lady of the Land,” he says voice even raspier than mine, skin chilly. “The only gift I have to give you is knowledge. There is war coming in the waves. The Queen of the Undersea has grown weak, and her child weaker. When there comes blood in the water, the land would be well served to stay away. Cirien-Cròin is coming.”

- chapter 7, page 142

-

“you sent for me [Loana the mermaid] and i came, prince Oak, and lucky that i did, for the undersea has challengers on all sides as queen orlagh weakens, each of them looking for an edge. soon i may be your only friend beneath the waves.” - Loana

“The treaty with the land still stands,” Oak reminded her.

“For now, beautiful one.” - Loana

- Chapter 12, page 248

If Orlagh gets overthrown, Elfhame and the Undersea would have no treaty. Meaning more political problems and war.

-

It’s been fun seeing all these theories, i’m excited for holly to give us sneak peeks in the future. Holly has already confirmed that she has turned in the first draft of the prisoners throne to her editors.

More political problems for jude and cardan MEANS MORE JURDAN BOOKS 🫵🏼🫵🏼

also can we talk about the fact that Holly Black technically confirmed that Jude and Cardan will still be king and queen of Elfhame by the end of prisoners throne by saying that they would have a political problem by the end of the book. Get it? she’s sneaky.

#the stolen heir #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #oak greenbriar #holly black #the folk of the air #the prisoners throne #elfhame #jurdan #suren

[coffbeanie]

Hello! Back here with a new post, which is some OC content. I’ve only posted her on Insta, but this is Rayna Sol and she’s my Ninjago OC :))

Technically, this is her in TLNM, which to me is just like Ninjago (and what im rewriting of it) but high school AU. I’m still trying to figure out how like a lot of the lore would work in my rewrite of TLNM so this is most def a wip. So ig I’ll just talk a bit about her :))

-She’s the EM of Summer, which doesnt mean a lot in the beginning it just means she wears yellow.

-She’s def on the school’s wrestling team. I’m tryna figure out what other sports she would play during other seasons (if u guys have any ideas for sports lemme know)

-In like “Ninjago canon” ig she was very sucky as a teenager, using threats and bribes in order to win her wrestling matches. In this AU, that translates into her starting off as like a stereotypical mean girl, and she def has an attitude so like it can come off that way, but she basically spends her morning trying to save the city she’s tired give her a break let her rest :((

-She mainly hangs out w the rest of her team(my other OCs, Mae, Cedar, and Wren)-they know her identity and like of her double life and vice versa.

-Of the Secret Ninja Force, she’s only really friends with the Earth Ninja-they hang out a lot during missions, but obv they don’t know that they’re Cole and Rayna, so they don’t hang out during school. They’d prob be good friends they just run in different circles :/

-Still trying to figure out how to incorporate Morro into this AU but she’s besties w him too.

Uhm i think thats all-if u guys have any questions lemme know :))

#my art #ninjago movie #ninjago fanart #ninjago #the lego ninjago movie #tlnm #tlnm au #ninjago oc #ninjago original character

[radiant-reid]

Ok hear me out…

Cute little blurb where Spencer and his pregnant wife bicker about baby names? 🥹 Like she’s thinking kinda ordinary ones but he comes up with all the unique and special ones instead, idk if this makes sense lol

aw like that tiktok trend where it's the moms saying why the dads rejected certain names. also, btw, if you're name is one mentioned in this, i'm sorry, just going off some criticisms for the plot

"Okay, here's one." Spencer starts, flipping through the book of baby names he'd brought.

He insisted you wait to do this together and banned you from looking online- like a normal person would- until he found a book of names.

So there you are, sitting up against the headboard, under the covers as you sift through hundreds of names to find the perfect one for your perfect baby.

"Yeah?" You ask, fingers pausing on the trackpad of your laptop as you turn to look at him.

"Wren, it means small bird." He says, eagerly waiting for your reaction.

You giggle a little at him while you shake your head. "Wren Reid? Give the kid a chance."

"Oh." He realizes, looking like the news is hitting him all over again as his eyes gloss over with tears, happy tears. "They're going to be a Reid."

Seeing him tearful at the most seemingly insignificant moments only makes you so much surer that there's no one you'd rather do this with than him.

"Yeah, they are, so they need a name that's not so...rhyme-y." You direct him back to the book as you look back at your laptop. "Something noble like Spencer."

"Spencer came from the name for people who used to dispense goods to affluent households in Middle English." He recites to you, clearly having looked it up before.

You nod, continuing your search before hitting a name that you think could work. "Agnes."

He can't shake his head fast enough. "That's my great-grandmother's name, no way."

"Eleanor." You try.

"If it's in a Beatles song, it's too old." He rules.

"Damn, I guess that takes Rigby and Pepper off the table then, too." You joke, earning a fond eye roll and chuckle from him. "And you know Hotch would say the Beatles are timeless."

Spencer laughs at that. "Yeah, the guy who named his kid after an infamous serial killer." There's silent contemplation for a moment before Spencer's next idea comes. "River." He suggests.

"We're not celebrities, we can't name our kids' random nouns." You remind him.

"Kids? Plural?" He asks curiously.

Three had been the agreed number, but he knew how hard the past three months had been on you, and he wasn't going to hold you to any idyllic promise made before you were pregnant, or parents.

"Sure, as long as this one, or naming this one, isn't too unbearable." You answer with a shrug.

"You won't be unbearable." He says, although it's not to you, you realize when his hand touches your lower stomach. "Baby...Pascal." He tries out.

"The chameleon from Tangled?" You ask, a little shocked he was coming up with such unconventional names.

He frowns back at you, not getting the pop-culture reference. "Uh, maybe? It's cute, though."

"Yeah, for a chameleon." You agree. "How about Darcy? You love Jane Austen."

"Maybe." Finally, some sense of agreement. "Jane's nice too or Attie, like Atticus but for a girl."

You frown a little at him. "I really didn't think you'd be the one with the quirky suggestions."

"Neither." He agrees. "Are we going to struggle to come to a decision on this?"

There's a little bit of concern on his face which you're quick to wipe off. "No, we'll figure it out. Just nothing too old or too weird."

"Okay, I have the perfect one." He declares a few minutes later, closing the book and putting it on the side table as a sign of his devotion to the name. "Matilda."

You wait a minute to draw out suspense. "Yes, absolutely."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb

[galaxywhump]

Ghosts of the Past

[SV-240 masterlist]

Timeline: post-captivity, set after A Day of Revelations.

contents: recovery from slavery whump and forced relationship, hospital setting, nightmares, mentioned surgery, torture, branding, therapy and past weight loss, absent parent.

~~~

He must have fallen asleep.

He wakes up with tears in his eyes and the memory of Daniel clear in his mind, in the hospital room, not alone. Blinking, he expects to see steel-gray eyes and a familiar fond smile, feel a hand brushing his hair away from his forehead, hear a voice that tries and fails to be soothing. Instead he sees brown eyes and concern written all over the familiar face of the person leaning over him, their hand still resting on his shoulder after they shook him awake.

“Breathe, Wren. Breathe.”

He doesn’t remember this voice ever being soothing, but it works. Breathing deeply, he nods, his body in a state of panic even though he can hardly remember why. He reaches up to wipe his tears away, and his breath stutters again. There’s no way he can speak in this state.

“Are you okay?” Nathaniel asks, just as, if not more, nervous as his son.

No. Isn’t it obvious?

Wren nods again, and Nathaniel frowns.

“Sorry I had to wake you. You were…” He hesitates, looking for the right word, or maybe considering how much to tell him. “Thrashing.”

Another nod. Wren’s throat is squeezed tight, his heart fluttering in his chest, so he stays silent, focused on breathing.

He had a nightmare, and his father saw it.

It’s a strange realization, as if he had mentally placed a division between the person he was on SV-240 and the person he’s here now. He knew that returning to Earth wouldn’t erase his memories and trauma, but Daniel’s strong presence in his mind is the most striking reminder of that. The captive from SV-240 has been transported to Earth and sticks out like a sore thumb.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Must’ve had a nightmare.”

It’s Nathaniel’s turn to awkwardly nod. He parts his lips as if to say something, and his grip on Wren’s shoulder tenses, but in the end he lets go and looks away.

Despite knowing better than to expect any comfort, Wren’s disappointment is almost painful, and he barely stops himself from reaching out to grab his father’s hand, begging him to care.

“I brought you some things,” Nathaniel says, and when Wren follows his gaze, he notices a large bag by the wall - his bag, one he hasn’t used in years, but seeing something that belongs to him fills him with warmth, a feeling so strong he can’t believe it’s caused by something as mundane as an old object.

“Thanks.” Smiling requires a shocking amount of effort even when it’s for the most part genuine.

“Have you thought about where you want to stay?” Nathaniel pulls a chair closer to sit down. “I’ve found some places for sale or for rent, I can send you the offers.”

“Can I stay at your place?” Wren blurts out before he can stop himself. It’s a terrible idea, he knows it is, but the thought of having to choose is overwhelming. His recent nightmare also causes him to tense up and his mind to protest when he imagines being alone. Just him and a ghost, and nobody else.

“Of course.” Nathaniel’s response is immediate despite the look of surprise on his face. “It’s still your home too.”

This time there’s nothing forced about Wren’s smile.

“Thanks. I won’t stay long, just until… I get back on my feet.”

“You can stay as long as you like.”

That’s a relief when Wren has no idea how long it will take him to get back on his feet, if that’s even possible. What does that even mean? Functioning on his own, probably; the thought makes him anxious, so he drops it for now.

“Thank you. Really.”

Nathaniel nods, and they both fall silent, with too many unsaid words ringing in the air. There has always been a barrier between them that Wren couldn’t get through, and even now, when Nathaniel’s being more vulnerable than Wren’s ever seen him, the barrier is standing strong, intimidating and stifling. Worst of all, it prevents him from telling his father about anything, really. He should at least mention the tracker that’s going to be removed shortly, but even that fills him with deep shame. And then, of course, there’s the relationship Daniel had forced him into, the affection and intimacy that affected him more than anything else did, which is the last thing he wants to reveal to anyone, period.

Bearing it alone makes it hard to breathe, but he can’t imagine choosing the alternative.

---

The bag contains clothes, his clothes: familiar flannel shirts, plain t-shirts and relaxed pants, all ironed out and neatly folded. He reaches inside the bag and rests his fingertips on the clothes, and the feel of the fabric is familiar too. He clears his throat and blinks rapidly when tears threaten to gather in his eyes, and pulls out one of the shirts, unfolding it and holding it in the air, staring at it while his mind is racing.

It’s been years since he was allowed to choose what to wear. The clothes chosen by Daniel weren’t bad, they were comfortable and practical, but that was the problem - they couldn’t get in the way of Daniel’s sadistic ideas, and it wasn’t much of an issue if they ended up stained with blood. He was a plaything, a blank canvas, dressed accordingly, even when Daniel tried to convince him that they could be close to equals if he only gave in.

Now, he can finally make a choice, even one as seemingly inconsequential as this.

Once he’s dressed, he stands in front of the mirror and chokes on his breath.

The clothes still fit him well; they would’ve been noticeably more baggy if he’d stayed malnourished like he was during the first few weeks on SV-240, but since his starvation ended and Daniel allowed him to start working out again, he’s gone back to looking like himself, the person he used to be. It’s all the more jarring as he stares in the mirror at someone from over two years ago.

Someone he no longer is.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath when tears come back, this time impossible to stop. He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks up at the ceiling, away from the mirror. “I’ll get used to it,” he whispers, closing his eyes. “It’s just clothes, and they should make me feel better, for fuck’s sake.”

Wearing them does help, but seeing them does the exact opposite, so he ends up walking away from the mirror, and avoids looking into it if he can help it.

---

He spends a few more days in the hospital, and every single morning he wakes up from a nightmare. While it might be better than waking up to a nightmare, it’s exhausting in its own right, and leaves him a mess.

Reality doesn’t help as much as he hoped it would. He’s free, but everything feels like too much.

Someone visits him and introduces herself as a therapist; that information alone makes him so anxious he fails to catch her name. She talks to him, and he’s tense the whole time, mentally building walls around his mind as if the therapist could read it and learn about everything he went through. His input is limited to nodding along, waiting for the conversation to be over. He doubts therapy will help when his plan is to take the full scope of his trauma to the grave.

Later that day he’s scheduled for surgery. Something in him flares up in protest when he slowly slips into unconsciousness, a scared part of him that doesn’t want him to be defenseless, at someone else’s mercy, with no guarantee that they won’t hurt him or tie him up, but there’s nothing he can do at this point. When he wakes up, everything is alright, his shoulder is bandaged and the tracker is… gone. He can’t help but think that it would feel more significant if he wasn’t still branded - and he can see the sympathetic looks on the faces of the doctors who saw his back. He stays silent.

His father visits him again, they talk about nothing in particular. With the visible bandage on his shoulder Wren can’t hide the truth any longer. He had a chip. A tracker. It was nothing, and it’s gone now.

“That’s good.” Their conversation dies down.

Another night, another nightmare, which a nurse wakes him up from. His face burns with embarrassment, and he doesn’t know how to explain himself. Thankfully, they don’t pry.

He’s sitting in an armchair by the window, looking outside, when raised voices out in the corridor make him flinch. He looks in the direction of the door with a frown, and recognizes one of the voices as his father’s, but the other one he’s never heard before. It’s probably a hospital worker, but the conversation certainly sounds… heated, though he can’t make out enough words for it to make sense. The voices get calmer eventually, and he can hear footsteps getting closer. Then a moment of silence - and someone knocks on the door. His father and the hospital staff have used knocking as a mere formality, letting themselves in unless he tells them to wait, but this person doesn’t open the door.

“You can come in!” he says.

He doesn’t recognize the person that enters the room, but there’s something about the way she looks him up and down and her eyes widen that gives him the impression that she recognizes him.

“Hi,” he says, standing up.

“Hi,” she responds and clears her throat when her voice trembles. “Wren, right?”

“Yeah. Wren Rackham.” Who is she? He narrows his eyes when he considers all the options and lands on one he’s not excited about in the slightest - that the person in front of him is a journalist, here to ask him about everything he went through. That would explain the heated discussion, too, but he really hopes that’s not the case. “Do I know you?”

There’s a flash of emotion on her face, too brief for him to try and understand it before she speaks.

“No, I suppose not,” she lets out a soft sigh. “I’m… My name is Jonna Schulte.”

Should that tell him something? She looks at him expectantly, but no matter how hard he tries to place the name in his memory, he fails.

“I’m sorry, I don’t…” He shakes his head helplessly.

“So he never… okay.” Jonna clears her throat again. “How do I even say this… You… you’re my son, Wren.” Her words feel like a punch to the face, and Wren’s eyes go wide. He doesn’t get to say anything to that - and he has no idea what he could say anyway - as she continues, clenching her fists to hide the trembling of her hands. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, Wren. I never wanted to abandon you, but I was forced to, and I regret it every single day. I-I know I can’t make up for my absence, and I’m sorry I’m visiting you out of nowhere, but when I heard what happened to you I… I had to see you.”

Wren puts his hand against the wall to steady himself when his legs threaten to buckle under him. As he’s staring at Jonna’s face in disbelief, he can’t help but notice that there is some physical resemblance between them, which means… she might not be lying.

The thought turns his world upside down to the point where the memories plaguing him are overshadowed for a short moment.

His mother was never in the picture, and he was used to it. Nathaniel didn’t seem to like talking about her and avoided the topic until Wren gave up and dropped it. All he knew was that she left him when he was three, and since he couldn’t remember her at all, he just… never had a mother. As hard as it was sometimes, he had to accept it.

And now she’s here. A complete stranger, appearing in his life when he’s already overwhelmed and her presence feels like an explosion that only destabilizes him further, his mind racing, torn between confusion and… anger. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down, not wanting to say something he’ll regret later.

“I’m sorry,” Jonna repeats. “I shouldn’t have- You’re already going through a lot and I- I’ll leave you alone.” She turns to leave, but before taking a single step she pauses and hesitantly takes out a small notepad and a pen. “We can pretend this never happened, but if, um, you’d like to get in touch someday…” She writes something down and sets the note on an end table. “Here’s my number. You don’t have to do anything with it, I just… thought I’d leave it here.” When he doesn’t respond, she swallows and looks away. “Goodbye, and… I hope you make a good recovery.”

Does he want to pretend this never happened? Maybe. It would be easier not to have this bomb of a revelation on his mind, but he can’t just forget about it. He used to think his mother had decided to abandon him, but if she hadn’t, and she seems to really regret it… it changes everything.

“Wait,” he says, stopping her in her tracks.

“Yes?” She looks so tense, like she’s waiting for him to start screaming at her, and a tiny part of him almost wants to do that, to vent his frustrating confusion, but he nips that thought in the bud.

“I-I’ll think about it. It’s a lot right now, but I’m… not saying no. I just need some time.”

She nods and relaxes her shoulders.

“Of course. I’m not going to push, it’s your decision.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

The corners of Jonna’s lips rise in a slight smile of relief, and Wren can’t help but wonder if their smiles are similar too.

When the door closes behind her, Wren can finally breathe again. He sits down and works his fingers into his hair, and sits motionless in the quiet room - too quiet, oppressively so - for a long while, until reality becomes blurred enough that he’s not sure if Jonna Schulte had actually visited him. Maybe it was another dream, a weird one that’s still preferable to the nightmares tormenting him every time he falls asleep, but…

He lifts his head and his gaze lands on the note left on the end table near the door. It’s real without a doubt; he confirms it when he picks it up. He reads the number several times until he’s memorized it, and hides the note in his pocket.

For the rest of the day it’s all he can think about, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the note somehow burned through his pocket with how aware he is of it at all times.

At least, no matter how he feels about it, it’s a welcome distraction until Daniel inevitably visits him in his dreams again.

~~~

[next]

taglist: @faewhump @inky-whump @whole-and-apart-and-between @whatwasmyprevioususername @procrastinatingsab @funky-little-glitter-bomb @goneuntil @redstainedsocks @luminouswhump @lonesome--hunter @as-a-matter-of-whump @renkocchi @whump-only @muddy-swamp-bitch @girlwithacoolcat @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @sophierose002 @whump-headspace @to-whump-or-not-to-whump @kixngiggles @ohwhumpydays @whumpsical @wibbly-wobbly-whump @stab-the-son-of-a @his-unspoken-words @pumpkin-spice-whump @onlyhappywhenitpains @suspicious-whumping-egg @morning-star-whump @burtlederp @there-will-always-be-blood @springwhump

#recovery whump #hospital setting #slavery whump #forced relationship whump #nightmare whump #weight loss mention #wren rackham #nathaniel rackham #jonna schulte #sv-240 #my writing #i've had a big part of this written for ages #but i finally found the motivation to finish and edit it #so here you go #jonna finally appears again #as always pls let me know if the tag worked

[the-writers-corner-inc]

Show vs Tell

or "Tell me something, without telling me something"

You may have seen people talking about showing vs. telling and how this can strengthen your writing. Originally attributed to Russian playwright Anton Chekhov with the quote, "Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass", the idea can cause a lot of confusion amongst writers. After all, isn't all writing telling?

A typical response to avoid 'telling' is to start 'showing' everything. Overly long descriptions of simple acts, such as opening a door, end up clogging up the page and slow pacing, and ultimately don't actually show much at all.

I've heard it said that one should typically 'tell' actions and 'show' emotions, but again I think this skirts around the real question, which is:

What do you actually want to tell the audience?

Trying to tackle "show vs tell" without first knowing what it is you want to tell, can leave you floundering in a sea of undirected clenched fists and smooth, cool doorhandles.

This is where TikTok comes in. And that's only half a joke!

You might have seen that TikTok trend, "tell me without telling me", which I think is a brilliant summary of what show vs. tell actually means; perhaps understandably, as the phrase was originally associated with visual media.

For those who haven't seen one of these videos, they tend to follow the format of someone talking to the camera, asking a tongue-in-cheek question such as: "tell me your boyfriend won't cheat on you without telling me your boyfriend won't cheat on you". It then cuts to someone else's clip of said boyfriend, excitedly describing his model figure collection or some other such thing.

What they tell us, in a light-hearted way is "I don't think my boyfriend would cheat on me because he's an adorable nerd, too involved in his own hobbies to be out searching for other partners behind my back", but what they show us is him being an adorable nerd. We are told through the showing, and this is exactly the same in writing.

Do you want to tell your audience that two characters have been best friends for years? Maybe you would show them having in-jokes and being visibly relaxed in each other's presence.

Do you want to tell us that your MC has a crippling fear of the dark? Maybe you'd show them being hesitant to go into that dark room where the lightbulb has blown even though all their friends are fine.

Do you want to demonstrate that your setting is the home of someone very wealthy? Perhaps you would then describe that beautifully carved, oaken door, polished to a bright shine with a golden handle. Or perhaps you would show us how their staff members act in their presence.

Whether it’s a relationship, an emotion, a setting, a skill-set; everything we show tells the audience something more. It's like a lens focusing in on an important detail, so we only want to use it for things that are really important for the audience to know.

In summary, focus on figuring out the key things you want to tell your audience first, then play the game — how can you say those things, without ever saying them at all?

Thanks for reading, and I’d love if you want to re-blog this with some of your own examples! I’m going to do one of my own.

Wren

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