#even the cookies bring no fortune

[xxlea-nardoxx]

When even the cookies are against you.

Reference pic:

[sun-kissy]

oh my gosh! I am in love! pleaseee continue this

https://www.tumblr.com/saturnitystar/758532956071624704/chocolate-coated-hearts-rl?source=share

yesss i love barista!remus too much not to continue <3 !! i got so carried away and this was way longer than i expected it to be haha

chocolate-coated hearts | r.l. (part 2)

୨ৎ series masterlist

barista!remus x shy!reader

tw: fluff, use of y/n

The rain patters down mercilessly, the tip-tap sound from where it’s hitting your file awfully loud. You break into a slight jog, holding the black file above your head as if it would offer some sort of protection against the downpour.

You were on the way back from the university, and had conveniently ignored your roommate’s reminders to bring an umbrella earlier that morning, because oh, are you sure you checked the forecast for the right day? and it hasn’t rained in weeks – why the hell would it rain today? Unfortunately, it did rain today.

The dampness soaked through your shoes as you moved, splashing upwards to wet your pants. You let out an exasperated sigh and lift your head, eyes darting around to seek shelter until the rain subsided.

In your peripheral vision, you could see a library – but that was way too chilly, given the way you were trembling. There was a bar, but… that was where your weird neighbour, Carl, went every evening. And you were in absolutely no mood to entertain his rambling. You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as you trot a little further in an attempt to find a decent place. Wetness was seeping into your clothes, igniting a chill throughout your entire body.

As the seconds ticked by, you felt the frustration building up. Everything was just going so wrong today. Your lecturer had returned your analysis of Pride and Prejudice, and you had done so badly that it had to be redone. Plus, you were supposed to go out with Madison for lunch, but she had fallen horribly sick. And now, the torrential rain seemed to be mocking you – adding insult to injury.

The warm orange lighting of a sign came into view, and you squint your eyes to make out the words. Rubbing water off your face, you realise that the sign said Beanie’s. Well, it was a cafe – that was good enough. As you veered off the pathway to the right, you could smell freshly-baked cookies and coffee from the place. It better be warm inside, you thought. One more screw-up, and you genuinely believed you would burst.

You come to a stop outside the cafe, taking laboured gasps of air to catch your breath. You shake the water off your file and push the door open, stepping inside.

Fortunately, it was warm inside – you could feel the hot air blowing onto your skin immediately, drying your clothes from inside out. But to your misfortune, the heat seemed to be spreading to your face as well when you caught sight of the person behind the counter.

It had completely slipped your mind. But now it was all coming back to you, staring at his chiselled arms as he placed a plate of bagels on a tray. Your incident a few weeks ago, when you’d embarrassingly frozen on the spot and let the hot barista pick your donuts for you.

That had weighed on your mind for days, the way you had humiliated yourself in front of possibly the most angelic person on earth, and how said angel had treated you as though you were some kind of delicate flower.

You glance back out at the rain, drawing your lip in between your teeth as you contemplated your options. Either you went back out there, or you moved forward and ordered from Mr. Super Hot Barista. And you were definitely not going back into the rain.

Sucking in a deep breath, you brushed your soaked hair out of your face and wiped your hands on your sweatshirt. You shake off as much water as possible before walking towards the counter, feeling shivers run down your spine – from the cold or from shyness, you weren’t sure.

“Hi.” It comes out unnecessarily loudly, and you cringe. You actively try not to ogle at him, and your eyes fall on the tag on his shirt. Remus, it said. For fuck’s sake, even his name was pretty.

Mr. Super Hot Barista – Remus – looked up from the cookies he was boxing, his hazel eyes meeting yours. You could have sworn something like recognition flashed in his gaze. “Hey,” he smiled easily.

It was happening again, and you hated it. You felt your throat start to go dry as you held his gaze, and his smile slowly widened. You swallowed nervously, the quick drip, drip of water from your hair mirroring how fast your heart was beating. He very well knew the effect he was having on you, and was taking full advantage of it.

“So,” Remus started, “What would you like to order, sweetness?”

You thought you were going to pass out from the sheer amount of endearment in the nickname, eyes widening and cheeks turning pink. But you were a strong, independent young woman. And you were not going to let some random barista knock you off your feet.

“One small cappuccino, please,” you squeak, horrified at how small your voice was.

“Right,” he ducked his head to key it into the register, and you resist the urge to reach out and brush your fingers through his gorgeous curls. “And would you like any chocolate donuts with that?”

You swore your stomach flipped upside down at the comment – he remembered your little situation. Your hands come up to cover your reddening cheeks as you involuntarily let out an embarrassed groan.

The sound of his soft chuckle only exacerbates the sensation of your heart bobbing up and down in your chest. “Sorry, sorry – just messing with you.”

You let out a strangled sort of noise, still unwilling to look up and let him see just how flushed you probably were. When you press your face further into your palms, his voice softens. “Hey, I’m not trying to put you on the spot, I swear. I’m sorry.”

The slight tinge of guilt in his voice makes you look up immediately as you drop your hands to your sides. You see him standing in front of the coffee machine, preparing your cappuccino. “No, no. You’re not putting me on the spot, I’m just –” you sputter out, letting out a nervous chortle.

“God, you’re really embarrassed, aren’t you?” he breathes out in quiet laughter. “Calm down, pretty girl. I promise I won’t bite.” That majorly sucks, you thought. You envisioned how his lips would look biting into a cream puff, cursing yourself for even thinking of it a moment later.

“Okay,” you mumble, flipping your slightly less damp hair over your shoulder. And the next thing you utter, you don’t even think about it before saying it. “Don’t call me pretty girl.”

You immediately slap a hand to your mouth, eyes widening in shock at your own tongue. Literature students, and the yappers they are, Madison had once complained. Now you knew just how right she was.

Remus let out an amused snort, his lips curving upwards in a grin. “Okay, sorry, sweetness.”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Someone’s picky,” he muttered, the smile still on his face as he pressed a lid onto the cup of coffee before pushing it towards you. “What can I call you, then?”

“Y/n,” you mumble, praying that your delight at having been asked your name was not showing on your face.

“Y/n,” he lets it roll around on his tongue, a sweet smile playing on his lips. He scribbles something onto your cup. “That’s a nice name.”

“You too,” you say without thinking, glancing downwards to pull money out the pocket of your pants. You look up to find him eyeing you with his eyebrow arched. A giggle escapes you as you point at his nametag. “Remus, right?”

He looks down at his shirt and chuckles, realisation lighting up his face. “Yeah, my name’s Remus.”

Remus glances back up as you drop the money into his hand. And you’re very careful not to let your fingers brush against his palm this time.

His smile was soft and sunny, making it feel like it had never even rained in the first place. “Bye.”

“Bye,” you echo, your heart fluttering in your chest as you offer him a smile. You turn around to find a table, and just then realise that the cafe was as crowded as it was the last time you were here, if not more.

You purse your lips worriedly. It was still storming outside, and you really needed to get started on your failed analysis and your newly assigned one –

“Y/n!”

You swivel back around to find Remus grinning at you. “You can sit here,” he gestures at the bar stools in front of the platform, which were unoccupied. “I get lonely anyway. It’ll be nice to have some fun company.”

“Oh,” you murmur, an unignorable sense of relief settling over you. “Okay, thanks.” You make your way over, setting your coffee and tote bag down on the platform before hauling yourself up onto the stool.

As he picks up donuts and packs them into boxes, you pull out your book and a stack of foolscap. Remus glances up at the sound, his face immediately lighting up. “M.L. Rio?”

You nod. If We Were Villains was the next book you were assigned to work on.

“That was a good book,” he says casually as he begins to work again. “Why, are you annotating it or something?”

You try not to beam. He reads, your brain was screaming at you. He reads and he has excellent fucking taste. Could he possibly be more perfect?

“Not just annotating,” you reply, a pleased lilt to your voice. “Analysing, for a project. Oh – I forgot to mention, I’m majoring in literature.”

“Literature, huh?” he grins as he sets his tongs down, and he looks almost bemused. “Interesting.”

You pull out a pen and begin to write, the smile never fading from your face. He lets you work in silence, the only sound being the metallic clinking of tongs as he packs pastries into bags and boxes.

“Hot take,” he says suddenly, a couple minutes later. You look up, surprised. “I don’t believe James was some sort of tragic hero, as people make him out to be. I think he was the villain.”

“No.”

“Yes,” he snorts, and a laugh bubbles out of you. “That’s a ridiculous opinion.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “As a literature student, I think you need to be more open-minded.”

“The title is ‘If We Were Villains’, not ‘I Am The Villain’!” you retort indignantly, earning a loud bout of laughter from him. He shakes his head indulgently, continuing to stack boxes. “Great point.”

You can hear the deadpan in his voice, but decide to take it as a victory anyway. Grinning, you get back to your book as a comfortable silence settles over the both of you.

It was hard, but you were trying your hardest not to glance up at him every once in a while. The glowy orange light on the ceiling shone down on him, and you felt your curiosity growing towards the pale scars that decorated his face.

Whenever he caught you staring, you immediately evaded his gaze and took a sip of your coffee, or jotted something onto your paper. You thought you may have seen him trying not to smile a couple of times.

You blink as you glanced at your foolscap, which was full of random squiggly lines and words written in an attempt to make it seem like you were concentrating. But it was absolutely impossible to focus with Remus in front of you.

You furrow your eyebrows disappointedly. It really was important that you finished this up by tonight, and you were obviously not getting any work done here. One look outside told you that, unfortunately, the rain had stopped and the moon had come out.

Remus perked up when he heard the shuffling coming from you. He looked up to see you packing your things. “Leaving so soon?”

“Sorry,” you mutter as you pick up your cup of coffee, almost finished with it. “I’ve got more work to do at home.” The stool screeches as you stand up, slinging your tote bag over your shoulder. You rake your fingers through your hair – you had spent so long in the cafe, it was completely dry now.

He smiles, “Nah, you don’t need to apologise. It was fun talking to you.”

Your heart smiled at that. “Yeah, I had fun too.”

He stays silent for a moment, observing you. Your face starts to feel hot again. “Okay then, I’m gonna go.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” he calls out, causing you to turn back around.

You tilt your head questioningly. “There’s a poetry reading happening here, tomorrow, at 5pm. You like poetry?”

“Yeah,” you reply. “Yeah, I like poetry.”

He nods, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Come round if you’re free. I think you’ll like it.”

It felt like fireworks had begun to explode everywhere within you, from your head to toes and even in those little spaces between your fingers. “Okay,” you murmur. Your heart was tingling with excitement. “I’ll try to make it.”

“Great,” he grins, chucking his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the platform behind him. “Cool, then. See you.”

“See you,” you smile dazedly, pivoting and walking towards the exit with your coffee in hand. Your beam widened as you walked out, strolling back home as you sipped your coffee.

Remus had invited you to a poetry reading. A poetry reading.

Your cheeks ached from how hard you were grinning. You drink the last bit of your cappuccino, going to throw it in a bin on the street. That’s when you caught sight of something scrawled in black ink on the side of the cup.

There was a heart next to your name, and a number below it. Call me, pretty girl, it said in brackets.

You skipped all the way home.

[anantaru]

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ synopsis. reminiscing about the start of your relationship // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡ cw. mentions of guns, tw guns, fluff & established relationship, a/n. this is just a random idea that came to me, not proofread, gn! reader ♡

the unfolding of a relationship can truly be something magical.

with a warm contentment, you settle yourself against boothill's chest as you indulge the drifting thoughts in your mind, humming lightly into your chest as you felt a large palm cradle your hip.

you cannot lie to yourself, can you? but you're rather nostalgic about the early stages of your relationship with your boyfriend and how the two of you got to know each other.

at that, you realise it's a fun story, a great one even.

to boothill, you were the first person he's had a genuine interest in having a relationship with, and remembering how he thought he should tackle it— well, it was almost tragic, in a humorous way.

people who saw him as a dangerous individual weren't necessarily new to him. he'd be naive believing that he wouldn't be scary to look at.

the man understood that his risky occupation, aside from his outside demeanor could come across as unsafe and frightening to the outside spectator.

what boothill didn't realise, however, was that no matter how hard you try, you cannot hide yourself.

you see, boothill doesn't lie— although frankly, he did try to make himself seem a little less intense to you. especially on your first dates.

it all began with his job and how it doesn't fit with your usual cookie cutter profession. in order to appear a lot softer and less frightening to you, he wasn't the most honest about what he's been doing for a living, nor did he actually plan to reveal it to you right away.

reflecting back on it, his cheeks instantly burn of embarrassment— the sheer confidence he must've experienced when he believed, for a single second, that he could be able to claim and sell the lie of him having a bakery would actually fool you in the slightest bit.

quoting his exact type of wording; a renowned bakery owner with a strong liking towards lemon cake.

well, perhaps you bringing it up from time to time and teasing him with it was a consequence of his own actions now. yet, his sweet sense of humor made you fall in love with him the most.

it's adorable, he is, yet it ended up being slightly dangerous— with such words shrouded in your mind, you're thinking back at one specific moment where you accidentally found one of hid guns.

naturally, he's tried to downplay it immediately, hands turning sweaty as he couldn't keep eye contact with you while working himself through a story of claiming that, well, it's not a real one silly, see? but a fake one, okay? that he's been using for an upcoming, top secret, performance he's been planning for a while now.

for his bakery. you know.

little did he realize you accidentally pulled the trigger right when you were about to hand over the weapon and shot a bullet through the wall, right into the living room— you were fortunate enough that the knock back didn't hurt your shoulder too much, it stung a little, yes, but you were able to recover from the shock quickly.

yeah, it's safe to assume that this was a clear awakening to boothill, that he most likely needs to let you in on a couple of silly, little details about his life.

well now at least, after being in a loving relationship for a good couple of years already, you tilt your face and prop yourself up by your chin as your boyfriend shakes his head the moment you mention it to him again, "don't remind me of that," he begins to panic, a big and embarrassing smile plastering across his mouth as his heart drops to the pit of his stomach, "hey! we promised not to talk about this again,"

he's shrouded with a sudden feeling of helplessness, scratching the back of his neck before you slant yourself closer with an airy laugh brushing against his lips, "but it's our origin story," you smile and hoist your body up so you could be on his eye level.

you continue to affirm, knowing it makes your boyfriend weak in the knees, "and you're so sweet when you're embarrassed," before applying a sultry kiss on his cheek, breath holding, mind numbing, as boothill quirks up the sides of his mouth softly at your plush lips touching him.

truly, how beautiful it was that no matter what, he knows that you are one and if anything, a story such as yours only brought one closer.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[lavender-butterfly-cookie]

Forgotten friends

So I read a lot of ancient Y/N cookie stuff because why not and I decided to make my own. Bear in mind that this is a work of pure imagination and judgment will not be tolerated.

Long ago, You were baked along with 5 other cookies, an immense power created within you by the witches. You were all created to the purpose of protecting earthbread and providing guidance to those who resided within it. Knowledge, Volition, Change, Happiness, Solitude and Patience. All created for a great purpose.

Alas, great power always begets corruption. You watched as how your friends will crumbled onto their own strength one by one. You wished you had seen it sooner. Wish you had taken notice of their behavior changing and shifting into corruption. You wish you could've done something sooner. But you couldn't.

You felt... foolish, to put it kindly. All the signs had been there. More cases of injured cookies, more homes being destroyed out of nowhere, the constant plea from the cookies to be protected. But every time you asked who had hurt them, they never replied. You should've realized it sooner. What other cookies had powers strong enough to wipe an entire village out of existence and only leave ashes, flour, jam and crumbs as it's remains?

Regardless of not having seen it sooner, you knew something had to be done. You had to intervene, make them come back to their senses somehow. But every time you got the courage to even walk to their quarters, you never entered. You were scared of what your friends had become, a lot more than you would've liked to admit. Besides, there were five of them and one of you. Even if they haven't crumbled you already, they're still capable of doing it.

With little to no options left you were forced to seek out the help and guidance of the witches. Fortunately for you, they had already come up with a solution. The unfortunate part?

The solution was to seal them away.

You were unsure how to take in this information. Part of you wanted to plead and beg that they find another way. But the other part knew this was the only way to protect earthbread. With a heavy heart you agreed to lure your fallen friends into a trap. Did you like it? No, of course not. They were your friends. But did you have a choice? Also no. It was for the sake of earthbread.

"Are we there yet?" Shadow milk cookie asked, though it came out as more of a whine. You were leading them to the agreed spot where they'd be sealed, having promised them that you wanted to show them something.

"Patience, Milk. We'll be there soon." You said, followed by a soft chuckle. Though you knew that was only to hide your dread. Here you were, leading your friends into a trap, and all you could do was try to divert any suspicion by acting like everything was ok when in reality it wasn't. "We've been walking FOREVER! How far must we go to see this thing?" Burning Spice cookie complained. You had to fight hard to suppress that deep sigh gathering in your lungs. If this experience wasn't already dreadful enough, they had been complaining time and time again how long it was taking and you gradually grew annoyed of them. "Look, not my fault you don't have any wings to just fly there. We all could've been there ages ago if SOMEONE wasn't a wingless pepper, don't attack me!" You retorted. Just as he opened his mouth to speak again you snapped something else.

"And don't even THINK about bringing up Silent Salt cookie. I know he doesn't have wings but at least he ain't complaining!" Though you're not sure if it's cuz he won't or if he can't. Either way, Burning spice cookie let out a grumble of annoyance before keeping quiet.

"Hey can we-" Eternal Sugar cookie let out a long yawn as she stretched out like a cat before snuggling back into her soft pink clouds. "Can we like, take a break or somethin'? We've been walking for ages..."

"Your feet haven't even touched the ground since we left!"

"Mmmh, too much work."

Another deep sigh you forced to not surface out brew up in your lungs again. You hadn't realized what pricks your friends had become. They used to be so nice. Now they're just... Annoying. Though you can't really say you were surprised, seeing as they corrupted in general.

"Applying pressure on Y/N cookie is futile. Our journey will on prove to be more insufferable and longer if we continue to be uncooperative." You heard Mystic flour cookies dull voice say.At least SOMEONE wasn't breathing down you neck. You also couldn't help but realize that the only thing that seemed to be different about her was the fact that her voice held no annoyance in it.

Heck, it practically held no emotion in general. Regardless you found her more tolerable in this moment then the other three. It kind of stung though, knowing she along with the others were following you so willingly to their own demise. But it had to be done.

Finally, you made it to the spot. You told them to stand in specific spots, which they complied with. As you got out of the way, you looked over at them all. You felt your smile falter and your heart began to ache. So you were really doing this, huh? You didn't want this. Not at all. But you had to do this. Once you felt the witches about to begin you let out a shaky sigh.

"Forgive me... I never wanted this..." you said softly, but it was loud enough for all of them to hear. Before they could react you watched five forks come down and imprison your friends, much to your displeasure and their shock. You turned away, unable to watch further. You tuned out their cries for your help. And without looking back, you walked away, your head hung low in shame and pain.

You hid yourself away and watched how the world around you changed. You now concealed your souljam as a pendant on your clothes and you concealed your identity. In fact, you changed it completely. You wondered for many days and night if your forgotten friends would ever forgive you.

Maybe... just maybe... with a lot of patience. Even if they did, nothing anyone said was gonna ever allow you to forgive yourself. Not even the light of patience would allow it.

[purelyfiction]

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NFL QB Jake 'Hangman' Seresin AU x Popstar F!Reader

Summary: NFL Quarterback Jacob Seresin is in hot water from a streak of bad decisions, just as you go through the worst public breakup of your life. With people slandering both of your reputations, your publicists hatch a plan to bring both of you back into favor and keep the heat off until spring - that is if you can keep up the facade.

Word Count: 5,334 words

Author Note: I know I have two other outstanding Top Gun fics and I swear I'm trying to get those going but I am writing what sparks joy and well.... this certainly does. || Also!! Reader's stage name is 'Celeste' with 'Este' as the nickname. So no one gets confuseddddd

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You'd never anticipated to start the biggest year of your life absolutely gutted, yet here you are. Your boyfriend – well, ex-boyfriend, severed what you had thought to be a loving, trusting and safe relationship, rather unexpectedly on New Year's Eve. Then he'd gone to the press to relay that you were a horrible person, a terrible girlfriend, too involved in your work to even bother paying attention to anyone else. The timing couldn't be worse, since you were about to start your first ever stadium tour in the spring. 

The result had been you hiding away in your little oasis that was your condo in California’s southern escape of San Diego. You’d stayed off the internet, binging TV shows that you’d been too busy to pay attention to and immersing yourself in anything you could, to erase the four year relationship you’d been splintered from. The garbage people probably wondered why there were a near dozen empty quarter pints of ice cream in your recycling bin, but that wasn’t for them to care about. At least you’d recycled them. 

Now, three weeks into the new year, with your favorite Chinese on the way, you sit on your couch going over tour visuals. Your lighting engineer is rambling on the line as you hear the gate buzzer go off. You’re quick to collect your dinner as one of the others on the line gasp and quickly mute their mic. “What?” You quip, walking to your expansive kitchen and dropping the large paper bag down. You’re half paying attention when the employee brushes you off, as your hand pulls container after container of food from the magical Mary Poppins-style bag. Getting to the bottom, you grasp for a pair of chopsticks, only to find several sets of them, along with a dozen fortune cookies. You take a moment to look over your four entrees and styrofoam container of sushi. The audacity of them to think you would be sharing any of this. 

Finally, you address the matter of your dramatic tech director. “What’s the deal over there Hollywood?” You chide, before your phone is ringing, leaving you to hang up the video call to answer the phone. It’s your publicist and you know better than to let her calls go unanswered.

“Check your inbox.” Her voice is frigid instead of it’s usually cheery demeanor.   

“Hello to you too?” Begrudgingly, you do as she commands, finding the email she sent to you. 

Jonah Carter agreed to sit down for an interview with UsWeekly, post-breakup to clear the air and to make sure no one else would fall for his ex-girlfriend's (Celeste) playful, girl-next-door-ish facade.

"At first, it felt like a dream come true," Carter, an up-and-coming actor within his own right, said almost sheepishly. "I thought she was talented and kind, but I should've known it was too good to be true."

But there's more to this pop-star than Jonah says meets the eye. In addition to the vanity and self-importance that seems to plague this generation's starlets, Este was a vindictive slob who routinely talked behind the back of even her closest friends. "It makes me wonder what she's saying about me, now, after everything I've heard her say about those who think are closest to her." The concern for others is written very clearly on the actor’s face as he speaks. When I question the songstress’ messages about authenticity, the man adjusts in his seat as he holds back a laugh. 

"She'd like you to believe she writes all her own music, but I'm not sure she could write a full sentence without the help of her team," Jonah chuckled nervously into his coffee. "Sorry, that was rude. I don't want to stoop to her level." Cowed brown eyes made me wonder what else he had endured behind closed doors. It struck a chord within me. 

“Why did you stay as long as you had if this was what you were facing?” I ask him. The expression of his kind features morphs into despair. 

“When we first met, Celeste was someone I admired. Her compassion, her drive and her dedication to the things she valued spoke so deeply to what I did, what I still do-” he fumbles as he attempts to source the proper words, “They just… weren’t her beliefs. They were her team’s.” Jonah lets out a pained sound, “I think when we got toward the end of it, I realized that she has this way of manipulating what she says, how she acts, to make herself look good. She puts on a show, on and off the stage and you pay for it one way or another. So, I knew what she was capable of. I knew she could be that person if she really wanted to and I wanted so badly to help her see that. I eventually learned that people see what they want to see.”

God, what a load of hot garbage this was. It was a particularly rare batch, clearly it had been baking in a dumpster in the scorching sun with the lid closed. All damp, with a horrendous mix of something rotting and old crusty seaweed. 

The tour was supposed to be announced on the first of the month and here your ex was selling stories (horribly narrated and mangled stories) to the press. You might as well have been kicking puppies at this point. 

“Isn’t he just swell? Nothing but peak wisdom from good ol’ Jonah.” Your eyes could’ve strained themselves with how far back they rolled. Probably the only time he’d ever made them do that too.

“I’ve already called a team together to brainstorm. I don't want you to respond. Stay offline, away from all of it and don't entertain any of the discourse. Not until I have something to work with.” 

“None of it is true we both know that-” You begin to laugh but she cuts you off.

“As much as I want to be on your side here, we are working to put out a fire. Your silence the last three weeks has put you at a massive disadvantage and frankly? The public eye doesn’t see you in the greatest space right now.” You know she’s right. She always is, and right now ‘Celeste’ was synonymous with ‘cynical, fake and fraudulent’. You wouldn’t be shocked if the uproar demanded you be canceled based off of this testimony. 

It wasn’t all but two days later that you were called in by your PR team. Into the office in New York for the first time since before Thanksgiving. It had been a busy end of the year and now that the new one was coming in so ferociously you weren’t looking toward any of the things you once had been. This was the first time back into the light and so you had made sure that the inevitable cameras had something to look at. You’d dressed yourself in your favorites, in an effort to boost your confidence as best as you could. Putting on a show, just like you had been when things had been on the rocks with Jonah. 

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Getting to the office, you’re nearly trampled with the amount of people that swarm you. It’s not normally this bad - hell it’s never this bad. It isn’t until you catch sight of a football jersey and an ESPN logo that your brow furrows. Odd. 

Stepping into the building, you’re pushing your sunglasses up onto your head, looking down at your ringing phone and trying to slide your coat off simultaneously. Instead, you crash right into what you think is a wall, but is instead a broad man, looking rather lost. 

“Easy there, Twinkle Toes.” You guffaw and look up at the blonde man before returning your eyes toward your feet. Of course, the bedazzled statement boots on your feet call attention to themselves before the rest of the outfit can balance itself out. 

“Alright, Prince Charming, you first.” You snicker before stepping out of his way and start to the elevator. Unfortunately for you, he’s apparently heading your way as well, needing access to the lift to the next floor. 

“Prince Charming, huh? I mean I’ve been called worse.” His shoulders roll backwards as the elevator dings to one of the other floors. You keep your head trained forward, suddenly remembering the rule you’d been given. Stay quiet, don’t engage. And here you were giving sass to a stranger and showing up in bedazzled booties. You were really digging this grave deeper than necessary. So, instead of giving him another sassy response, you keep your eyes locked to the neon numbers as the elevator passes each floor. “Oh so, now I’m getting a cold shoulder? Darn, I was really ready to ask you all about the boots on your feet, too.” You can’t help but let your eyes move back over to the broad male, just out of the corner of your eye. His face is completely locked on you, shamelessly at that. “They expensive? They got that waxy red paint on the bottoms of ‘em?” Silently, you turn one of your feet up to give him a glimpse at the blue bottom of the shoe. “Huh, blue. That’s fun. That more expensive than the LouButton or whatever they are?” Finally the elevator reaches your floor, hopefully shutting this chatterbox up for the time being. Yet the questions continue like an immature toddler as you rise up the floors - going to the same floor nonetheless. “Hey, you’re that Celeste chick aren’t ya?” 

“Yes.” You finally answer one of his questions, his face lighting up.

“Oh look at that, she cracks.” Another eye roll times well with the sound of the elevator reaching the desired floor. Instead of responding, you quickly find your way through the glass hallways and to the desired room. You are so glad to be in the presence of the familiar group, the stranger in the elevator having rattled your composure somewhat. Your manager comes in with a cup of coffee and a smile, which immediately puts one on yours. 

“You didn’t have to do that!” You cheer, reaching out for it as she sits beside you. 

“When you see what Rachel has come up with, you’re going to need it.” Oh. Reassuring. 

You see her point when Prince Charming steps into the board room, followed by a host of men in dress clothes and suits, all matching the blue soles of your boots. Charming sits directly across from you, a hand wiggling his fingers as he waves at you. Oh good. 

“Thank you everyone for coming. I know this is a very polarizing group, so before we get ahead of ourselves, I want to introduce Celeste, or Este as we all have come to call her over the years.” Awkwardly, you wave at the foreign men. They grunt and nod. You were already having doubts and not a word had been spoken on their end. “I also want to introduce Beau Simpson, public relations coordinator for the San Diego Sea Lions, Coach Natasha Trace, and Sea Lions owner, Tom Kazansky.”

Sea Lions? As in the NFL team that had been built not even three years ago but had made it to all three playoffs in their short time? The one that Jonah had ridiculed immensely when it joined the league because ‘California doesn’t need another group of inflated egos in the league’? 

“I’m really feeling the love here, Rach.” Charming speaks up and the raven haired woman on the other side of the table sighs. 

“This is Jacob Seresin, starting quarterback for the Sea Lions.” The coach speaks, the blonde man brushing off her introduction. 

“No need for full names, Trace. Clearly we only do the stage name around here.” That was a clear jab to you if you’d ever heard it. “Hangman’s what they call me.” His hand juts across the glass, toward you. Your hands stay tucked under your biceps. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” It’s passive, turning to your team leader. “Rachel. I’m not seeing a connection here.” 

“Jacob is in the same pot of hot water you’re in.” Your attention moves to the similarly broad man who stands up, towering over Rachel. “We feel as though we can spin this to both of your advantages. Jake needs to stop sleeping around–”

“Easy now, Simpson.” The eldest in the room stands up and he gives you a kind smile. It’s not a farce though. You’re not entirely sure what makes it so genuine, but you smile in return of seeing him stand, despite it taking a slight bit of effort to do so. “What he means is, Jake’s professional status has changed due to the words of someone else and we’re determined to alter that. Rachel identified this and made quite the proposal.” The young woman seems all too cheery to cut off the old man. 

“You’re both having relationship woes–” The raven haired woman on Jacob’s team speaks under her breath. 

“Wouldn’t call them relationships.”

“And by putting you two together, we feel as though we can put you into a positive light. Let’s face it, putting two very successful, and attractive people who are already in the spotlight allows people to follow the developing love story. Este attends games, plays the WAG card, has an opportunity to be seen in the public eye more frequently and dispels the ill-spoken words that were published about her this week. Jake gets the proof that he isn’t just a love-em-and-leave-em type.” Your eyes spell out the doubt you’re feeling, looking at your team who is just as skeptical. “That’s just the beginning! Celeste is going on tour this year. Stadiums all across the country have her booked and ready for the summer. We have a captive audience already following these games to see Este and Jake together, and we get brand recognition. The conversations that will come as she gets to witness her betrothed play in a stadium she would be performing in that very summer.”

Now you see where the benefit actually is. Clearing your name while simultaneously promoting your tour in the process. Seeing stadiums you’ve booked and would hopefully sell out. 

“So how are you proposing this works? We’ll need a start, an end - a story on how we met–”

“Well,” Beau settles in his seat, twisting in the desk chair as he draws in the attention of the group, “we have the major details hypothesized. Rachel and I will work with one another to get the rest of it together. For now, you two met at a New Years Eve party.” 

Oh joy. Now you get to remember that bitter break-up that led you here, every time you speak about him. 

The man looks like he walked out of a surfing magazine, as it were. Now, the scowl on his features paints him as a devil. Long hair, muscular arms on display as he leans into the table in front of him. 

“If we don’t do this?” Jake leans back in his chair, a hand coming to fiddle with the lingering 5 o’clock shadow that he has omitted in his morning routine. 

“We don’t do this and there will be a lack of support for the Sea Lions. You’ll have painted the entire team as jackasses who can’t focus to save their life, especially if you continue to party and hook up with whomever your dick has the hots for that night-” Beau has gone off the handle and Tom speaks up again. 

“The point is, public favor will stay low and it will not bode well for the team. With a lack of support, we have empty seats. Empty seats translates to less viewers, then to less money and you know the song and dance. Not to mention morale for the upcoming playoffs. We need to keep the team happy, Hangman. It’s time to do something to benefit everyone.” 

Jake’s expression deepens, as though he was a young child just scolded by his father for his poor behavior. Green eyes shift and face you, his hand jutting out toward you. 

“I’m in.” His hand hovers. Waiting for you to join him in this grand scheme. Glancing at your own team, they look rather haunted. At this point, it was this or to hope that a long string of possible good stories and fan interactions can redeem you. 

You want this to pass. And if this would make it go faster… you grab Jake’s hand firmly.

“What’s there to lose?”

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You went back onto social media. Posted some photos you’d taken with friends back at the beginning of the month, from the worst party of your life. The photos at least were cute and you loved the dress you’d gotten to wear. Luckily these photos were all taken prior to midnight. So there were no red eyes. No ruined mascara and glitter across your cheeks. No freezing car rides home and empty beds. 

Mindlessly, you scroll through the comments. 

Flameth: can still make the whole place shimmer ✨

RunTao: phony photos

Romanacent: so glad to see you’re not letting him get to you!

H_ngm_n: you’re still gonna let me borrow those boots right

It’s the last one you’d been keeping an eye out for. Boots? Looking back at the photo, you scroll through the carousel until you spot them. 

The same shiny sparkly rhinestone boots you’d worn to your meeting. 

Celeste: @h_ngm_n I’m a woman of my word, of course 🤗

Not even a week goes by before you’re ‘spontaneously’ at a bar in LA. Jake has been there for the last two hours, as he insisted you both show up alone and then end up leaving together. You eventually found him in the VIP section, drinking with his buddies. 

You made sure to keep your distance for a few minutes - after all, his friends had no idea this was going down. The only people who knew about this little arrangement were your respective PR teams. That was it. No one else from your teams, your friends and family, absolutely no one knew what your little plan was. Maybe you should just leave. It was a verbal contract, you didn’t sign anything, you were just trying to make this work for the two of you-

The bartender pulls you from your deliberations. There is now a drink that you certainly didn’t order sitting in front of you. Well there was no going back now. Jake had likely made a show of sending over the drink and now you had to go through with this. Glancing over your shoulder, you see the jock, legs spread, arms resting on the back of the booth chair. Green eyes lock in your direction and send a cocky wink as a garnish to your drink. 

You are about to win your first Oscar with this performance. Throwing on a grin, you pick up the drink and easily sashay your way over to him and his football buddies. Some flash titanium wedding bands, some platinum. Some aren’t wearing them at all, like your date, mister 83 who leans forward upon your approach. “Well, well, well, long time no see hot shot.”

“Speak for yourself, pop star.” Jake stands to greet you, his arms coming around you, carefully as to not spill either of your drinks. You catch a whiff of his cologne when he does so. It’s rich, familiar in the way it reminds you of summers camping. Bonfire smoke and smores. Yet clean, like when you came home to a clean house, citrus floor cleaner lingering in the halls. Pulling back, you almost move forward again to sit in it. Easy does it. 

“Oh come on, three weeks isn’t that long.” You chide. While most of his body has pulled away from the hug, his free hand still sits on your waist, warm against the AC of the exclusive bar. 

“Technically it was a year ago.” Jake smirks before taking a sip of his drink and you want to groan. So you do. But spin it into something more playful. 

“Observant, are we?” You nearly snarl as you take a sip of your drink, Jake’s colleagues standing up. The one who’d sat right next to him grins and extends a hand. He’s tall, lean but has a stunning smile as he steps your way.

“Not sure we’ve met. Javy Machado, running back, San Diego Sea Lions-” the blonde looks at his friend with an amused scoff. 

“I think she knows who the Sea Lions are, Jav.” The look on the captain’s face is one of skepticism and amusement. You were here to dispel rumors. So, as much as you’d like to smack Jake for being a dick to his friend, you shake his teammate’s hand instead 

“In passing. I don’t follow football closely, but I get by. Celeste.” The smile on your face is genuine as the next player stands. Kind eyes, a domestic bar of hair on his upper lip and the build of a pickup truck, he goes for a quick one armed hug. When he lets go, you have to wipe the temptation of any swooning you were compelled to do. Especially since a gold band glistens on his left hand. 

You’re here for Jake anyways. 

“Name’s Bradley Bradshaw. They call me Rooster.” Your eyebrow furrows as your head twists. Before you can ask, another man on the other side of the room laughs. 

“You should hear him on the field when he’s sacking someone.” This one, curls and meticulously groomed facial hair to boot, leans forward and shakes your hand kindly. “I’m Mickey. That back there is Bob.”  

True to his word, at the end of the bench is a long haired man, tucked into his phone and fiddling with a ring. He doesn’t seem to match the energy of the rest of the group. Curious. “Bob!” He glances up at the sound of his name, blue eyes flitting from face to face before spotting you. When he does he breaks out into a smile. 

“Celeste! Gosh, wow it’s so cool to meet you! My girls adore your music.” This catches Jake’s attention, a brow popping up. 

“Aren’t both of ‘em less than five?” He asks and Bob looks between the two of you. 

“Yeah? It’s never too early to introduce them to great music and influential women.” There’s no faking the smile on your face as you reach over and shake his hand. When you do, you look at Jake with a ‘would you look at that’ coded grin. 

“That’s amazing to hear! I’m glad they have fun with it! That’s why I do it.” You glance back at Jake as he comes behind you, hand shifting to the small of your back. 

“Pay’s in the bathroom, I’m sure you’ll meet him sometime later tonight.” The quarterback gives a nod to his group, before guiding the two of you to a high top table not too far from them. When you sit down he looks at you with a laugh. “Flirt much?” 

“Excuse me?” Jumping to the defense, you watch Jake roll his eyes and then look back at Bradley, before facing you. 

“You were practically eye-fucking him.” 

“Was not.” 

“He’s happily married, leave him be.” The blonde sips at his drink and you can’t help but laugh when you realize he’s giving you a hard time. 

“Right, right, guess I’ll bother you instead.” The tease is off your lips in two seconds. Maybe he was right, you were coming off strong. You huff and sink into yourself briefly. “I don’t know if you realized this, but I haven’t had ‘flirt’,” your fingers mark the quotation marks in the air, “with anyone in a while. Let alone fake it.” 

Jake leans back in his chair, downing the rest of his beverage a smirk making way when he sets the glass down. 

“Don’t worry, you won’t be faking it for long.” 

The two of you sat at that table for probably an hour, bickering over which of the Pirates of The Caribbean movies were the best, and why glitter was a detriment to society. Another round of drinks and the football star return to the table as he laughs when he spills a little of your overflowing drink. 

“No, no I assure you. Glitter originated in some high tech nuclear weapons factory to make the enemy go insane upon introducing it to an environment.” He pushes your drink toward you as you pull your hair back. Not only were you not anticipating for him to be this passionate about it, but you weren’t planning on the night going like this. 

You were enjoying yourself. Jake had told you about his time at UT, six years spent studying communications no less. 

It made sense when you really dissected it. Jake had the ease to hold someone’s attention: he’d held yours this long after all, and he was well spoken. Both were things that were shocking to you. He soon enough revealed the plan had always been football. Communications was for post-retirement, when he got tired out and wanted to be back in the stadiums. 

Stories of his dad commentating his high school games came fondly before he asked about your background. You were a bit hesitant to divulge too much, but what you had was pretty bare-bones. 

Music had always been a hobby but never a career choice. You’d planned to go into school for a degree in education, a masters in English. Go and teach for a bit before getting your PhD in some niche of the world of writing and then become a professor at your alma mater. 

With the rise of social media and the multitudinous connections of the internet, a little original song of yours got popular. Local radio picked it up and then your label signed you. 

“It all was pretty spontaneous, really,” you answer. “My career was in no way by design, but… I wouldn’t change it.” The smile on your face is small, but genuine as your hair falls back around your face. Tracing the rim of your glass, you keep your eyes down before a hand pushes your hair out of your face. Coming eye to eye with him, he grins. 

“Guess it was written in the stars then.” His response catches you. Jake’s eyes are much softer than when you’d approached him earlier. They were dark, focused and possibly a little mischievous. Now? They were gentle. Every shade reassured you that the boisterous man you’d seen in the office and the press was nothing like the man under the helmet. 

It made far more sense to you now. How he’d gotten women hooked on him. The abrasiveness and bold exterior was the casing to the real character. 

How many women had actually made it past the outside?

The rustling of a fabric on leather comes from in front of you, watching as the blonde pulls out a wad of cash from his pocket. 

“Please tell me this isn’t you trying to buy my affection there, Seresin.” As he stands up, pushing his wallet back, the grin carved on his face doesn’t leave when he shakes his head. 

“No, no, princess. This is for the bartender. Turns out you’re not a cheap date.” His knuckles wrap onto the table briefly before he disappears. You blame the blush on your face on the humidity inside the building. 

The two of you bid your goodbyes, before starting to the front of the bar to exit. Reaching the street, it’s expectantly empty. He takes the side closest to the street as the two of you head down the way, toward the row of restaurants and shops that were quiet for the night. 

“Are you hungry?” Jake’s voice breaks through the cold of late January air, looking at him quizzically. 

“If you’re hungry we could go back-” His hand comes to your back again as he shakes his head. 

“Oh-ho, no ma’am I promise, I’ve got something way better.” 

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Unfortunately, he was right. The two of you stand in the glow of food truck lighting, beyond messy tacos in hand. He’s watching you with a smirk on his face, obnoxiously chewing the fish taco in his hand. 

“Is that not the best taco you’ve ever had?” Again, his voice is filled with ardor as he watches you attempt to maneuver the soft corn tortilla that seems to be spilling into your napkin. 

“It’s… a taco.” You shrug, looking down at the brown beef meal in your hands. Jake shakes his head, still chewing. 

“No, no, I will not have you slander Ganso’s Tacos. Absolutely not.” He sets his red basket down on a table, hand in a vice grip around his taco. “Here, open,” he maneuvers closer and you shake your head, backing up. 

“I am not eating your taco!”

“Eat it!!” The two of you laugh. Finally, you concede and take a bite of the hand fed taco. When he finally takes it back to his plate, his expression eagerly waits for your reaction.  One hand covers your mouth as you chew, nodding as Jake looks like he just stole the Mona Lisa without getting caught. 

“You’re right.” One singular fist to the air and he’s back to scarfing down his tacos. 

“I told you. Way better than bar food. This is by far the best taqueria in all of California. And I stand by that.” 

With full stomachs and messy hands, the two of you start back toward the bar, where Jake’s parked. When you do, you finally notice a car has been tailing the two of you since you ordered your meal. 

The crowd in front of the bar proves that your teams were certainly on to something. Flashes of light start in an onslaught, your hand coming to block your eyes. Still, you keep walking toward them, only for Jake to grab your hand and guide you toward his car. 

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Voices shout, questions sail through the air, your name, his name, Jonah’s, more questions about football- it all gets crammed into the cacophony before the passenger door opens under Jake’s hand, guiding you to your escape pod. 

The driver side door causes the car to shake with an unceremonious thud. In seconds, the engine to the sports car is ignited and the two of you are underway. 

It isn’t until you get about two miles out that one of you finally speaks. 

“How long do you think it’s going to take for those to show up online?” White lines on the road disappear as you head further and further from the bars and closer to the hotel you were staying at for the weekend. 

“I give it maybe six hours. Four if we’re lucky.” He laughs, but it doesn’t match the hearty ones he shared with you earlier.

A sports broadcast plays lowly on the radio, both of you overwhelmed by the cameras that stimulating conversation was far from what either of you were concerned with. It isn’t long until you spot your hotel. Jake navigates into the lane closest to the front of the building, pressing down on the brakes. You’re just about to unbuckle when he pulls back out into the other lane, lurching forward and away from your accommodation. 

“Um. Hello?” You question. The car whips around a turn, green eyes fixated to the rear view. Shifting in your seat, you glance behind you. 

“We’re being followed.” Jake just barely makes the light before it turns red, leaving the tailing SUV behind. 

“It’s probably just paparazzi, no big deal.” It’s easy to shrug off for you, but Jake huffs. 

“Yeah. And I’m not dropping you off at a hotel alone with vultures circling.” Navigating the CarPlay in the vehicle, he quickly moves to messages and asks his phone to send someone to your hotel to gather your things. 

“Jake, I’m-”

“You’re staying with me.”

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[withonly-sweetheart]

Fortune's Cookies

They aren't very sweet, especially when you're fooled into taking the first bite.

a/n: gosh there's literally so much rookie leon art going around and the fever got to me, hope you like my twist on this classic trope! honestly everyone listed below contributed to this with their rookie leon pieces, seriously i stared at them while writing it helps seriously.

@chesue00 - you KNOW it.

@faintfill - MY SOURCE OF ROOKIE LEON SKETCHES NO KIDDING

@uhlillie - i hope you know which one im talking about girl... DAMN

@bunnivievve - FOODDDDDDD just like i said rookie leon is served

(psst. if i didnt mention u in this one artist moots TRUST you're definitely in one of the other three.)

tw: cavity fluff i hope i needed to brush my teeth after writing this (probably because of all the panda express fortune cookies i ate while typing), angst bc duh and i think thats it?

wc: 7k

“Your voice will bring a smile today.”

That’s what greets you, printed in those horrible skinny red letters, paper curled in your fingers. The styrofoam boxes are dotted with grains of undercooked rice and steamed vegetables, a treat you knew you deserved after such a long day. 

And this is what fate tells you. Good thing you’ve never believed in superstition. You crumple the paper and toss it onto the tray and scoff.

Like you’ll take advice from a cookie.

But as the number of people in the store starts to dwindle, and the night shift employees trudge in through the back door, you wind up with your eyes glued to the message, wondering what kind of voice it referred to. 

It’s been a long time since your voice has brought anyone joy, hasn’t it? Your job mostly consists of reminding multiple colleagues of their deadlines, only to be promptly ignored. Your existence only comes back to their minds two minutes before their reports are due, when they forward a hastily written piece that you don’t bother to read.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” A hand waves dangerously close to your face, brushing your nose, and the contact is enough to startle you back, glaring up at the offender. Even with the harsh swinging lights stinging your eyes, you can see warm blue eyes and sunny hair. 

It feels as if the sky has descended to meet you.

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you mutter back in response, clearing your throat, waving your tied words away. “All good here.”

He shifts away from you, maybe mistaking your inward gesture as shooing him away. You think of saying something about him, about assuring him, but you wonder why you feel that way. "Oh. I, uh, saw you seemed distracted. Just wanted to make sure you're okay." 

You wince, acutely aware of your frazzled appearance after the long shift. "Thank you, but I'm fine. Just tired is all."

“That’s not good,” he notes with a small frown, leaning back to press his heels to the ground. “Did you eat well?”

“Do you fuss over all strangers?” you muse.

“Oh, well, uhm, I see you a lot here, not that I’m watching you, just that I noticed that you’re here, a lot, so I thought you must like food-” 

“You talk a lot.” You raise an eyebrow, trying to cut off his flustered stammering with your motion.

“That came out a lot worse than I’d imagined in my head,” he admits with a slight dip of his shoulders. “Sorry about that, I got nervous. I don't talk to many people… or, uh, women... so I tend to be a bit of a dumbass.”

Surprisingly, as shitty as you feel, a small smile graces the corner of your mouth.

“You’re honest, aren’t you?” 

“According to a lot of people… yeah.”

“I don’t think I caught your name earlier,” you say, eyes scanning his vivid outfit for a nametag. There, pinned to his apron like a defining feature of his. “Leon?”

“That’s me,” he replies proudly. “And I already know yours!”

“Sorry?”

“Your… name?” Leon puckers his bottom lip, as if scarring it with his teeth will take back the words hanging between you. “Sorry… like I said, I’ve seen you here a lot.”

And he smiles shyly.

You’re flushed the whole way home, thinking of that sweet little smile, the way his eyes crinkled, his fresh linen scent, how you forgot how to breathe. 

And your carefully built world topples over.

<><><><>

You never expected to look forward to the little messages in your fortune cookies, but you blame it on the fact you know Leon’s handing them to you, standing behind the counter in that cute little outfit. Even if he has no idea what’s in them, you can gaslight yourself into thinking he deliberately picks the ones complimenting your smile, or telling you how pretty your eyes look.

Of course, he can tell you that all himself. You sit shoulder to shoulder with him on the stools that you think are meant to be mocking bar stools, but they have barely any space between them, so you’re crammed together.

You wait for him to move away, to tell you to put some distance between you two, but nothing comes. You watch his profile, that handsome face eat cheap noodles when he really deserves so much better.

The lights dim as the last employee clocks out. It’s gotten so late that the crickets demand entrance, chirping their redundant sound, silencing as you walk past the slouching grass like plant that tickles your bare ankles as you walk back to your respective cars.

“Well,” he says, twisting the fabric of his shirt between his fingers, like he hasn’t been talking to you for the last two weeks. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you affirm, nodding. The grin that eats up his face is so infectious you can’t help but smile back.

The same smile drops from your face when you check your Uber texts, a system you’ve repeated so much over the last few months that it feels like second nature, but not very natural when you see that your driver had to back out of the deal at the last minute, suspiciously also taking your money with them, leaving you broke and without a ride. 

You stare at the small blue rectangle gripped in your fingers, heat rising to your face, realizing how stupid you must seem to the guy who must be pulling away right at this moment, and will he ever want to hang out with you again-

“Something wrong?” You hear his voice before you hear the knocks on his car roof, and he’s so tall that even at this distance you have to crane your neck to glower at him, and a lopsided smile overtakes his face.

“This isn’t fair,” you insist after explaining your situation, and the only response he gives is a slight shake of his head, as if exasperated. “I already paid all the money!”

“Crap, then something’s wrong,” he mumbles. “Do you usually always use all your money on the trip here?”

You falter. “Not usually.”

He arches a golden brow, a gate to your forthcoming confession. “Then…?”

“Well, I come out here to see you,” you admit quietly. “And then I go home.”

“Exactly how far away do you live?” His voice is smooth, but his expression reminds you of those times when your mother caught you doing something you shouldn’t be, doing something that shows how much you need that validation to survive.

“Not that far,” you assure, nodding your head, but you fail to convince the both of you. 

“Do you want a ride home?” he asks quietly, softly, as if the night might intrude on your conversation.

“That would be nice,” you reply in a hushed whisper, as if further backing up the idea that the moon is listening, lighting up your words, shining on his hair as you both clamber into his car.

He apologizes for the mess in his spotless car, and you assume it’s just a courtesy, but he goes on and on about how he needs to get his life together. You don’t pay attention to the words that come out of his mouth, just his mouth in general. The amount of times you’ve done this slips from your mind, just another irrelevant number in your life.

If his life is a mess, your life must be a heap of shit.

Your address tumbles past strangely parched lips, well, at least it did, a while ago. But the ride was far too short, and he pulls up in your driveway, a bewildered expression on his face, as if he can’t believe this is where you live; a humble, simple abode, just like all your neighbors.

“So, this is goodbye, then?”

“Not forever, I hope,” he whispers, voice breathy.

“Uh, okay then? But let’s meet somewhere that isn’t your place of work?”

You were joking when you said it, but it seems he doesn’t pick up on it. His eyes are dreamy and thoughtful on his drive back, and by the time he gets home, he has a plan.

He’s going to stun you.

<><><><>

“Well?”

Leon’s gone out of his way to please you. Everything you’ve said during your time together, those vague comments about your favorite type of cheese, your opinions on the amazingly random topics you’re always switching between, it’s all right there.

You hope it's a physical display of his love.

His heart is spread bare, on the checkered, classic pattern of red and white, starkly contrasting with the blades of grass that bear your combined weight, not one, but two, so closely conjoined that you feel more at ease than you have in years.

You share a smile as you indulge in the simple yet delightful cucumber sandwiches, savoring each bite as you bask in each other's company. In the far distance, birds chirp, serenading you both, as if a soundtrack to these moments that seem to tick by faster than they should.

Leon's eyes meet yours, a softness in his gaze that speaks volumes. Time slows, encapsulating you both, a delicious freedom licking up your spine.

“Didn’t know you could cook,” you remark, wiping your face with a napkin, feeling content as you lean back, lying your head on your palms.

He mirrors your action, although his head twists to meet you, eyes sparkling. “I wouldn’t be working at a restaurant if I didn’t know a few things, right?”

“Guess so.” You shrug and the afternoon wears on, the park imaginative and alive with the children that race around the playground, darting like minnows through the swings and slides.

If you had met Leon in your childhood, would things have been different? Would you still be where you are today, arms brushing, only held apart by the barrier of remains scattered between you both, a battlefield of scarred napkins and damaged plastic utensils, a war fought to keep you separate.

He is caring and decisive and rational, the most reliable person you know, and you faintly register it’s been half a year, and you haven’t progressed any further with each other. The battle has come to a standstill, and neither side dares to make a move.

You think that half the problem lies not with you, but with Leon, and what he does with all his free time. He’s not the type to laze around; you think you know him well enough to make that assumption, but you aren’t sure anymore.

Cue example one: the mysterious phone calls that have begun to grow in frequency, the ones that always sour Leon’s mood, leave him sullen and unfriendly to talk to. Eventually, you grow tired of his monosyllabic answers, and make your absence known, still wondering what goes on in his life.

With a furrowed brow, he glances at the caller ID, his expression tightening with concern. You watch as his once-relaxed posture stiffens with some unseen burden. With a sigh, he excuses himself to take the call, leaving you momentarily alone with your thoughts.

You can sense the tension tinging the area, Leon’s clenched jaw betraying the stress he tries to conceal as he stalks back to you, shoving his phone into his pocket, evidently agitated.

“You don’t need a ride home, do you?” His voice contrasts his request; he obviously isn’t in the mood to drive you home. 

“I’ll get a cab.” You shake your head, not wanting to be the instrument he releases all that pent up anger on.

He casts a shadow over you, standing tall and easy, in the dying sun he looks like a dying angel, his eyes soft and sad, skin begging to be touched. And while you want nothing more than to reach out and caress his cheek, tell him it’ll be okay, kiss his troubles away, you don’t know what you are right now.

Friends? Would a friend do that? So you offer him a supportive smile, trying not to seem deliberate, and amidst the fading light of the park and the cooling breeze that accompanies you back to your divided lives, you already regret it, watching Leon speed off, just a distant thought in your memory. 

You should trust your gut more often.

<><><><>

As the car glides through the shadowy city streets, you catch sight of the new monument in the distance, the one Leon must’ve told you about. Surprising yourself, you decide to take a spontaneous detour. You tap your driver on the shoulder, and she smiles encouragingly. For the most part, the drive was silent, but you don’t mind her soft voice explaining the history behind why they decided to construct it in the first place.

She pulls around the corner, approaching the area near the monument, but the statue quickly is pushed to the back of your mind. It’s the flashing police lights and a sense of urgency in the air that catches your attention. A crime scene tape cordons off the area, and officers are stopping all vehicles passing through.

A stern-faced cop approaches your cab and instructs you both to step out. The driver uneasily abandons her car where it’s parked, then weaves through the forming crowd effortlessly, as if she’s gotten used to the downtown mobs of people.

You, however, barely come to this side of the town, where the city lights are always attacking your eyes that are comfortable with the soft sunset across the farm, where the people are always knocking against each other like clumsy goats, everyone bustling with a purpose.

As you also try your best to push your way through the throng, a knot forms in your stomach at the sight that greets you in the center of the commotion. The blood reaches up to where your footsteps falter, where everyone steps back to avoid staining their footwear.

Splatters of crimson paint a macabre picture that sends a shiver down your spine. The wail of sirens pierces the night, flaring lights casting an eerie glow that dances like amethyst flames, illuminating the limp body that uniformed figures crouch near.

And one of those figures, someone you’d never expect at the grim scene of a murder, is Leon, his unfamiliar stony expression cast in a stark light against the backdrop of chaos.

You draw closer, questions threatening to unravel the fabric of your reality, steeling yourself for the confrontation, because you thought you were close to him, a person he could trust. Was that such a silly thought? To think that you might have had something?

Apparently it was.

“Leon?” you demand, pressing yourself into the caution tape, warning bells ringing in your mind at the neon yellow bending to your will against your stomach.

“What?” He glances up and around, scanning the entire world until his eyes land on yours, going wide slightly, and his position stumbles, as if his legs give way.

“Get up, rookie,” another cop barks. “Focus! And you, stop distracting him!” Someone bats at your face, but you just sidestep the blow and storm closer, in the tension of the moment.

If you had just a speck of your sense at the time, you might’ve forced yourself to step away, to take a few calming deep breaths, but seeing his face dappled in such an unnatural light, to see his warmth be taken away to something that’s real, something like a life gone. 

You always saw him as your solace, away from your life, something that was unreal, just for you. You forget to see him as a being of his own, with feelings of his own. And sadly, you don’t know the difference between impulsive and intrusive. 

You’re surprised when Leon rises to meet your eyes, albeit it only lasts for a moment until he’s towering over you again, and there’s a sense of authority there that wasn’t there before, eyes strict and narrowed.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he says, in such a final tone it doesn’t occur to you that you could argue back. But his voice, a splinter of your Leon, the one you know, slips through. “I promise.”

So you stand back, near the patrol cars, their wails ratting your skull, but you grit your teeth and force yourself through it, eyes directed on Leon. It’s a while before the crowd clears, presumably because the idea of a murder is enticing until they see how long it truly takes, as compared to television.

But you stand there, leaning against the side of the car that you know is Leon’s, recognizing it as the one that you’ve rode in so many times, and you wonder why he’s taken a fragment of your time here, to this place outside of your relationship.

Eventually, Leon makes frantic motions to the top of the monument, stretching to the sky before gesturing back to the body, and everyone around him offers a pensive expression and solemn nods before someone calls out something you can’t hear.

The sirens die down immediately, and everyone claps Leon on the back. He flushes and stumbles with them to the cars, and you promptly ignore everyone’s gaze on you as he approaches. But there’s someone with him. 

Feline eyes meet yours, an arm draped over his shoulder, competitive expression and this mysterious woman and Leon saunter over to you. She’s dressed in a long, beige trench coat, and her black sunglasses rest low on her nose, perched just right so that she can lift her face to offer you the most cursory of glances before turning away.

And she has the audacity to peck Leon on the cheek before she gives you a smug smile with the side of her face that only you can see before waving goodbye, somehow gracefully, and stalking away to what you assume is a fancy sports car.

“Look, I know you have a lot of questions.” Leon holds up his hands in defense, before grinning, and involuntarily, you feel the corner of your mouth quirk upwards.

“Lot of is an understatement,” you grumble.

“Talk over dinner?” he offers.

“Is this you trying to impress me?”

“I mean, I don’t know,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Is it working?”

<><><><>

“Right, and you didn’t think telling me you were a fucking cop was important?” Your spring roll is devastated, its insides spilling everywhere on your plate, bits of cabbage and carrot dotting the cardboard.

“I didn’t think it would change anything between us,” he mumbles. “So what difference would it make?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You push away from the table, and his eyes follow you when you stand up, and his actions seem to come naturally, as an instinct, when he trails you across the empty store.

“You know what it means!” he protests.

“Maybe I don’t, Leon, so maybe you should explain,” you retort. “Explain why you thought it was okay to lead me on like that, all this time, when you have a girlfriend! Which one of us are you really cheating on?”

“What?” Now he looks genuinely confused, and his confusion seems to spark some doubt in your own defense, breaking down your sure walls. “Girlfriend? Cheating?”

His eyes are glazed over with tears, and if he starts crying, you’re not sure what you’ll do. You take a step closer, but now he’s the one to recoil away, shaking his head, wiping his eyes.

Leon inhales sharply. “How could you say something like that? I told you when we met, I’m not… not very good with these kinds of things.”

“But she-”

“Kissed me?” He scoffs. “Yeah, right. Like your mother’s never kissed you goodnight.”

You misread everything. That smug smile was her approval, on those curved lips, those narrowed eyes that were… well, just always narrowed. How could you get something so wrong?

"I... I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "I didn't know... I thought..." Your words falter as you struggle to find the right ones to express the whirlwind of relief, a gust of skittish butterflies pattering against the walls of your stomach, trying to find release.

"I should have been honest from the start," he murmurs, his gaze never leaving yours. "My job… it can hurt people. You saw. I want to keep you safe."

“You’re not mad?” you ask quietly.

Leon's eyes twinkle with a hint of mischief as he responds, "How could I ever be mad at this cute little face?" He playfully puffs your cheeks together, a gesture meant to be endearing.

Before you can fully process his teasing remark, Leon's demeanor shifts once again, his voice lower and more intimate as he adds, "Or... these lips." And with a sudden, decisive move, he leans in and presses a tender kiss against your lips.

And your fragile world topples over.

Again.

<><><><>

Leon never ceases to surprise you, that much you can definitely expect. You shut your computer, ready for your lunch break, when someone calls your name from the lower floor. That much you’ve come to expect, but while you’re gathering your belongings, someone else calls out something else.

“Hey, hurry up! Don’t keep your boyfriend waiting!”

To say you stumbled would be nice. You somehow manage to trip over the arm of the chair, end up with all your papers fluttering to the ground, but you ignore the mess and file it away for later, trying to tame your hair (an impossible feat in three seconds) as you storm down the stairs.

Your heels click on the tiles as you make your descent as graceful as can be, minus that one part where you trip and lurch forward before gripping the hand railing for safety. You see him standing at the entrance, talking to the receptionist guy, a box nestled between his arms. 

“Doughnuts?” you ask, staring at the box enticingly, recognizing the bright pink and rainbow sprinkles from your childhood. 

“Got some free time,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your nose before opening the box. It seems that you really have everyone’s attention now. “And coupons!”

You toss him a shit eating grin to show your returned affection before immediately curling your fingers around a glazed doughnut. And eventually, once the first person timidly approaches, quietly asking if they could maybe have one, Leon beams.

“I brought enough for everyone!” he proclaims, and he steps to the side to reveal three similar boxes, all presumably stocked with the same doughnuts.

“Looks like you’re an office favorite now, huh?” you tease, nudging him with your elbow. He shifts from your impact and returns the gesture, in the process of doing so smears chocolate frosting on the underside of his nose.

“I’ll always be your favorite officer though, right?” he jokes in response.

You don’t respond, you’re too busy staring at that one smear of cocoa against his skin, and suddenly you’re itching for a napkin, so you twist over your shoulder to grab one.

“Righ-” His echo is muffled by the napkin stuffed into his mouth as you gently dab at the area, squinting your eyes. 

“Yeah, of course, totally,” you mumble absentmindedly, satisfied with your efforts. You take the excuse a little further just to stare at his amused expression, the quirk of his brow, the tilt of his eyes softening.

Your colleagues will never let you hear the end of this.

Either way, since he’s on break and he’s on the manager’s good side, bribing her with a few Boston Cream doughnuts, she allows him to hop upstairs with you.

“So, if you’re a cop,” you ask while rubbing hand sanitizer into your palms. “Why’re you working at Panda Express?”

“They lowered the income rate for the citizens of Raccoon City, including the police force,” he grumbles, swinging his legs from where he’s perched on the side of your desk. “Which I think is totally stupid!”

“So you think you shouldn’t have applied at all?” you query further.

“Well, honestly? I’m glad I applied,” he admits, and at your questioning expression, continues, “I wouldn’t have met you.”

“Hooray, taxes,” you say numbly, flipping through the giant stack of papers left on your desk, all jumbled up from your earlier mishap.

“Hooray, taxes, indeed,” he agrees.

“I was being sarcastic.” Leon scoffs, twisting over his shoulder to lean down and meet your lips. When he pulls away, there’s an endearing yet mocking look in his eyes.

“I’m not that stupid.”

<><><><>

Nothing happens that day, you don’t see a black cat anywhere, you don’t walk under any ladders, and if you do walk on cracks, well, you do that every day, so your luck must always be this horrible, right?

You’ve somehow scored this moonlit masterpiece strolling beside you, a being born from the clouds, so maybe you’re not all that unlucky.

Usually, you get a warning when bad things happen. But all you can feel is the jittery, warm feeling that you get when you’re brushing hands with Leon, trying to bring him closer to you. You think he notices, and doesn’t say anything.

You invite yourself into his car, but the first of many problems to come arrives in the form of water that splashes on Leon’s face, just above his eyebrow, and he quickly slides into his seat.

You absently brush the area, admiring his hair, his boyish qualities, and suddenly wonder if he’s always looked this young. Far too innocent for the world.

“It’s nice in here,” you offer.

He sinks back into the seat with a gentle, relaxed smile. "Well, either way, get comfortable. Looks like we’re expecting rain.”

You nod, legs unsteady, and find yourself nestled in leather beside his cologne-scented form. The engine hums to life, and he shifts gears, pulling onto the road as traffic flees.

He glances over, moonlight caressing sculpted cheeks. "What’s wrong?"

“Do you have any water?” He gestures to the water bottle in the cupholder on his left side, on the driver’s door. Your knees knock against each other as you reach over to grasp it, ducking under his outstretched arms, averting your eyes to your right rather than the other direction.

“Can I…?” You gesture to the bottle. “Or should I just like, you know, waterfall, or whatever-”

“We’ve literally exchanged saliva,” he states bluntly. “I don’t think I have a problem with you drinking from my water bottle.”

“Ugh, you weirdo.” But you’re the one drinking like a starved woman, which you suppose that you are, but that of which you’re really dragging your gaze over isn’t the water.

And you suppose, logically, Leon’s 70% water.

Water that evaporates under the heat of your eyes, drifting up to the previously cloudless sky, forming puffs of sorrow that cry back down to you, tears slamming against the windshield. You ponder how he can even see the road through the downpour.

Eventually, after grumbling under his breath, Leon pulls over, gazing into your upturned face with a question in his eyes, older than his years.

“Would you, uhm, mind if we just went to my place? It’s closer anyways, and I don’t want to risk driving any further than I have to in these conditions…”

You smile, and he can see your answer woven in your eyes.

<><><><>

Leon forgot to mention his (adoptive) parents live right next door. So of course, when they’re just out and about casually watching him through the door camera, they might just happen to say a dashing young lady walk out of his car.

And said young lady is unfamiliar to these judging, supreme figures that must decide Leon’s fate for him, because he’s just a boy. Their precious little baby.

So that’s what you assumed happened when Leon’s parents clambered out of their door, calling for you to wait, his mother pulling her cardigan around herself tighter against the chill.

And now here you are, facing two people that, no offense, look nothing like the man seated next to you, fingers entwined, foot tapping out a nervous beat on the wooden floor.

“So, darling, how’s work going?” Another placeholder question for what she really wants to know: how much do you make in a year? Do you have a degree? Did you even finish high school?

You respond with everything they must want to hear, like those questions on the backs of those 2000’s magazines with the answer that’s always right, the one that has the perfect amount of sense in it, the Goldilocks rule.

Goldilocks must have been gobbled up by the bears this night, because every answer seems to deepen the furrow forming between their brows, as if they’re in sync, and you wonder how you can manage to screw up something that should be simple.

Meeting the parents, check. What’s next, falling into the cake at the wedding? You must be planning too far ahead judging by their unimpressed looks.

“Mom,” Leon groans. “Cut it out!”

“I’m just getting to know her, sweetie,” she replies sweetly, voice dripping like molasses, and you can tell there’s a lot more she’s keeping behind her tongue. "Well, dear, do you have any hobbies or interests you're passionate about?"

"Oh, I just love cooking!" you exclaim, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up your face. Maybe you’ve finally found something to impress them with.

Leon's father leans in, his interest piqued. "What kind of dishes do you enjoy cooking?" he asks, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.

"I love trying out new recipes from different cuisines," you reply, your excitement palpable. "Right now I’m learning how to cook Thai cuisine!"

Leon's mother nods, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Cooking is such a beautiful art form," she muses, her face softening. "It's wonderful to see someone so passionate about creating delicious meals. Someone who can share that love with our son."

You wonder if any other girl had waltzed along, marveled at cooking with them, would they have dropped their judging character immediately, just as they had with you?

You suppose it’s a mystery you don’t need to solve.

Besides, you don’t have to worry about facades with Leon.

Of course not.

But you do wonder why he hasn’t touched any of the food.

<><><><>

You sit back, sly fingers curved around the tender flesh of his waist, pressing your head further into the crook of his arm. You watch his chest rise and fall like the arrival and departure of the sun, bringing you warmth under the blanket that restricts your movements, tucked in around you like a burrito.

He must be hot, you realize, he’s sweltering under the blanket, but when you offer to turn on the overhead fan, he shivers like he’s cold at the same time and shakes his head.

In moments of silence, you catch glimpses of a far off-look in his eyes, a horror movie long forgotten, as if his thoughts have wandered to a place you can’t reach. There’s shadows of things he doesn’t say, things you know he wants to say.

“Hey, are you good?” You shift your weight to look up at him, where you might’ve found yourself admiring the curve of his chin, or his dappled skin, but now you only feel concern.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, mouth stretching in a yawn. “My new case is taking a bit longer than I’d hoped.”

“Mhm?” you press gently, wanting to get more clarity on the situation without seeming nosy. His response is delayed, a different, pitiful expression grappling to take hold.

“Oh… the, uhm, pharmaceutical company? Something that has to do with… was it rain?” Leon shakes his head, clicking his tongue in the back of his throat. “You know what? Forget it. Tonight’s our night.”

He says ‘our’, but he pays you little to no attention for the next three hours. 

Your first thought is that you're boring him. Have you already become so insufferable that he doesn’t want to hang out with you anymore? You had expected it, of course, you’re not a very animated person, but he loved you, didn't he?

Leon’s gone quiet, silent, like he’s back in that box in his mind you can never seem to pierce. The light that used to dance in his eyes now flickers dimly, like a fading ember struggling to hold onto its warmth.

He carries himself with the same grace and poise, like a practiced act to a play you weren’t a part of, and you can’t push it away anymore. But of course, as all things in your life seem to follow, when you finally find yourself gaining the courage to confront him, he's gone.

<><><><>

Missing. And no one knows where he is. And some part of you blames yourself, you obviously must've scared him away.

“You know what’s wrong!” You bite your tongue to keep you from raising your volume, not so much fearing the fish beneath you but the woman leaning against the shipping containers, scrutinizing slender nails with feigned boredom.

If Leon trusts her, she should hear your first plea. She knows him better than you do, much to your dismay, but it could work out in your favor currently.

Her expression remains stony.

"Please," you beg, and a sliver of emotion slips through that mask- confusion? "Help me save Leon. I know you care for him, even if you can't show it."

Her crimson lips quirk. "I have… undisclosed reasons for ensuring his well-being. But my work takes precedence, and I can’t disclose anything to you." 

You glare through lingering tears. "No deals, no games. You tell me where he's investigating right now." 

A long pause, then she sighs. "Very well. It seems you really won't leave me alone, hm?" She grins coldly. "Shall we play the heroes, just this once?"

Playing the heroes is harder than it turns out to be, it seems. 

"Evening, boys. My associate and I have a… delivery." The guards blink, stupefied, then waves you through with dopey grins, mostly directed at her. Ada smirks. "Pathetic."

A floorplan materializes in her hand, every room and hallway illuminated with ghastly blue precision. "Samples are held in labs B5 through 7. Avoid guards, cameras. And try not to set anything off - we're on a tight schedule."

You dart through shadows, cautiously approaching the correct hall. Surprisingly, nothing contradicts your journey, as if the whole building’s been abandoned. Guess it’s your lucky day. 

You're wondering just how lucky you really are when you turn to usher Ada ahead, only to freeze as you turn the corner, and there, just a few feet away, he sits.

So calmly, so pristine, as if life was just as simple as sitting on the floor, in the middle of a hallway, in a building where you don't belong, after ghosting everyone who knows you for two days.

And yet there's something different. Haggard eyes stare from a chalk-white face, lips twisted in a feral snarl. That face, once so stunning you had to think about his existence, now only conveys hatred.

"L-Leon?" you breathe. But those eyes betray no recognition, only hunger. As your stare, transfixed by fright and grief, a click sounds behind you.

"Well, well. Fancy meeting you here." Ada glares down the barrel she points to Leon's head, somehow still perfectly composed. You want to rip off her head. "Now, are we all going to play nice?"

For a heartbeat, no one moves. Then Leon's eyes flicker, awareness filtering into his eyes by slow degrees, and he stands up at half that speed, as if time is against him.

But then he jolts back, as if something's clicked, and suddenly he's back with you, standing in front of you, gasping for breath and clutching you tightly.

You wait for a moment, not quite sure if you're imagining things or not, before a dry, unamused chuckle rips from your throat and slowly morphs into the laugh you're used to sharing with him.

Leon leans closer to you, resting your forehead against his, cupping your face as he stares down at you, recognition so evident in those open eyes. “How'd you find me?”

“Well, it's not like the department was going to notice,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. Ada scoffs in reply, but her head tilts to the side.

“And your endearing girlfriend here wouldn't let me get away that easily.”

You suppose her tone is light enough that you can let it pass as a joke, and at the moment you're so overwhelmed with relief that you aren't too worried about her idea of you either way.

“Seeing you… gosh,” he groans, pressing a palm to his temple, hissing. “I can barely think straight!”

“I know, baby, I know,” you coo comfortingly, keeping your voice soft so as to not alert any guards that might've pulled up around the area.

“No, I can't…” His eyes go fazed again, blank, emotionless, and once again he's slipped through your grasp like grains of sand on a beach, only there is nothing tranquil about this situation.

“Leon, listen to me. You’re going to be just fine,” you affirm, nodding your head, hoping he'll copy your motion.

He doesn't. "I...I can feel it," he gasps. Beads of sweat run tracks through the grim on his face. "It's… stronger than me..."

You grip his hand tight, ignoring the growing feverheat. "No, Leon, you can beat this. You always do." But even you can hear the desperation in your voice.

And you wait for Ada to chime in with some classic, yet somehow sassy third-wheel dialogue, but it never comes. In fact, she's vanished into the shadows, presumably already so far away you can't hear the click of her heels on the sterile floors.

Leon groans, and your attention snaps back to him, face contorting. "Go," he grits out. "Drive… and don't look back."

“I’m not leaving you here!” you proclaim, and his eyes soften in confusion as you sling his arms around your shoulder.

You're sure half the population must've heard your racket at this point, but it seems something else has gotten the security's attention.

As long as it's not you, you don't mind. Leon’s lower lip wavers, unshed tears sparkling in his eyes, and you want to peck everything that hurts until he's okay. But you can't be sure of anything until you're both safe.

The first responders always seem to pick up the prank calls from the teenagers that don't need their help, but it seems like hours go by the more Leon's blood coats your fingers, and inevitably, your phone screen.

He's stopped responding to your questions, and you fight to keep just a fragment of his conscience there with you, but his eyes, the vivid blue gone dull, meet yours and offer no further response.

When the ambulance finally arrives, they leave you outside the gates, denying you entry, with those ruby dusted hands and diamond streaked face.

You suppose you've always wanted to be the jewel in the night that races to the hospital to see their lover. And now that just seems silly.

<><><><>

Three weeks.

That's all the time he'll have with you. And even then, he's not truly there. He struggles to formulate his own thoughts, and now, whenever you see him, all you can think of is who he used to be.

As for Ada, you haven't seen her since. She hasn't snitched on you, so you suppose that it wouldn't hurt anyone to keep the events of that day between the three of you.

Two of you, now.

He isn't a person anymore. He isn't your Leon. But that's hard to remember when you've never been good at seeing what's beneath the surface, the dense, complex layers that create a person.

You see his soft, peaceful face that is like second nature to you, and you wonder if he'll respond to you today, even after hours of repeating the same truth that you know somewhere, deep down, you’ll never believe. The doctor's left the room already, decreeing two hours of treatment should do something for him, save him, much like removing a tumor.

“I went to our place, picked up some lunch for us,” you murmur, knowing he can't hear you. “You weren’t standing at the counter like always, and I almost lost it. Again.”

You can imagine him, if he was really here, chuckling, shaking his head at your questionable behavior. Not just a shell, a half of a person, but a whole that somehow also completed you.

See, this is why you failed math. Are you half a person without him, or whole?

“I got us a fortune cookie!” you say, trying to keep your voice upbeat, as if your positive energy could transfer to him, in a magical, mystical manner, and he'd come back to you.

“Let's read it, yeah?” No point in waiting for a response when you know it'll never come.

Thin, pale letters. How odd, they resemble Leon's strangely flushed face.

“Today, your voice will bring a smile.” You suppress one of those and instead roll your eyes. “Your friends can’t think of new content, can they?”

You stuff the paper into your handbag, slung over the plastic chair near his bed. You've blocked out the rest of the world, now is time for just you two, however far away he may seem. Which is why you scowl up at the doctor, slightly confused at her sympathetic look, and then your ears ring and you shift back to reality. The reality of the situation.

The reality of the flatline.

The reality that, no matter how much you thrash in the security guard's arms, Leon's not coming back. He’s gone.

In a way, he's been gone for longer than you've chosen to accept. Maybe it would've been easier to let him go sooner. You're marched straight out of the hospital, a beeline for the exit, and you have little time to shout your goodbyes.

But you've grown used to taking advice from cookies. After all, they've gotten you to this point. The sarcasm you had so long ago seems silly to you, now, the fact that a biscuit could decide your fate.

To Leon?

Your voice keeps him smiling all the way up to the clouds.

[nagaytoe]

Nativitas Domini

(noun) [Latin] Lord's birth

Jericho Ichabod X Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Requests: open

Note: Me writing something that's not Sol X Reader?! And it's fluff on top of that?! (I have actually never written fluff before if i recall correctly)

Unbelievable... Enjoy this Christmas special though, y'all (even though it's a tad bit late but better late than never, am I right?) and apologies for not having posted any one shot in three weeks (I was in a bad writing slump)

I initially wanted to make this another angst but I was too in love with the fluff, I couldn't bring myself to destroy that...

“My Love, wake up.”

A soft voice woke you from your deep slumber. You opened your eyes slowly, blinking away the remnants of sleep still clearly visible in your gaze.

“Crowe?”

You opened your eyes fully to reveal your lover's silhouette in front of the window, shielding your eyes from direct sunlight.

“Have you slept well?” Crowe brushed your hair out of your face and behind your ear. His gaze was full of love and admiration, as if you were the most precious gem, the most beautiful being he has ever laid eyes on. You hummed in quiet agreement and he chuckled.

“That’s good, that’s good. We still have quite some things planned for today, remember?”

You pondered for a moment, gathering your thoughts, since your mind was still foggy from sleep. Another quiet chuckle snapped you out of your thoughts as a hand was placed on the top of your head, ruffling your hair.

“We wanted to go shopping for presents, then bake some cookies and then go to Jess’ and Brittney's place to celebrate with the others. It’s already 10 am, it might be better if we get started soon.”

You slowly sat up on the bed, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and yawning.

“I already made breakfast, the only missing piece at the table is you.” Crowe stretched out his hand towards you, a gentle smile playing on his lips. You looked at him for a moment, unable to believe that he is actually here with you, by your side. Taking his hand and nodding, Crowe helped you get out of the bed and the two of you walked towards the kitchen together.

The smell of pancakes and orange juice invaded your senses and you soon saw what Crowe had prepared for you. The table was set for two people, in the middle of the round surface was a plate, soft and thick pancakes stacked on top of it. Next to it was a juice pitcher, filled with your favorite juice. However, these weren't the only things on the table. A big bouquet with the most colorful flowers was placed next to your plate and cutlery.

You let out a soft gasp, looking over at Crowe with a wide smile, your eyes glistening.

“Crowe…they are beautiful…”

Walking up behind you and wrapping his arm around your waist, Crowe pressed a kiss on the crown of your hair. “They are no match for you though…”

You giggled softly in response and leant into Crowe's embrace.

“I love them, Crowe, thank you so much…”

The bouquet truly was beautiful. Purple calla lilies, white baby’s breaths and blue agapanthuses. The colors reminded you of Crowe, with his blue eyes and usual purple attire.

Crowe pulled your chair back, gesturing for you to sit down. Right after you sat down he moved around the table, sitting down in front of you. You loved mornings like these, even when the sun was absent they were filled with warmth. It was domestic. It was real. Sometimes you couldn't quite believe your luck. How were you fortunate enough to end up with someone like Jericho?

“[____]?”

You were snapped out of your thoughts by your lover's voice. Looking up, you saw him smiling at you with admiration and a hint of amusement in his eyes. His arm was propped up on the table, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand.

“What are you thinking about, Love?”

A warm feeling spread through your chest. You were still crushing on him as hard as on the first day. His words, his voice, his personality, his looks… Everything about him was perfect.

“I'm just… thinking about how lucky I am to be with you.”

A swift look of surprise brushed over Crowe's features before he smiled brighter than before. He reached over the table, taking your hand into his bigger, warmer one. “I am the lucky one, my Starlight.”

Swooning at his words, you realized that he had pretty much ruined you for everyone else, Crowe had you on the hook. You doubted that you could ever love someone like you loved him, but then again, you didn't plan to either.

You gave him a sweet smile and he let go of your hand after a few beats, gesturing for you to fill your plate with the pancakes he had prepared. He did this pretty often, surprising you with self-made breakfast, yet you fell head over heels for him over and over again, no matter how often he did it.

Reaching over with knife and fork, you took two pancakes off the pile, filling your plate with them. As soon as you took a bite you perked up. “Crowe, they taste amazing, did you change the recipe up?”

The pancakes were fluffy and sweet, even sweeter than usually. “Just a tad bit. I know that you have kind of a sweet tooth, so I added a bit more sugar.”

You weren't sure what was sweeter, your boyfriend or the sugar he added.

He was probably sweeter, even though he didn't have much of a sweet tooth himself. That brought up another question, however.

“What about you though? You aren't that fond of too much sugar.”

“I can handle a bit more sweetness in my pancakes. After all, I handle you everyday and you are by far sweeter than any pancake I could ever make.”

You had to suppress a grin at that. He could be so cheesy sometimes.

Time seemed to pass way too fast, it felt like the two of you finished breakfast in no time.

“I'll clean up, you can get ready in the meantime, Darling” Crowe took his and your plate and brought them to the kitchen sink. Thanking him, you stood up and you made your way to your shared bedroom to get dressed. You took a look out the window, snow was painting the world in a pure, innocent shade of white and created a calm, serene image. Perhaps Crowe and you can build a snowman later if you have enough time.

Walking up to the closet, you were pondering on what to wear. Crowe was wearing a purple sweater and black slacks, perhaps you could put on a matching outfit. After all, he loved when the two of you wore matching outfits.

You took a pair of black pants out of your closet, before looking for a purple sweater. You had one, albeit the color being a bit lighter, it would have to do.

The colors purple and blue had a special spot in your heart, every time you saw them, you were reminded of Crowe.

He was everywhere, his essence in everything.

The night sky, the ocean, the flowers in your garden during the warmer seasons and the bouquet he gave you this morning, even in your closet you found these colors more present than before.

You walked into the narrow hallway, painted dark red with a birch wood floor, to see Crowe was already putting on his shoes, sitting on the bench near the door. As soon as he was finished and laid eyes on you, he couldn't help but chuckle. “I feel like I have seen that outfit before somewhere…” He walked up to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you to his chest. “I love you so much, you know that?” He leant down to press a kiss to your forehead, before wrapping both arms around you in a loving embrace. “I love you too, Jericho… More than words can ever describe…”

Crowe pulled back to look at you and raised his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking over the soft skin. Before you met him, you didn't know that it was humanly possible to look at someone the way he looked at you, but he proved to you that it indeed was possible and even if it wasn't, he would make it possible.

His bright blue eyes were filled with so much love, you couldn't begin to comprehend just how much love he felt for you.

Your face was gently pulled closer to his by the hand holding your cheek, his own face moving closer at the same time, before your lips met in a sweet kiss. It was an attempt at expressing your feelings for each other, but this universal act of love could only scratch the surface of what truly laid beneath your exteriors. Beneath all that skin, bone and flesh laid a love so profound, it almost made your hearts burst.

Crowe pulled back eventually, but you didn't leave his embrace without him planting another kiss on your forehead. He turned to take your black coat off the hanger and helped you put it on in his usual gentleman-like fashion. While he was looking for something in the hallway's dresser you were putting on your boots. The coat you were currently wearing matched his perfectly well, only your boots weren't matching - his being dark brown and yours being black - but you weren't going to nit-pick every small detail. Crowe stood in front of you again, a purple scarf in his hands. “It's cold outside, my Love, you'll need this.” His voice was as soft and caring as always, while he gently wrapped the scarf around your neck.

Opening the front door, Crowe gestured for you to walk outside before him. He followed close behind, taking your hand in his as he left the house with you and closed the door behind him. As you made your way towards the shopping center, the snow crunched under your boots, accentuating every step.

Despite the thick clothes you were wearing, which engulfed you in a comfortable warmth, the cool december breeze made you shiver. The coldness was slowly biting away at your skin and you tried your best to bury your face in your scarf, though it didn’t help with warming your face as much as you had hoped. Crowe squeezed your hand at this, trying to reassure you. “Don't worry, my Love, we'll be there in no time.”

The walk to the shopping center was peaceful, you walked by multiple groups of children who were building a snowman or having snowball fights. Looking around, you found everything to be covered in thick, white snow, giving the usually dull surroundings an almost magical feeling. It might be cold right now, but at least it was beautiful outside.

The mall wasn’t too far either, luckily. In this type of weather it was going to take around fifteen minutes to reach it, which felt like fifteen seconds in Crowe’s presence. That was one of the many things you loved about him. Any task, any situation, no matter how daunting or boring they may be, they seemed way easier to conquer with Crowe by your side.

The mall was bustling with life, chatter and laughter everywhere. Christmas tunes played from every corner and matching decorations were hung up everywhere. However, the highlight was the 30 feet tall christmas tree in the middle of the mall, cladded with different types of ornaments, ranging from fairy lights and tinsel to brightly colored baubles and little angels hanging from the branches.

“Whose present should we get first?”

You pondered for a moment at Crowe's question, “Jess. I already have something for her.”

Crowe quirked his eyebrow at that. “Lead the way then.”

You tugged Crowe along with you, leading him to a record store. “You know how Jess is absolutely obsessed with Eries, right?”, You looked up at him, feeling a little silly for asking this as you realized that he obviously knows, since he was the one who told you that information in the first place, “Of course you do…Anyways, I was thinking about getting her a vinyl record.”

“Does she even have a record player?”

You shook your head, “Nope, but knowing her, she wouldn’t play the record anyways, however, she would hang it up on the wall for everyone to see, just like her other prized possessions.”

“Are you sure she doesn’t have it already though? She’s one of his biggest fans after all, I kind of doubt that she doesn’t have all his merchandise by now.” Crowe’s question was a valid one, you haven’t told him that piece of information yet, since it was more of an impulsive decision. “I know that she doesn’t have it, she told me herself. See, we were talking about this special edition record of Eries newest album coming out and when the presale was happening, she didn’t manage to get a copy. I, however, did.”

Crowe furrowed his eyebrows at your explanation, still not getting the full picture, “Why did you try to obtain a copy in the first place? As far as I know, you’re not one of his fangirls.”

“Well, I thought it would make a nice present if she didn’t manage to get a copy. And if she had managed to get a copy I would have given it to another friend of mine, who likes Eries as well, but isn’t big enough of a fan to buy limited edition stuff.”

“You had a full-on masterplan, huh?”

You nodded eagerly at his reply, “All that’s left to do is to pick up the copy from the record shop.”

Tugging your boyfriend through the crowd, you weasel your way towards the record store. As soon as you arrived you were met with seemingly endless rows of shelves, packed to the brim with colorful records and the speakers faintly playing a Christmas song.

“By the way, how much was that record?”

You gave Crowe a side-eye, before averting your gaze as you walked towards the register. “Way too much…”, you muttered under your breath before clearing your throat. “But Jess is an amazing friend…I’m sure she’ll love this present!”

Crowe shook his head in disbelief with an airy laugh, “I’m sure she will, but I would still like to know how much that record was, you know? After all, we did agree on splitting the costs for the presents in half.”

You mumbled a response under your breath, incoherent to Crowe’s ears. When he asked again, your response was still quiet, but he heard your answer at last, “Sixty-five bucks…”

Crowe’s bright blue eyes widened a little in surprise, which is why you decided to quickly reassure him, “I know it’s a lot, that’s why the record will be on me, you don’t have to pay half the price-”

“Nonsense, I’ll pay half the price, just like we agreed, don’t worry about it, my Love” He cut you off, holding his hand up in the air to stop your rambling. You gave him a soft smile, your face a little flushed as you muttered a small “Thank you”, fully aware that debating with him on this matter will get you nowhere.

After informing the employee at the register about the order you wanted to pick up, he went to the back and swiftly returned with it, handing the record to you with a sweet smile.

Crowe wrapped his arm around your waist, an innocent gesture, though a hint of jealousy laced it. You were his partner after all, he should -and would- let the whole world know how lucky he got, even if this poor employee probably didn’t have any ulterior motives behind his smile and wave good-bye.

“How about we get Brittney’s present next?” Crowe asked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as the two of you made your way out of the record store. You nodded, thinking back to all the times Brit told you something related to her interests.

“Do you already have something in mind?”, Crowe asked as he scanned your contemplating expression. You slowly nodded, “Yeah… she mentioned something about this skin care set she thought about getting. It’s a bit pricey, though…”

Crowe smiled softly at you, letting go of your hand and stroking the back of your head softly. “Don’t worry about it, my Love. If something is out of your budget I don’t mind paying more than half the price or entirely for the present.”

Your head snapped towards him as you immediately protested, “No way in hell am I gonna let you pay for everything yourself, that wouldn’t be fair at all!”

Your boyfriend could only chuckle in response, shaking his head lightly, “Whatever you say, Love…”

The two of you made your way towards the mall’s beauty store, Crowe’s hand tightly holding your own, almost as if he was afraid you would be swept away by the crowd of people present. It didn’t take long for you to find the skin care set Brittney told you about, despite the shelves being lined with all kinds of beauty products, ranging from perfume to high-end makeup products. Albeit the fairly high price the set was almost sold out and you barely managed to grab one of the last boxes.

The store was filled to the brim with teenage girls and husbands with their wives, all of them trying to find last minute presents for their loved ones. Thus, Crowe and you had to wait quite some time at the register, however, time always seemed to pass in the blink of an eye whenever he was with you.

“By the way, what should we get Deryl?”

You looked up at Crowe, waiting for a response as he pondered for a moment.

“Well, he loves football and sweets… though I believe you know as much about football as I do, which is practically nothing at all.”, Crowe chuckled slightly and of course he was right, both of you barely had any knowledge about football.

“Then sweets it is, we just have to hope that he eats them in private and not at the party, unless we want him bouncing off the walls-” You cut yourself off with a gasp as an idea hit you, “How about one of these international sweets boxes? As far as I know there is a shop here which sells sweets from all around the world. I believe that would make a great present for Deryl!”

Your boyfriend smiled gently at you as he responded, “Great thinking, let’s go there once we’re finished here.”

Crowe and you checked out at the register and made your way towards the sweets store shortly after.

The sweets store was probably the most colorful shop in the entire shopping center, the walls were painted in bright colors and even the tiles on the floor were practically glowing in neon hues. The shelves were lined with all kinds of sweets, all of them wrapped in bright packaging and sorted into different aisles depending on which country they’re from.

“Is there anything specific Deryl likes?” Crowe shook his head in response, thus you took it upon yourself to search for tasty-looking sweets, hooking a shopping basket on your arm.

You were able to fill the basket in no time with all different types of sweets; savory ones, sour ones and just classical sweet ones.

“Those are quite a lot of sweets… it might be better to give him this when we are about to leave…”

You raised an eyebrow at Crowe’s suggestion, “And leave the others with the mess of a Deryl who is high on sugar?”

He smirked smugly at you in reply and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.

The two of you wrapped up at the sweets store not long after, walking out with two shopping bags in your right hand, one containing Brittney’s and one Jess’ present, and a big box of sweets for Deryl tucked away under Crowe’s left arm.

“We still need to get a present for Geo, do you have any idea what we could get him? It’s not like that guy is an open book when it comes to anything regarding him personally…”

“I already have something in mind for Geo, don’t worry.”

Your eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise at Crowe’s declaration.

“Follow me.”, He took your free hand in his, making his way through the crowd and leading you to the mall’s exit.

Curious as to where Crowe was taking you, you couldn’t help but ask him, “Where are we going, Crowe?”

“To the box office, it’s on the way home anyways.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at his response, but decided not to dwell on it. You would see what Crowe is up to soon enough, since the box office was pretty close to the mall.

As you left the shopping center, the coldness engulfed you in an icy embrace, stinging at your flesh. You immediately missed the comforting warmth of the shopping center, even if the atmosphere was chaotic. The only source of warmth you now had were your thick clothes and the warmth of your boyfriend’s soft hand, but all this didn’t do much to keep you from shivering.

After what felt like an eternity out in the harsh coldness of December, you finally reached the box office.

Crowe leant a little towards the cashier as he spoke his request, “I’d like to buy a gift voucher for 75 dollars, please.”

You lifted your eyebrows up slightly, before nudging him softly with your elbow while the employee was preparing the voucher. “I would have thought that you were gonna give him a present that’s more… personal.” Crowe looked at you for a moment, processing your words.

“Well, he’s not the type to be against vouchers as a gift, in fact, he thinks it’s the best type of present to give to someone; if it’s required to give them something, that is.”

“I guess that makes sense for him… he doesn’t seem like the type to give others personalized presents… or any at all, to be honest…”

Crowe couldn’t help but chuckle at your reply, “Yeah, he finds it to be the most practical type of present and I am not going to disagree with him on that, I get where he’s coming from.”

You nodded in silent agreement as the employee finished wrapping up the voucher, handing it to Crowe, who gave him the required amount of cash in exchange, before bidding goodbye and putting the envelope containing the voucher into one of the bags you were carrying.

“What time is it?”

Crowe took a look at the watch on his wrist, “1 pm. The party starts at 4.30, therefore we still have some time to get everything ready.”

Your boyfriend gave your hand a small squeeze and smiled warmly at you. This was almost enough to make you forget about the crisp cold air surrounding you, emphasis on almost. You were walking at a faster pace than usually, desperate to get home as quickly as possible.

Luckily, you soon saw the row houses on your street, one of them being the one you and Crowe resided in. The two of you moved in together after a year of dating, deeming it safer for the both of you - well, mostly for you. He insisted that you move into the townhouse he rented with him, considering it a safer option than the apartment you previously called your home. Of course, he was right, this part of town was much safer and if something were to happen, he would be there to protect you.

The houses were made of brownstone and not much bigger than your old apartment, though it was still nice to have a bit more space available, not to mention the tiny garden at the back - something your previous home lacked entirely.

Speed-walking towards the dark green front door, you ushered Crowe to unlock the door, who chuckled in response to your antics. What may have been annoying to anyone else, he found endearing. To him, you could hardly do any wrong, you were perfect, perfect for him.

You were greeted by the familiar smell of your home and the comforting warmth it provided. Taking off your boots and coat you turned to face Crowe, “Ready to bake some cookies?”

The kitchen was small, but it was big enough for the two of you. The counter, made of ebony and an oak countertop, formed a U-shape, lining all walls except for the one with the door. A big window overlooking the garden was above the kitchen sink and opposite of the door. Some potted plants hung from the ceiling, giving the room a rural feeling.

You walked to the kitchen cabinet and whipped out every required ingredient and equipment.

“Did you decide on which type of cookies we are baking?” Crowe entered the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, revealing his toned lower arms.

“I was thinking we could bake some good old chocolate chip cookies, how does that sound?”

Crowe cracked a grin at that. Chocolate chips were his favourite and you knew that all too well.

“I’m definitely not opposed to that suggestion.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him, “Of course you are not.”

You ordered Crowe to weigh the ingredients while you took care of mixing everything, the dough soon being finished. The moment you turned your back to grab a scissor for the package of chocolate chunks, Crowe grabbed a spoon from the kitchen drawer and tried some of the cookie dough.

“No snacking on the cookie dough, Crowe.”, you turned around to find your boyfriend frowning at you, causing a little laugh of yours to break free.

“Mind you, I was taste-testing.”

You shook your head at his answer, but at the same time you were endeared. Crowe was usually this composed, mature gentleman, but around you he could unleash a more childish side of him, one he didn’t show anyone else. Coming from him, this was a huge sign of trust, a privilege he didn't grant just anyone.

Right after you mixed the chocolate chunks into the cookie dough, you took small scoops and placed them onto the tray Crowe got ready for you. Once you were finished with placing small piles of dough, your boyfriend took the tray from you and put it in the oven.

“Now that the cookies are in the oven, what should we do in the meantime? Wrap the presents?” Crowe asked while wiping the surface of the countertop with a wet cloth. You pondered for a moment, recalling the children you saw on your way to the mall and pointed towards the window overlooking the garden

“I have a better idea… See all that snow? How about we build a snowman?”

Looking at him, your eyes glistened with hope and he smiled brightly at you, an indescribable amount of love in his gaze.

You definitely were perfect for him.

“Of course we can, Love, but weren’t you the one freezing outside earlier today?”

He just couldn’t help but tease you a little every now and then.

“That was different. I can handle the coldness if it means I get to feel like a kid again.”, you argued, a lop-sided smile gracing your features.

“Touché.”

With a pep in your step you went back into the hallway to grab both of your boots and coats, along with a pair of gloves for each of you. You swiftly returned to the kitchen and walked through the doorway into the living room, straight towards the back door, handing Crowe his clothes, before putting on your own coat and boots.

No five minutes later were the two of you out in the freezing cold. You already got to work, making a little snowball and rolling it around on the ground, your gloves doing very little to keep the snow’s iciness away from your skin, though you couldn’t care less right now.

The garden was small, surrounded by high bushes, which were painted white by the snow just like the ground was. The big apple tree at the very back already lost all its leaves weeks ago and the flowers you usually kept were long gone.

Crowe joined you, rolling his own snowball on the ground and turning to you for a moment, “I take it that you want to be in charge of the big snowball at the bottom?”

Looking over at him with a smile you nod eagerly, earning you his warm signature smile in return.

The two of you kept rolling the snowballs around, which were getting bigger and bigger by the minute, until they finally had a size you were satisfied with. Crowe placed his slightly smaller snowball on your bigger one, going off to find some sticks to use as arms right after while you were busy making the head. Once you were finished and placed the third and smallest snowball on top of the other two, Crowe returned with some sticks and a couple of small rocks.

Handing you the two biggest sticks, you took them and placed one on either side of the snowmans upper body and some smaller branches on the top of his head. You took three small stones out of Crowe’s palm and placed them in a vertical row on the snowman's upper body.

“By the way, do we have a carrot laying around?”

“I think so… let me take a look.” Crowe handed you the rocks and turned around, walking back inside. In the meantime, you took two rocks and placed them where you thought the snowman's eyes might be and used the leftover stones to give the snowman a smile. Crowe eventually returned, a carrot in his hand. “There you go, finish the job.”

You side-eyed him, processing his words, “You’re saying this as if I’m assassinating this poor snowman…”

Your boyfriend chuckled in response as you added the final detail to your snowman.

Suddenly, an alarm went off.

“Ah! The cookies are ready. Just in time…” Crowe turned off the alarm on his phone and took your hand in his as the two of you made your way back inside.

Once back in the kitchen, the two of you took off your boots, coats and gloves. Crowe took out the tray with cookies while you carried the clothes back into the hallway, hanging the coats back on their hangers, placing the boots on the mat next to the front door and the gloves back into the dresser.

The smell of fresh cookies invaded your nostrils and you could feel your mouth watering, causing you to swiftly return to the kitchen.

“It smells so good in here!” You entered the kitchen, causing Crowe to turn away from you quickly, making you stop in your tracks, “Wait… are you eating one of the cookies?”

“...No…” Crowe was trying his best to not sound like he was talking with a full mouth, but failed miserably.

“You are!” You could hear Crowe swallowing before turning back to face you, trying to defend himself, “I had to do a taste test…”

You take one cookie from the tray, studying it a little. Judging by the looks of it, those cookies turned out amazing.

“Firstly, you already did one with the raw cookie dough and secondly, I highly doubt that one was necessary…Though, I might do one as well. You know, two tongues can taste more than one, or something like that.” Putting the cookie in your mouth, you can almost hear your taste buds singing Hallelujah, your eyes widening as you let the warm, sweet taste of chocolate chip melt on your tongue.

“Oh my…these cookies are perfect!”

Crowe nodded in agreement with a grin on his face as he watched your fond expression, before looking at his watch, “It’s 2.20 pm, we have about two hours until the party, any ideas what should we do until then?”

You thought for a moment before a smug smirk crawled onto your face.

“Don’t tell me-”

You cut off your boyfriend, “Let’s watch a Christmas movie!”

“We still need to wrap the presents, my Love” , Crowe pointed out, but you quickly shot down his argument.

“We can do that while watching the movie. It’s not like we have tons of presents to wrap anyways.”

Crowe sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, though more in a playful fashion, before nodding slowly.

“Alright, let’s watch a Christmas movie then.”

You immediately made your way towards the living room, the walls were painted a light blue shade and lined with tons of shelves, the floor was birch wood, just like the hallway. Sitting down on the soft, dark blue couch and grabbing the remote, you made yourself comfortable, nuzzling against one of the couch’s cushions. While you were busy picking out a movie, Crowe grabbed some wrapping paper, as well as the presents for your friends, and carried them towards the living room, setting everything down on the oak coffee table in front of the couch.

He sat down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer as you put on your favorite christmas movie. You shuffled closer to him, basking in the warmth Crowe radiated, not just emotionally but also physically. No matter how tough times might get, next to him any problem ceased to exist, if only for the moment and you could swear your love for him was growing more and more the longer you were together.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you couldn’t help but feel giddy for tonight, looking forward to spending time with all the people who grew on you so much during your years at university.

Were you to look out the window, you’d catch the snowman smiling at you, the snow which was currently falling from the sky accumulating on his carrot nose.

Everything was perfect, you were exactly where you were always meant to be and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

[nemesis-writer]

Alphabet Boy

Masterlist

Always aiming paper airplanes at me when you're around You build me up like building blocks just so you can bring me down You can crush my candy cane, but you'll never catch me cry If you dangle that diploma and I dead you, don't be surprised

Damian was never as special as he thought he was. He had his errors, and you had yours. But yet your errors were considered as a tarnish to the Wayne family. You're always better than him, yet your talents were always considered as beneath him.

Your pain was even worse than him, yet you didn't complain, and you didn't shed a tear. All of your talents were God-given, and you never had to practice since it was so perfect.

But, if you're so perfect why won't they look at you?

I know my ABCs, yet you keep teaching me I say fuck your degree, alphabet boy You think you're smarter than me with all your bad poetry Fuck all your ABCs, alphabet boy

You were the first to learn gymnastics, all the martial arts training to defend oneself, cooking, hacking, and more. But yet you always seemed so useless, so weak.

You grew up in the streets till you were 12, and had learned their language, their style, and how they were able to get money. But with all these self-taught talents, no one would give you the satisfaction of looking at you.

The only talents that truly helped you are, pickpocketing, hacking, and killing. You learned all of them from the streets and from training at school. You could've been the best vigilante for the city, you could even be more talented than Robin Hood.

I'm not a little kid now, watch me get big now Spell my name on a fridge now with all your alphabet toys You won the spelling bee now, but are you smarter than me now? You're the prince of the playground, little alphabet boy

You didn't get what you deserve, because of that thing. Since no one gave you your reward, you'll take it yourself. You never needed their help for a long time. Everything you did was for yourself and for murder.

You were never envious of them, since your talents were considered as an era-defining genius, but yet you remained untouched and unloved.

Apples aren't always appropriate apologies Butterscotch and bubblegum drops are bittersweet to me You call me a child while you keep counting all your coins But you're not my daddy and I'm not your dolly And your dictionary's destroyed

No one can hear your cries, no one can see your tear-shedded eyes, no one can see your fragile body filled with scars and demons of your past.

You remained haunted by the memory of your late parents wishing you could join their utopia. But no, no one would grant that wish, not a genie in a lamp, not a fortune cookie, not even the Joker could grant you that quiet satisfaction.

So you did the last thing that seemed so erratic for a person in your position...

You fled

Alphabet boy, oh, alphabet boy Alphabet boy Alphabet boy, my alphabet boy Ooh

You've become a villain of every story, you've become an urban legend that everyone feared. You've become top of the ladder of criminals, criminals and heroes alike have been searching for you. So much, that the Joker fears you and plans to eliminate you.

The Bats have been expecting your demise without even knowing what you really were, and what you became. You're known in the underworld as, 'Eurus', because it described the unlucky east wind, and that''s what you were.

Unlucky.

"Eurus! That's enough, no where to run."

"Cmon' bats you can't kill me even if you wanted to."

"We can and we will."

*cackles*

"Still righteous as usual Robin, or should I say,

'Richard'."

"Who are you?"

"Your demise."

"We know who you are", Damian

"You don't know shit. Damian."

"How do you know our names?", Jason asked.

"Because unlike you I made an effort to know Mr Wayne, or should I say. Dad."

"Y/N?"

You took of your mask and they were shocked.

It was their child.

I'm not a little kid now, watch me get big now Spell my name on a fridge now with all your alphabet toys You won the spelling bee now, but are you smarter than me now? You're the prince of the playground, little alphabet boy

A/N: I kinda rushed in this fic, but I hope you like it!

Taglist

@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194,@thesehandsarerated-e, @eyeless-kun, @errorunfound1, @gwyneveire

[tarotchariotpickyourcard]

PAC: What your co-workers think about you

Just a little reading if you're curious. I've been curious. Just don't go too deep, you're there to further yourself and earn the moolah after all.

Please choose from left to right, 1 - 2 - 3.

1 is fortune, 2 is a shell, 3 is bell.

Hope you enjoy and don't take it too serious.

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GROUP 1

Your fortune cookie paper says You will be fortunate in everything you put your hands to. 

2 of wands - The Magician (rev) - The high priestess - The wheel reversed - transmutation and cheer-fullness.

Ok so 2 of wands is a nice starter card for impressions. As a colleague this can show a skillset that includes good foresight, and planning. Starting off I could assume you’re seen as someone who likes to plan and is more organised than others. This is collaborative energy. I feel like maybe you’re taken on better by masculine people in the workplace. I get the idea people have been relieved last minute that oh, yeah, pile one actually prepared for x y or z, that’s lucky.

The magician reversed in this tarot deck always makes me think of someone who is more tricky with their words. This can be great in some situations, for example if you’re trying to sell something. You can navigate conversations for a set goal. However, in a more negative light this might mean that some coworkers could think you’re on the manipulative side in your interactions with them. Some may worry they can’t trust you. Whether this is valid or not is up to you. Sometimes we do say little things that maybe we know we shouldn’t, for example, saying something in passing about another coworker. Sometimes we gossip.

The high priestess as how you’re seen professionally makes me think you seem to have a magic touch. It’s like if a computer isn’t working, but you try and work it and all of a sudden it’s fine. I think maybe sometimes you can make someone feel silly because all of a sudden there’s no problem lol.

Wheel of fortune makes me think of timing, and after high priestess it makes me think they aren’t sure what you do when they don’t see you. It could be a curiosity about your personal life, maybe you don’t divulge very much about how you spend you time. It could be that you seem to have this magic touch or always be prepared, but it’s out of nowhere or they don’t understand how you got skilled somehow, because they haven’t seen you spend time on learning more for example. It could be like, well, how do you know that when our manager hasn’t taught us x y z. So you could be secretly self taught or seen as having a natural talent.

Cheerfulness: “I embrace a state of cheerfulness, even on days when I don’t wake up feeling that way. Knowing that moods are contagious, I’d rather not cause an outbreak of crankiness and complaints. Instead, I’ll strive to be the patient zero of joy amd laughter.”

Transmutation: “I have the ability to transmute negative feelings into positive ones, and I exercise it at will. The next time someone frustrates me/annoys me/eats tuna too close to me, I will lean towards kindness and acceptance rather than stabbyness and loathing.”

Put all together, I think your coworkers generally get along with you, especially those who identify as male. I think some wonder how you manage some things, because you are capable. All of a sudden you just seem to pull something when they need it, like magic. Like in a show: here’s one I prepared earlier. Lol.

The career affirmation cards together tell me you try your best to be pleasant and not be negative about everything all the time. (there are people out there who are true negative nancy’s and it really does make everything a drag) So I think your coworkers appreciate that you try and turn the mood around. Also, there might be a coworker that is negative or gossip-y that might have been trying to drag you into conversations to strengthen their narrative, or to join in. Don’t let people bring you in. But yeah, overall good energy, nothing nasty really.

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GROUP 2

Consideration - 9 of cups - 8 of coins -  Queen of swords reversed - 3 of wands

Consideration: “I’m a considerate person, and my new goal is radical conscientiousness. From now on, I’ll leave every space tidier than I found it; I’ll find small ways to support a team mate even if they didn’t ask for it; I will eat leftover pumpernickel bagels even though I didn’t order it.”

We have a sweetheart hereeeee. Hahaha, With a secret cutting tongue. You can make the occasional comment and I find it funny. You might have been interpreted as judgemental of someone else's work, you might not have found something up to standard. You could be seen as very clean or tidy.

Your coworkers overall see you as a really well meaning, well intentioned colleague. You’re definitely there to achieve the goals of the team or business. You mean it when you go into work, you go in there and you don’t intend to mess about or slack.

 With queen of swords rev though, it does make me think someone in your workplace views you as mean, and I feel like this could be more of a misunderstanding. Because most of your coworkers here see you as considerate, helpful, wanting the best, not particularly nasty.

8 of coins signifies being seen as a hard worker, honing whatever your job skillset is. So you always are practicing becoming better. Not someone who sits on their laurels and assumes they’re set. It could also mean you’re seen as someone more advanced by most. So more experienced or knowledgable.

It’s really weird, I’m getting two meanings for queen of swords reversed and 3 of wands… Both may apply, or just one. The first one is that you may have a silver tongued coworker who tries to downplay your experience or make you appear less skilled. So instead of the experienced worker you are, they try to make you look like you still have more to learn. The language may be about the ability to plan. The other meaning is that you might make newer people feel like you are unapproachable for whatever reason. You might intimidate newer people. They may take time to understand your real intentions (being helpful and part of a team)

9 of cups makes me think that goals are what you’re focussed on. You appear that you have endgame in sight, you’re there to accomplish something and you’re not letting things get in your way. If you need to finish that project or task, you’re not wasting your time chatting.

That’s what I see right now, hope you enjoyed.

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GROUP 3

Justice - 9 of coins - 2 of cups - ace of cups reversed - risks

A fair and pleasant person who can get along with most. Even if you’re introverted, your interactions leave a good impression.

I’ll get a first impression out of the way. Did someone here take a risk and date/see someone in the workplace? People will be noticing/talking about that.

Or something may have gone wrong with a friendship with a colleague or what was a nice work connection and you may have withdrawn.

Those are just 2 possibilities.

It’s a really weird energy all together to read for me, because…Oh, there are big differing views. That must be why. I think of the groups, this is the least streamlined. One or more may think you’re too impulsive or risky, but some might actually think you take positive and calculated risks. It’s like maybe there’s quite a mish mash of characters that see things very differently. Maybe you work with different people on different days, or go around for clients.

More traditional thinkers might think your ambition goes too far, and why are you not happy with what you have. More adventurous people might think you go, do the thing.

I see the perspective that you kind of shrug your shoulders, so you don’t seem to care as much about things as they do. Like you’re more confident or happy on your own, to do your own thing, to pitch that new idea, you don’t care, you’ll do it. It’s a risk you’d be willing to take. 

You may not feel confident, but honestly I think you look confident. 9 of coins with justice just gives me nonchalant energy where you seem to feel secure and know things will work out.

This combination tells me you wouldn’t mind moving workplaces, this could be a stepping stone for you, or you could know if need be you can jump ship.

Risks says “I take big risks and leap into the unknown with fearless abandon, knowing that the best surprises and richest experiences come from bold choices.”

So maybe this is something pretty new to you, or you’re bringing new ideas to how things can be done.

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Hope you enjoyed, byeeee

[bwabys-scenarios]

🎄Christmas Season with JJK Men🎄

🎁!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!🎁

characters: Gojo, Choso, Nanami

⚠️warning: suggestive in Gojo’s, smut in Choso’s and Nanami’s, you’re pregnant in Gojo’s and Nanami’s⚠️

A/N: If this does well, I’ll do a part 2 with more characters!! I have only watched the first season of the anime, and it was a while ago so please be nice!! I might not know the characters too well, but I’m trying my best to give y’all content!!

NSFW JJK taglist: @iluvies @zeniiis @highbats69

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

Gojo

He throws a Secret Santa for his students a few days before Christmas, and as his wife you attend. It’s the first Christmas you’ve been married and your first time meeting his students, so they all(besides Megumi, who attended the wedding and loves you to death) nearly die of shock.

“Are you being paid for this? Like a girlfriend for rent?” Nobara asks, looking you up and down then glancing at her mentor.

“Oh you wound me!”

Gojo holds you in his arms, his hand moving to your tummy. “And I was so excited to introduce you all to my lovely wife and child!”

“CHILD!?”

You smack his head. “Satoru! We were supposed to keep that a secret!”

Nobara and Itadori accept you as his wife when they watch you scold him as if he were a disobedient child.

The Secret Santa was fun, ending with a Christmas movie and cookies. The three teens wished you a marry Christmas before telling their mentor how lucky he was.

“I am pretty lucky, aren’t I?”

He kissed the top of your head, leading you to the car by your hand. “My sweet girl deserves nothing but the best, I know that too well.”

You’re treated to hot coco and a nice warm bath when you get home. Your husband offered to sing you Christmas songs as you bathed, but you (fortunately) declined. He could be a bit clingy during the holidays.

The night ends with soft lovemaking, gentle kisses, and another Christmas movie. He’s so excited to spend your first Christmas married together, and who can blame him!

Choso

He likes to celebrate Christmas with family, so once you’re together he INSISTS on accompanying you to your family’s annual Christmas party. You need to teach him about a few traditions and social cues, but besides that he’s pretty good around your family.

He helps put up decorations, gets along with your little cousins, and he even brings Itadori along with him. Choso is a family man, he really enjoys being surrounded by people who care.

As soon as the two of you are alone, it doesn’t matter if you’re staying over with your parents or not, he’s got his hand in your panties, trying to get you off. You’re his princess, and he heard that you’re supposed to give people presents for Christmas, Choso just wants to make you feel loved and special!

He just loves you cockwarming him while you watch Christmas movies together, keeping his hands on the fat of your hips, gently kneading.

“Mm… merry Christmas, princess… so pretty, fuck…”

It goes from this to him talking to your parents about how happy he is to be invited 30 minutes later. You’re just trying to ignore the feeling of his cum pooling down your legs, thankful you wore baggy sweatpants.

He learns most of his knowledge on Christmas from movies, so he’s determined to kiss you under the mistletoe. He stood under it for nearly an hour, waiting for you to finish talking to your family.

You find him standing there, pouting like an abandoned puppy.

“You’re so silly, Choso. You could have just asked for a kiss.”

The two of you share a soft kiss. He holds back any groping or tongue because his brother is there, but once you’re behind closed doors… RIP your coochie.

Nanami

Unlike the other characters on this list, Nanami much prefers spending a quiet Christmas alone with you. He’ll visit your family before Christmas, but Christmas Day is for you and him alone.

He wakes you up with breakfast in bed. Nanami’s love language is acts of service and words of affirmation. He spends the morning with you in his lap, feeding you breakfast as he tells you just how grateful he is to have you in his life, especially during Christmas.

Honestly, I feel like Nanami may have a bit of seasonal depression, and you’re the reason he’s able to really enjoy the holiday.

Nanami likes to surprise you with your gifts by pretending Santa is the one that brought them. He leaves you in bed at 3 am to arrange your gifts, and you playful pretend to be surprised. You’re both adults and he knows you’re just going along with it, but it’s just some innocent fun that makes him enjoy the season. He’d honestly be a great father, and now you want a family with him even more.

Since you usually make meals for the two of you, he took over the duty of Christmas dinner. Once it’s lunch time, he serves you a plate of your favorite Christmas foods. He spends the entire day thoroughly spoiling you.

The two of you stay in pajamas, lazily snacking and watching Christmas movies while snuggling on the couch. It’s moments like these that make him feel alive and content.

At night, you have sleepy, snuggly sex. He keeps you close to him, thrusting in and out while holding onto your hand. “My darling… I’m so, so happy… this day couldn’t have been better…”

You hope your Christmas present for him, a positive pregnancy test, will make him even more happy when you show him in the morning. Unfortunately, you are much too sleepy and comfortable with his cock nestled inside of you to get it at that moment.

But when you show him in the early morning, he cries tears of joy.

“This is perfect… my sweet angels…”

[yan-lorkai]

Hello, Lorkai! I have a silly idea that I've wanted to request for a while.

So, Yandere Housewardens (I’m not sure which boys to choose) want to kidnap the male Darling, but they always fail because of the Darling’s unique magic. (He doesn’t know that the boys want to kidnap him.)

I was thinking about his magic being a fortune cookie that magically appears every morning, giving him useful advice or something he should do that day. It would be something normal like 'Don’t forget to bring an umbrella' or 'The mango will be really sweet today. You should eat them.' So, it’s never harmful and always useful, which is why he always follows the cookie’s advice.

For example, imagine Vil puts a sleeping potion in a smoothie so he can kidnap him, but when he offers it to Darling, Darling politely refuses because the cookie says he should drink only water that day.

Or, Idia invites Darling to play video games in his room all night so he can finally kidnap him, but Darling refuses because the cookie says he shouldn’t stay up late that day.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: Plss-- I'm just imagining the yandere having a breakdown bcs you, without knowing, keeps escaping any of their attempts lmao. Also i wrote this for Kalim bcs I don't write for him enough, and i love him, my sweet baby 🥺

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Kalim, sweet Kalim, loves to invite you to various parties and rides on his flying carpet. Still, these past few days have been frustrating as you've declined all of his invitations in favor of spending time at the library or botanical gardens. Kalim has been behaving well and being patient, displaying the same gentle smile that always appears on his lips. Even if you don't know it, even his patience has a limit.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ If he can't bring you to him, Kalim will come to you. From trying to get your attention to sitting at your table uninvited, he tries every way to convince you to come to Scarabia to spend time with him. He even make his best puppy eyes that can melt Jamil’s hard resolve and plead for you to accompany him.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ It can be a bit suffocating, especially if you're avoiding him or something, as Kalim simply isn't able to notice (or he ignores) such signs. In one of those convenient moments when he's bothering you, he notices you reading a paper and curiously asks you about it. And, it's not like you're keeping your Unique Magic a secret, so you tell him how a fortune cookie materializes in front of you every morning with advice for the day.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Kalim hates this. He hates that you seem to enjoy your Unique Magic. He hates that a mere cookie has delayed his plan, but he may rethink and consider the possibilities now that he knows about such an ability you possess. Soon, not even a fortune cookie can save you from your near future. He will make sure of that.

[ashtheketchum]

●Old times●

Daryl Dixon X fem.Reader

Era: Alexandria (S5)

Summary: The group came to Alexandria and everyone is looking to find a "job" to help this small town. Daryl is very suspicious of this city, but when he sees his neighbor, he no longer wastes any thought about this city.

Warnings: +18 CONTENT, FEM.Reader, unprotected sex, virgin Daryl, virgin Reader, missionary, mention of sickness, mention of violence, angst

Words: 5,4k

Masterlist!

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PoV (Y/N):

Deanna had told us that Aaron had found Rick's group. Alexandria had heard a lot of this Rick and Deanna absolutely wanted this group with us. To be honest, I had a strange feeling that this group would come to us, but then I felt a little fear in me when I learned that this group would sleep next to my house. But I forced myself to smile so that I wouldn't look rude. I was not rude, I was just careful, everything was possible in this world.

When Deanna made a welcome party, I forced myself there for a few minutes because Nicholas had invited me. Everyone was known to everyone, including me. He wanted to talk to me all the time, told me about his runs outside of the walls, and he always invited me to eat. I had nothing against Nicholas, he was nice, polite and also respected my limits, but I didn't wanted to be in a relationship with him. My last relationship, which was before the apocalypse started, didn't ended so well. I had loved my boyfriend at this time, but now I didn't even know if he was still alive. Deep inside I knew that he would still live, but the fear that he was one of these undead was too big.

At the welcome party I stayed on the edge most of the time, but of course Nicholas stayed with me. He kept talking to me and drank out of his glass, but I was somewhere else with my head. Whenever we got new residents, I had hopes to see my boyfriend at the time. We didn´t broke up in good terms, but I loved him. God, okay, I still love him today. "Nicholas… I think i should go home… I don´t feel good." I said softly which made him twitch. He looked at me disappointed briefly, but before he nodded and brought me to the door. "I´ll Bring You Home." Actually, I wanted to be alone, but I let it endure.

So I just nodded politely and we went out. Outside, the pleasant night air bumped into my face and the sky was already black. Fortunately, the path was not so long to my house, so we arrived very quickly and I opened my door. Smiling I turned to Nicholas again, who grinned at me but in a politely manner. "Thank you, Nicholas… have a good night." "Can´t I… come in with you?" A slight panic built up in me, but I immediately thought of an idea of ​​how I could get it to go. Immediately I hit my hand on my mouth and I gave loud choking noises from me. I quickly shook my head and I hit the door shut in front of his nose. Then I breathed deeply behind the door and I slowly sank to the ground.

Hopefully he would not come to me the next morning to ask me how I feel.

In the next morning I baked a few cookies that I had always baked cookies the apocolypse. Each of my contacts had always got these cookies and now here in Alexandria it was no different. I always baked these cookies and since I now had new neighbors, I also wanted to give them some of my cookies. Even if this group sounded terrifying, I wanted to leave a good impression, so I did so.

I had placed the freshly baked cookies on my open window so that they could cool down a little. While the cookies cooled down, I showered quickly and put on fresh clothes. As soon as my hair was dry, I put the cookies in a bowl and I went outside, to my new neighbors. However, it was already a little later, most of them were probably at Deanne and talked to her about new jobs. But I tried my luck and knocked on the door. In short it was quiet, I heard no voices and no steps. Just when I wanted to go back to my house, I heard steps that approached the door, in the next moment the door was open.

"Yah?" A rough voice replied to me. I winced briefly because I was startled, but then I looked at the strange man. He had long hair that slightly covered his blue eyes and he had broad shoulders. I stayed still, my heart stopped and my throat became completely dry. Daryl stood in front of me. Daryl Dixon.

PoV Daryl:

I looked at the woman silently, in her hands she held a bowl of cookies. She seemed to be a little frightened to see me, but when I looked into the bowl, I got a little dizzy. "Daryl…?" Whispered the woman quietly. Her voice let my heart beat faster and I swallowed hard. I thought she had died that she was one of the walkers. But she stood here, unharmed, as beautiful as always. "I-i'm sorry…" She stuttered loudly before putting the bowl on the floor and walking away. I stayed still, watched her disappear into the house next door. Then my gaze went back to the cookies.

These goddamned cookies would have made me throw up before the apocolypse, and I would´ve never thought that I would miss this cookies. But now I stood here, raised the bowl and took a cookie to bit into it. The taste came over me immediately and I grumbled quietly. "Daryl, who was here?" I heard someone ask.

I immediately turned and I looked at Carol. She was the next one going to Deanne and experiencing her new job. Her gaze went to the cookies, then back to me. Her gaze already asked me who I got the cookies from and I was afraid that I had to tell her.

PoV (Y/N):

I lay in my bed and stared at the ceiling. Daryl still lived, I just couldn't believe it. I was so incredibly very happy, but inside I was also afraid. Not from him, I was never afraid of Daryl, but of what was now between us.

<The day before the apocolypse>

I had a violent argument with Daryl. We cried out, insulted each other or broke anything. We had never argued so hard, and I couldn't even remember what we had argued about. But this was also the day when Daryl had completely shocked me. He had given me a slap in the face because I had insulted his brother and him. Somehow it was my fault, I knew that Daryl was looking up at his brother, but I was angry. It just bursted out of me. After this slap I packed my things and I disappeared.

Although it was my apartment, I grabbed my things and disappeared to my best friend. The next day everything started.

Walkers were running around, they bit everyone and spreaded their virus. I only survived because my best friend had sacrificed herself/himself. I fled to the forests in the hope of finding Daryl and seeing if he would be fine, but his house was empty. I ran around panicked until I was taken up by a small group at some point. But this group was also wiped out and I was again the only one who survived. At some point I met Aaron, who brought me to Alexandria. Since then I have lived a good life and I was able to take a deep breath. But Daryl never left my head.

<Present>

And now? Now he´s my fucking neighbour!

I stayed at home all day long. Nicholas came by briefly to bring me a warm soup because of yesterday. Somehow I was grateful to him because I really didn't feel well, but it wasn't a stomach ache. It was a dirty pressure that lived in my chest since I had Daryl in front of me again. So while I played with the soup with my spoon, I suddenly heard that it knocked on my door again. Inside, I prepared myself to be awarded by Nicholas again, but when I opened the door, Daryl stood in front of me.

He looked nervous to the ground, an squirrel in his hand. "I… Brough´ ya food…" He murmured softly and he held my squirrel. Others would have been disgusted or had declared Daryl as a crazy person, but my heart made a jump and my cheeks became red. "… Thanks…" I gently took the dead squirrel from him before I stepped a little to the side. "Do you wanna come in?" Daryl just nodded, to my question and then came in.

It was still an unpleasant silence between us, but I tried to loosen this tension a bit by cooking us some tea and helping daryl to skin the squirrel. It was almost like back then before the world went to shit. We didn't speak much either, only exchanged a few words or I gave him a short smile. When we were finished, we put the squirrel in a pan and made it ready for dinner. "Yar cookies ´re still good…" He suddenly murmured. I turned to him frightened before I smiled shyly and looked down. "Thanks…"

Our atmosphere became a little more relaxed and I was able to talk to him more and more. When we sat down at the table, we ate together and we continued to talk. "… i´ve been lookin´ for ya…" He said suddenly. His eyes went down, so his long hair now covered his eyes even more. I remained silent and I realized that my feelings for Daryl were never really gone. He had searched for me. I would like to know how many nights he was awake and had thought of me? How bad did he felt that he had hit me before all this started? "Daryl… I'm sorry…" "Don´ apologize…" He shook his head lightly, but he still looked down.

Slowly I got up and I went up to him to let my fingers drive through his long hair. Daryl never shrugged when I touched it. He leaned closer and closer to my touches, just like now. He sighed softly before he wrapped his arms around me and buried his face between my breasts. "´though´ ya were dead…" His voice broke my heart, I would´ve never thought that it would break him so much. "But i´m here now… with you…" My words brought him to nod and I smiled slightly.

While my fingers played with his hair, Daryl gently caressed my back. His hands always went to my lower back, never to my ass. We were never really intimate, Daryl had never felt ready because of his body, and I didn't wanted to stress him either. Just like now. We stayed in this position for a while, Daryl had still wrapped his arms tightly around me while I continued to run my hair through his long, brown strands. It was a little unusual to see him with long hair, but he looked really good with them. Daryl only went back to his house when the sun was down.

We stopped on my doorstep and I looked nervous and unsure at him. How should we say goodbye? With a kiss? With a hug? Wave? Were we even still a couple? Too many questions went through my head, but I was thrown back hard into reality when Daryl kissed my forehead. "See´ya…" And with these words he went to his house.

Only when he closed the front door did I go back into my house and I gently put my finger on my forehead. My skin tingled and I felt my cheeks getting warmer. Before the world went to shit, Daryl had always kissed me on the forehead before going away. It was something like a silent promise that he would come back again and again. I could only think of Daryl all night long, but this time in a good way. I knew he was safe, slept next to my house and probably also thought of me. Although it always annoyed me in our old times, I sometimes missed his quiet snoring. But the funny fact about this was, that he only snored when I slept next to him. How can someone who is as quiet as a hunter at the same time be so loud?

I thought of old times all nights and days that I had with Daryl. At this time I found them cheesy or strange, but today I just thought they were great.

When I once asked him to buy something, he brought two squirrels and three fishes back, which he had hunted by himself. I was startled and asked him why he didn't just went to the supermarket which was maybe just 10 minutes away from us. "Don´ need tha´ shit…" Was his only answer to my question. I found it incredibly weird back then, but today I had to grin because of this. I wondered how he would have reacted if I had praised him?

On my birthday he was camping with me and we had to go back home because it had stormed unexpectedly. After that we both were sick and I was incredibly annoyed, but now I had to laugh and think about how lovingly Daryl had taken care of me, even though he was also very sick. Or when we had argued and he ran away. At first I thought that he would never come back, but on the same day there was a huge bouquet on my doorstep with a little note on it which says "´ sorry.". The next day, Daryl knocked on my door and apologized in person then.

When we were together for three years, Daryl had my initials tattooed on his wrist. I found it incredibly cute and I kept stroking the ink when we cuddled or when I was nervous. Sometimes I also caught daryl how he himself stroked these letters when he was nervous. We had experienced a lot together and I hoped that we could continue to do so.

The next day I met with a few neighbors, we always met once a week and we talked about everything. To do this, we sit on my terrace because it had a bank and a Hollywood swing. I had brought us all something refreshing to drink and we talked for a while.

When I was entertained, I saw from the corner of the eye that Daryl went out of the house to get to Deanne's house, he would probably find out his job today. He passed my house and nodded to me briefly, I could see a small smile on his lips. This little smile made my heart beat faster and faster because I knew exactly that he only gave me this smile. "(Y/N)? Helloooo?" One of my neighbors waved in front of my face, which made me flinch. I looked around a bit, my neighbors looked at me confused and worried. My cheeks became bright red when I realized that I had stared at Daryl all the time. "S-sorry… I what just…" "What that one of the new group?" Now my neighbors looked at me even more confused, but a few seemed to understand it and they grinned broadly. "You like him? Why him? He is the weirdest one of all them. " "He's not weird…! He's just… special… I guess." The grin, on my neighbors lips got wider and my cheeks became even more red now. "Don´t look at me like that…" I murmured softly, but that only brought them to laugh loudly.

"Oh my God! I would´ve never thought he's your type! Is it because of his muscles? " "He smiled at you! Maybe he likes you too! " "Do you still have some sexy underwear?" They overwhelmed me with questions and I was slowly becoming dizzy. I hadn't told anyone in Alexandria about Daryl and me. Accordingly, nobody knew that we were together. Or still somehow are…? I don´t know it. "Guys, guys… Let her breathe." The oldest neighbor in our group said then.

I gratefully smiled at her before I cleared my throat and adjusted my clothes, although there was nothing to do with them. I breathed deeply before I tried to somehow avoid. "We knew each other… Before the apocolypse … Nothing more." It wasn't really a lie tho. My neighbors stayed still briefly before they grinned even more and nodded. Fortunately, they no longer asked. When it was evening, I was about to go to bed when someone knocked on my door.

I saw confused at the clock, which showed me that it was 11 p.m. So I took my morning mantle even more confused and I wrapped it around my body so that nobody could see my pajamas. I could never wear anything with long sleeves while sleeping, it had to be a shirt or top and a shorts. And since I didn't want anyone to see me in top and shorts, I wrapped the morning mantle around me. Slowly I went to the door and I opened it quietly. "Daryl?" I saw confused to the archer, which only looked shy at me. In his hand he held a white rose while holding his crossbow with the other. "What are you doing here so late?" "´Was outside… can I uh… Come in…?" His question let me stall a little, but I nodded slightly and let him in.

Daryl putted down his crossbow and pulled out the shoes before I took the rose and put it in a small vase. As I put the vase on the window, Daryl hugged me from behind, his strong arms wrapped around my hip. My breath caught briefly before I looked back at him. "Daryl…? Are you okay …?" "´M sorry…" He wanted to withdraw, but I grabbed his hand and leaned more into his hug. Daryl swallowed audibly, which made me chuckle in my head. Then the archer turned me around and buried his face into my neck. Slowly I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him closer to me.

"Do you wanna sleep here tonight?" I whispered softly as I played with his hair again. I liked his long hair, I liked it very much. Daryl hummed deeply before he nodded slightly and raised his head to look at me. With my fingers I stroked his strands of hair away from his forehead, so I had a better look at his eyes. His blue eyes sparkled slightly because of the moonlight, which seemed through my window. I smiled at him gently before we went up. We closed my bedroom door before I pulled out my morning mantle and put it on my chair. When I looked at Daryl, I watched him taking off his vest and shirt.

That was another thing I loved about Daryl. No matter how free I walked around, he remained respectful and sometimes even looked away. Sadly I´m the one who stares at the other one. Daryl looked so incredibly good, his broad shoulders, his strong chest, which is equipped with a few hairs, his narrow but stable hip and his strong arms. God, his arms, I had loved the most how they could lift me up with ease and kept me close to him. I loved them and Daryl knew that too. But when my eyes went to his back, my expression became sad briefly. His scars were terrible, a constant memory of his violent father, but I kept showing him that his scars never deterred me. I kissed every of them gently, stroked his back and also massage it.

There were also scars on his chest, much more than before the apocalypse. Probably he had received them through surviving and the fights. "´re ya still starin´ at an old men like me?" He suddenly teased me. My cheeks became bright red before I looked away and giggled softly. Slowly I went towards him and I put my hand over one of his scars, on his chest. "We're the same age, Daryl …" "´m a few years older, woman …" "Only three …" Daryl snorted briefly before I shaked my head.

I licked my lower lip uncertainly before I felt his rough hand on my cheek. We came closer and closer until our lips nestled together. A sigh escaped my lips, just like Daryls, while we moved our lips rhythmically against each other. We closed our eyes while we slowly climbed into bed. Daryl put his hand gently to my side to pull me closer to him. I carefully stroked his cheek, his beard stubble tickled my skin lightly. Breathing hard we loosened from each other and we looked deep into the eyes from the other.

I saw something in Daryl´s eyes that I had never really seen in them. Hunger, lust and pure love. I always saw love in his eyes when he looked at me, but hunger and lust were new. I continued to stroke his cheek, swallowing, the redneck remained calm while he pulls me on his lap. "Do you wanna do this …?" I then asked softly. Daryl only grumbled quietly before he nodded slightly and took my hand to kiss my wrist. He kept the intensive eye contact with me. "Yeh … ´ wanna show ya how much I missed ya …" He then murmured softly against my skin.

His words gave me a light goose bumps and I nodded slightly. Daryl sat up and gently removed my top, so I could let it fall next to the bed. He looked at my bare breasts briefly before looking at my shoulders. He gently put his hands on my sides and he started kissing my shoulder. Panting, I closed my eyes and I put my hands over his back. I gently stroked his scars, which let him breathe in trembling.

He carefully grabbed my breasts and gently massaged them. His touch let me gasp loud because of the mix, his rough skin and his gentle touch, let me moan loudly. Daryl massaged my breasts for a while as he stirred my neck and shoulders with kisses before having his hands drive to my shorts. He stopped briefly. "You can continue, Daryl…" I whispered softly and lifted my pelvis slightly so that it was easier to take them off. The archer grumbled briefly before pulling down my shorts and my panties. When he threw both out of bed, his gaze immediately went to my cunt. "Yar so beautiful …" He murmured softly before he gently pushed me in bed.

I automatically spread my legs so that he could lie between them. Under his pants I could already see his bulge, which twitched from time to time. I looked up at him with bright red cheeks, but Daryl looked at my body very well as if he hadn't seen it for years. Well, he hasn´t seen my body in years. "Daryl …" "Hm?" Only slightly present he answered me, he put his hands on my sides. "I love you … I never stopped …" Then I whispered softly.

The archer immediately flinched, his eyes sparkled briefly before leaning forward to me, with his arms he supported himself. He pressed a loving kiss on my lips as he gently rubbed his pelvis against mine. The fabric, of his jeans, rubbed against my clitoris and I could now feel his hard cock even more. I gently grabbed into his strong arms as I felt that I was getting wetter. Daryl rubbed against me ever tighter, his cold stimulus lock sometimes gave me a cold shiver. "Ah ~…! D-Daryl ~… " I gasped softly and closed my eyes. Daryl just growled softly, but his eyes were very careful. He wanted to see how I felt while he rolled his hips faster and faster against mine. "Ya wan´ more ~?" His voice was rough and they gave me a pleasant shiver.

My nipples got hard and they rubbed his chest slightly. I quickly nodded before I opened my eyes and looked in his eyes. "Yes, please~… Daryl~… i´ve waited so long for this… for us~…" My words let his cock, in his pants, twitch and he growled loudly. Slowly he moved his hips away and he sat up to pull his jeans down. But to his cock tho, I was able to see a huge, wet stain, which immediately let me blush. Daryl hadn't rubbey against me too long and I was already so wet.

Daryl seemed to understand my redness because he grinned briefly before he pulled his underwear down to his knees, and looked up to me. "It's okay … Don´ be emberrassed …" His voice was so gentle and so rough at the same time. I had to gasp loud and I nodded slightly. Daryl supported himself again, with his arms, his lips landed on my cleavage, which he covered with mouth-opened kisses. He went deeper and deeper until his lips closed around my nipple and he sucked gently on it. He twirled the other nipple with his fingers, which made me a whine.

I automatically moved my hips back and forth, hoping to get some friction, but I didn't get anything. Only my breasts got his attention. Daryl covered my chest with smooch stains and sucked greedily on my nipple before he went to the other breast and gave her the same treatment. "Daryl~ … please~ …" I felt that my abdomen contracted, with excitement and my clitoris pulsed even more.

Although he barely touched me, the tears came out of my eyes because of the excitement and I breathed faster and faster. Daryl seemed to feel my excitement because he kissed up to my face again until he gently kissed my lips. "Greedy woman, ha~?" I had to giggle softly, but I nodded slightly. I was really greedy. Greedy for him, after the man that I had loved for over 5 years now. And now I would get this man completely. I could hardly wait, but could you blame me? "It's okay…" And with these words I heard how he positioned himself on my pussy. I looked down between the two of us, to his cock. A few drops of pre-cum was on his tio and they slowly ran down his shaft. Daryl rubbed his shaft between my folds and he moved his hips forth and back. Moaning quietly, I bit my lower lip, my grip around his arms, became a little firmer. "Can I get in~?" "Yes, Daryl~ … Please…" I lay on my back relaxed, in the bed and I looked up at him.

The archer supported himself again, but this time only with one arm. He positioned himself at my entrance with his other hand before he slowly pushed into me. Moaning I closed my eyes, while Daryl now supported himself with both arms now and also closed my eyes. The archer breathed heavily and quickly, while my inner walls sucked his shaft deeper and closely pulled together around him. A strong pain passed through me briefly before this pain turned into lust. When I opened my eyes again, I looked up. Daryl had buried his face into my neck, but I felt his rapid breath and his quick heartbeat while his cock pulsed hard into me. I felt full, but in the good way.

My senses were foggy and I gently caressed his back. I gently stroked his back to show him that he should take time. My gentle touch made him tremble briefly before he raised his head and looked deep into my eyes. His blue eyes looked at me lustfully, his cheeks were red and a few of his strands of hair hung in front of his face. I gently stroked this path and I kissed Daryl gently. "You can move…" I whispered against his lips. Daryl just growled softly before he started moving slowly. He slowly pulled himself out of me, only to sink back into me immediately afterwards. A loud sigh escaped me and I closed my eyes again. “Nah… look in my eyes” I heard the archer moaning quietly.

I immediately listened to him and opened my eyes again. We looked deep into each other's eyes as Daryl kept bumping his hip against mine. I wrapped my legs around his waist to draw him even closer to me. Daryl was still leaning his arms beside my head, his strong arms always tense slightly as he sank deep into me. “I love ya…” Daryl grumbled softly, his voice giving me a pleasant shiver. “I love you too…” After I moaned this, Daryl moved faster.

Our skin slapped louder and louder, and my voice grew louder and louder. I found it increasingly difficult to keep my eyes open, so I closed them slowly. I felt Daryl lean his forehead against mine, and his voice also grew a little louder. My hands went from his back to his arms, into which I pressed my fingernails. The bed between us squeaked loudly and I kept moaning his name as if he were a god. My legs, around his waist, were getting tighter and tighter around his hip, so Daryl couldn't stretch out very far. His strokes were getting faster and shorter, which took my breath away. “G-god, Daryl!” My voice grew louder and my chest raised and lowered faster and faster.

Daryl growled loudly before he started kissing my neck. He gently bit into my skin, which again took my breath away. Although my eyes were closed, they rolled backwards. All I could hear in my room was the sound of our voices and our skin slapping together. Every now and then I would let out a whimper and Daryl a loud growl. Daryl gently bit my throat, which made me gasp loudly. I stretched my back and pressed my breasts against his chest. “D-daryl, fuck!” "Mnhrr… (Y/N)…" Hearing his deep growl, so close to one ear, made me tremble, and I whimpered louder and louder.

I got goosebumps while Daryl raised his head again and looked at my face. I felt his gaze on me, even though my eyes were closed, but I could not open them either, it was almost as if he had enchanted me. Perhaps he had even done so. The next moment Daryl sat up, his hands now gently grasping my hip. Confused, I opened my eyes before tearing them wide open and screaming loudly. Daryl's grip around my hip became firmer and he rammed himself harder into me. I firmly reached into my duvet, tears ran down my face and I curled my toes. “D-daryl…! Oh my god! I’m gonna cum!” I screamed loudly as I stretched my back.

Daryl's tip kept bumping against the magic point of mine that made me see stars. I was so excited, I still "cried" because of the arousal which was getting too much for me to handle. Daryl also grew a little louder, his cock was twitching more and more inside me, that means that he´s also about to cum. As my orgasm rolled over me, I moaned Daryl's name out loud, my pussy tightened tightly around his shaft and sucked even more greedily on him.

The archer gasped in shock before also moaning my name out loud and cuming at me. I felt his hot seeds flow into me. Breathing heavily, Daryl let me go and he pulled himself out of me while I tried to calm myself down. The archer fell into the bed next to me and he sighed loudly into my pillow, making me giggle. “That was good…” I whispered quietly.

Daryl grumbled approvingly before placing his arm on my stomach and pulling me closer to him. Giggling, I kissed his temples while straightening his boxer shorts and then snuggled up to him. “Were ya a virgin?” He asked me suddenly, his voice still muffled by the pillow. His question surprised me a little, but I nodded slightly. “Yeah… were you?” "´f course, woman…" He turned his face to me and looked at me, his eyes tired. Smiling, I kissed him gently before pulling the blanket over us. "I love ya… and 'm sorry for bein´ an asshole..." “It’s okay… you are here now, with me.” We kissed each other again before we both fell asleep. Grinning I fell asleep when I heard his loud snoring again.

[chukys-mouthguard]

broken memories - pt. 2

sequel to kinda tempting

3k words | loosely proof read

genre: fluff/angst

featuring: mat barzal x female reader x matt rempe

warnings: mentions of loss of pregnancy

previous chapter

It had been a month since you had broken the news to Matt about your baby. He was temporarily living with Jonathan Quick as he continued his offseason training to prepare for camp. The two of you kept in touch, often checking in on one another as you both navigated the stages of grieving.

You still talked on the phone at least twice a week, things remaining very cordial between you, which you appreciated. Never wanting to lose Matt entirely, hoping that you could remain friends despite everything.

Mat Barzal on the other hand, wasn’t being much of a friend as he’d yet to return any of your texts. Including your text you’d sent the night of the fight with Matt when he packed his things and left.

While you understood he was engaged and happy with someone else, he did promise that you could still reach out to him whenever you needed. Yet maybe that was simply a meaningless comment of comfort at the time, not something that held any true intent behind it.

You had finally started to feel like your normal self, getting fully back into work and preparing for the upcoming season. The organization pleasantly surprised you as they did not intend to fire you despite your relationship with Rempe, of course now that wouldn’t pose a problem. But you were happy that you could stay with the organization after you had become so sure this would be where you stayed for the foreseeable future should you and Matt have had your baby to raise.

Checking the time you had a little over an hour left in your work day, figuring you’d use the time to go get some footage of the recent renovations of the locker room to start making a few posts for the socials.

As you exited the elevator your phone was buzzing in your pocket, an image of Rempe brightly filling the screen. A smirk found its way across your lips at the sight of the photo. It was after his debut stadium series game, his eye black slightly smeared as he flashed a goofy smile at the camera. You’d never forget the excitement surrounding that day, but more importantly meeting Matthew.

“Hello Matthew Rempe, how can I help you?”

He chuckled at your sing-song tone as he greeted you. “I am actually getting in the car, just leaving training. But, I realized I need some stuff from the apartment, well your apartment. Can I swing by?”

Heading into the Rangers locker room you pulled your work phone from your pocket, snagging some photos and a few videos to ensure you had plenty of content to use in editing.

“Um, yeah sure. I’m finishing up here at MSG within the hour, then I’ll be heading home. I would say I can be there in like an hour or so? If that works for you?”

“Yeah, I’ll probably hit traffic on my way so that would be fine. I’ll see you soon!”

“Sounds good, see you in a bit.”

-

Dropping your bag on the island you headed down the hall to throw on some comfy clothes, which ended up being some shorts and a Rangers t-shirt that Matthew had left behind. You figured this wasn’t an item he was in need of so he wouldn’t mind you wearing it.

Before you could even get fully settled in from work there was a knock at your door.

“Matthew Rempe, what in the world is this?”

You eyed the boy as he carried in a box of food, setting it on the island as he wrapped you in a quick hug.

“Well, I knew you probably hadn’t eaten dinner yet. And it could be like old times, when we’d get our favorite takeout place for dinner.”

You smiled at the gesture, thinking back to how Matt’s diet surely took a turn throughout your pregnancy once the craving for Chinese food kicked in. Weekly Matt found himself bringing home whatever dish it was you craved, but he never once complained. Well, that is except for when you ended up with a better fortune in your cookie than he did.

“You really didn’t have to do this, I could’ve just made some leftovers or something.”

He shot you a playful smile as he held up the container of steamed dumplings.

“Really? You’d pass on dumplings for leftovers?”

You licked your lips as you stole the container from his hand, moving around to the other side of the island as you pulled out some plates and silverware. Passing some to Matt so he could serve up his food before the two of you found your familiar spots on the floor at your coffee table.

“So, how are you doing? Everything good?”

Nodding your head you reached for a napkin, wiping your mouth before you answered him.

“Yeah, starting to feel like my normal self again. It was a little rocky there for a bit. But, I’m starting to feel good. Able to make it through the workday without crying, which is a big plus. How about you?”

He also nodded, adjusting how he sat on the floor as he rested back on his hands.

“Yeah, same here. I mean, I still have my moments where I do the why me sort of spiel. But I would say I’ve gotten past a lot of the frustration and anger I felt for a while. And training has been freaking amazing, I’m so excited for camp. I’ve been working so hard, the boys are really impressed.”

The smile on his face as he told you about his offseason training schedule warmed your heart. A smile formed on your lips as you saw how excited he was, talking about some of the different workouts he’s pushed himself through. Matt was like a kid in a candy story as he talked about the upcoming season. He’d already come such a long way from the rookie you met at the stadium series.

“I’m really proud of you Matt, and I can tell you’ve been working hard. I can see it for sure!”

“Oh, so you were checking me out eh? The biceps are looking pretty good if I do say so myself.”

He shot you a wink as he flexed his bicep for you, making you roll your eyes playfully as you reached over to steal a bite of his sesame chicken.

“Seriously? Some things just never change I guess.”

He slightly chucked as you shrugged your shoulders. Stealing Matt’s food was always something you’d do after telling him you didn’t like his order. Which would always lead to a silly argument once you’d stolen almost half of his chicken from his plate. Leaving him with mostly rice and veggies, which were obviously not the reason for him ordering the dish. But he never complained, always happy as long as you were.

That was something you’d always appreciated about Matt. He was selfless, always willing to sacrifice anything for you, to put himself in difficult positions for you. But you always felt like you couldn’t give him the same, your heart being pulled in the opposite direction for a guy who clearly had moved on from you like it was nothing.

You hated that you’d hurt Matt, of course losing your baby wasn’t anything you’d ever done intentionally. But to know he still felt as though it was never him in your heart, that you were solely with him for your daughter and not because you liked him enough on his own, it hurt. Because maybe you were both wrong, maybe somehow things could have worked. Had your relationship not began the way it did, if you had simply walked away once you knew Mat had cheated. Maybe you two could've had a happy ending, rather than him moving out with you both left to pick up the pieces separately.

“Y/n!”

Snapping from your thoughts you looked up at Matt, his hand holding out two fortune cookies.

“You pick first, remember?”

It was always tradition for you to pick your cookie first, Matt’s rules. He said that your intuition was better than his, and most of the time your fortunes did suit each of you perfectly.

Taking the cookie on the right you playfully smiled, the two of you ripping open the packages as you each cracked open the cookies. Pulling out the small piece of paper, you read your fortune to yourself, biting your lip as you looked at Matt, seeing him already looking back at you in anticipation. He could see the tears welling in your eyes, immediately moving to your side to comfort you. His arms holding you tight as you cried, trying to pull yourself together as this wasn’t supposed to be a night for the two of you to be sad.

“What did it say?”

You took a deep breath as you sat up, wiping your tears as you read the message out loud.

“If you want the rainbow, you have to tolerate the rain.”

You softly chuckled, now realizing it seemed silly to cry over such a cliche message. But as you looked up at Matt he was fighting his own tears, sniffling as he tried to pull himself together.

“I think that was exactly what you needed to hear right now. Like I’ve always said, your intuition is a hell of a lot better than mine.”

He gave you a smile as he stood up, collecting the dishes and taking them into the sink as he began to clean them off. You then tossed the throw pillows back onto your couch before joining him. Taking a seat on the counter as you watched him dry the dishes before placing them back in the cabinet.

“Well what about you?”

He tossed the dish towel over his shoulder as he turned to look at you, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter.

“What about me?”

“Your fortune!”

“Ohhh, let’s see, where did I put it?”

Typical Matt. He’d always put his fortune on the table, or in his pocket, the most random places thinking he’d lost it only to find it twenty minutes later.

“Here it is!”

Stuck to the bottom of his sock, that was a new one.

He playfully cleared his throat as he read from the tiny paper.

“A lifetime of happiness is in front of you.”

His eyes flashed up to meet yours, the words ringing in your ears and making your heart skip a beat. Though surely Matt didn’t see it that way, probably interpreting the fortune to be an overall meaning of the future, not literally right in front of him.

He simply shrugged as he placed the dish towel back onto the counter, “guess I’m gonna have to wait for happiness I guess. Unless, right in front of me.”

Looking down he stared at the sink, then flashed his eyes to you.

“This, washing dishes. It’s my future. Is this a sign that camp isn’t gonna go well for me?”

You rolled your eyes, practically falling off the counter at his god awful joke. Searching the apartment for your phone as he continued on, trying his best to make you laugh, which you always appreciated.

Looking at the screen you saw a multitude of text messages, all from none other than Mat. You’d immediately set your phone down, rejoining Matthew in the kitchen as you had no desire to talk to Barzal. It had been a month since you saw him, and you were not in the business of being friends only when it was convenient for him.

“Well, this has really been great, for the both of us I think. But, I gotta grab my stuff and head out. I’ve got an early training session tomorrow.”

Playfully you frowned at him as he headed to your previously shared bedroom, pulling a few things from the closet as he tossed them into a duffle bag he’d brought. Then he moved to the bathroom, and finally ended up in the living room grabbing a few books from the shelf.

“If you ever wanted to come over, not just when you need to grab some of your stuff, you can do that too you know?”

Matt softly smiled at you, appreciating the fact that you were open to still hanging out with him despite everything that happened. He felt awful for the way he left things, for accusing you of not necessarily having feelings for him or ever seeing yourself with him. It was pretty harsh when he thought back on it. And he wished things could’ve played out differently. But to even get an open invite from you to spend time together after the things he’d said, he felt that was a step in the right direction.

“I know that now, and I will definitely keep that in mind.”

He wrapped you in a hug before heading out the door, out of habit kissing your head before awkwardly apologizing. To which you’d told him you didn’t mind, it still felt so normal for him to do so. He promised to text you once he got home, but told you not to wait up as he might hit traffic on his drive and you need your rest for work in the morning. He truly did know you way too well.

Heading back into the living room you heard your phone buzzing on the coffee table. A photo of you and Mat Barzal filling the screen, one you’d apparently never changed after your breakup.

“Hello?”

“Hey, um, is everything okay?”

You scoffed at his somewhat annoyed tone as you took a seat on the couch, pulling a throw blanket over your legs as you spat back at him.

“Like you care? It’s been a month since I saw you and this is the first I’ve heard from you. What about the five other days I’ve tried reaching out? You didn’t care until now?”

He sighed on his end of the call, realizing he’d come off wrong, trying to apologize and start over as he explained himself.

“Well, you’re right. I should’ve responded sooner. But, Ava was in town, I couldn’t have her seeing me talking to you. But, I mean I texted you back now. You’re the one ignoring me now.”

He playfully chuckled, though you were not amused, Mat always thinking he could use charm to move past any wrongdoing.

“First of all, what good does texting me now do if I reached out weeks ago? Maybe I needed you then. And second of all, I wasn’t ignoring you. I was busy. Matt came over to grab some of his things and he brought dinner.”

Mat’s line of the phone went silent, eventually you’d heard him take a deep breath before he spoke.

“So, the guy packs up his things and walks out on you, but suddenly you’re hanging out and having dinner together? Are you two broken up or not?”

His tone was annoyed and angry, though you weren’t sure why considering he was happily engaged, which you didn’t think you needed to remind him of but clearly he’d forgotten.

“Last time I checked, you’re happy with Ava. So why do you care so much? I’m not allowed to have dinner with him? He and I were literally going to have a child, you think that everything between him and I just goes away overnight because I’m no longer pregnant?”

You found yourself laughing, the conversation seeming silly to you. There was no need for you to explain yourself to him, but part of you felt like you owed him something. After all, you did the same thing right back to him that he’d done to you.

“There was never anything between you two! Stop trying to pretend like there was. I get it okay, I fucked up. I should have never cheated on you. Do I think it gave you the right to do the same to me, no. But I could see how I pushed you into the arms of someone else. What I won’t let you do, is try to tell me that even for a second there was something between you and him. He got you pregnant after one night, and you two had to be together for your baby. That’s not love, that’s nothing close to what we had. So don’t you dare try to say it’s anything similar.”

You tried not to take his words personally, knowing they were coming from a place of hurt as he’d clearly not gotten over everything that happened. Rather just tried to mask it all by jumping into an engagement he clearly wasn’t satisfied with. But you weren’t going to just accept the things he said, letting him act as if there were never any feelings felt between you and Matthew.

“Mat, you have never once been in the same room as us. You’ve not been around Matt and I, you don’t know the feelings that are there. You don’t know how we feel towards one another, so you can’t tell me how I feel or how I don’t.”

“How you feel? So what, you still supposedly like this guy? After he packed his shit and walked out on you during one of the hardest moments of your life, you still have fucking feelings for someone like that? You’d want to be with the guy after all this?”

“Well I stayed with you during your shitty moments didn’t I?”

The comment was harsh, but you didn’t care. Mat always thought he could do no wrong, that the way he spoke was justified, and you were sick of him trying to make you feel bad, regardless if you’d hurt him or not.

“Why do you fucking care so much Mat? Must I remind you, you’re engaged! You chose her! So why could you possibly care so much if I still have feelings for Matt or would consider trying to do things the right way with him?”

The line went silent, and it felt as if minutes had passed before Mat finally confessed to you why’d he become so frustrated with you admitting you might truly have feelings for Rempe after all.

“Because I called off my engagement.”

[slaymitchabernathy]

Naughty or Nice?

| "I'm talkin' deckin' all the halls, I'm talkin' spikin' eggnog. I'm talkin' opposite of small, I'm talkin' big snowballs. You got a new toy for me, I'm out here trimmin' the tree. I caught that holiday glee, my true love gave it to me." |

“Go to bed girls,” Coriolanus says once more, only his head pokes through the opening of the doors. He watches the girls giggle, doing their best to convince him that they’ll be on their best behavior but they probably won’t.

“If you don’t go to sleep then Santa won’t come and bring you presents.”

The girls gasp and shush each other making him grin. Lying about Santa isn’t the best thing to do but it’s earned him stellar behavior from all three of his children the past month.

The moment one of them was on the cusp of a tantrum, Coriolanus was threatening to tell Santa. Soarynn had chided him on it, claiming it wasn’t fair to hold it over their heads but he figured he only had ten years with each child before they started putting two and two together so he wouldn’t waste this precious momentum.

And the children were excellently behaved tonight. He took his family to the ballet with some good friends of theirs and then they ended the night at one of their favorite restaurants. The children ate all their food and used their best manners.

At twenty-six, Coriolanus Snow feels on top of the world. He’s doing great at work, has a beautiful home, and the perfect wife who's blessed him with three perfect, beautiful children.

Coriolanus closes the doors to his eldest daughter’s bedroom feeling very pleased with how his life has turned out so far.

His girls had begged to sleep in the same bed so they could wait for Santa and he eventually gave in after enough pouting.

He makes his way through the living room, admiring their beautiful tree. Soarynn decorated it beautifully with red garlands and golden accents along with shiny ornaments. Tons of presents sit under the tree, gifts for the family from the family.

He’ll have to slip the ones from Santa under the tree later tonight once the children are really asleep. Even if they were little tyrants tonight, there’s no way in hell he’d let any of those presents go to waste. He’s spent a small fortune on them, well, his wife spent a small fortune on them.

He was simply the one writing the check.

He walks into the kitchen and eyes the plate of cookies they left for Santa. They do look quite delicious and that glass of warm milk is calling his name.

He licks his lips, maybe a little late-night treat wouldn’t hurt. He’s just about the grab a cookie when his wife’s voice scares the shit out of him, “Coriolanus Snow.”

He jumps and turns around, giving her a sheepish smile while she stands under the doorway, hands on her hips, not looking too impressed with his behavior, “I was a bit peckish,” he explains.

Soarynn raises an eyebrow, “Those are for Santa,” she nods at the plate of decorated cookies, “not for you.”

Coriolanus rolls his eyes, certainly no one would’ve noticed if he ate one cookie. And he’s going to have to take a bite out of one before the children wake up so why not get a head start? “You don’t want to get a lump of coal in your stocking,” Soarynn tells him.

To Soarynn’s credit, they’ve had a wonderful holiday season. She’s made sure that they’ve done every activity under the sun from meeting Santa to going sledding. She’s not about to let him throw all her hard work down the drain, “Are the children asleep?” She asks, stepping into the kitchen. Coriolanus hums, eyeing the cookies one last time, “Yes darling, tucked into bed with sugarplums dancing above their heads or however the song goes.”

Soarynn smiles, but not her usual smile, no, this smile has sinister intentions behind it. “Good, because I have a gift for you.”

Oh, well that’s not sinister at all.

“Really? Well I’ll open it tomorrow morning darling,” he says, going to the cupboard to grab himself a wine glass, they might as well end the night watching a film while cuddling on the sofa.

“It’s for tonight.”

He looks over his shoulder at Soarynn who bats her eyelashes at him, “Come to our room in fifteen minutes,” she instructs. She leaves before he can ask any questions and his mouth suddenly feels very dry. Soarynn isn’t one for random surprises, no, she values routine above everything else.

He begins to think of the worst, perhaps she broke something and was waiting for a good time to tell him. Maybe she wants him to hang up another picture frame, it wouldn’t be the first time.

Or…or maybe she got another kitten.

Coriolanus suddenly feels lightheaded and grips the counter for support. His entire life is flashing before his eyes. Two cats are diabolical. He’ll have to put his foot down, simple as that. He’s the man of the house and he simply cannot tolerate two Petunias.

He might as well have that wine now. Heaven knows he’ll need it.

Fifteen minutes pass at an agonizing pace, too slow for him to handle but Soarynn won’t let him into their bedroom a minute earlier. He knows that much.

He glances up at the clock and sighs, it’s finally ten o’clock. Time to face his doom.

He finishes off his wine and sets the glass in the sink before trudging down the hallway to their bedroom. He’s so busy feeling sorry for himself that he doesn’t even notice the rose petals on the floor leading up to their bedroom. Only when he’s about to open the doors does he realize that her gift could be something very different.

He cautiously opens the doors, peeking his head in just in case and what he sees causes his jaw to go slack.

Soarynn. On the bed. Wearing red sheer tights with lingerie under the tights and a red bow wrapped around her waist. She’s wearing a gorgeous red lacy bralette as well and she looks like an absolute vision.

She’s sitting on her knees, wearing a proud smile when she sees his shocked expression.

“Come in darling,” she purrs, beckoning him in with the wave of her finger.

Like the lovesick fool he is, Coriolanus stumbles into the bedroom like he’s in a trance, shutting the doors behind him and swearing to treat this woman like the goddess she is for the rest of their lives.

“This is…this is something,” he finally says, stopping once he reaches the bed. Soarynn softly chuckles and pops up on her knees so that they’re almost at the same height, “I just wanted to give you an extra special gift, you know, for all you do for me.”

Coriolanus swallows when she goes to undo his tie, “All I…all I do for you?” He squeaks when she pulls the tie off him, “Mhm, all you do to take care of me,” she sweetly explains, undoing the buttons on his shirt next. “You take such good care of me Coryo and I just wanted to find a special way to thank you.”

Coriolanus decides right then and there that he’s the luckiest man alive.

And she looks so gorgeous. Her hair and makeup are the same from the ballet and dinner. Parted down the side with light yet perfect makeup to enhance her natural beauty.

He rests a hand on her hip and resists the urge to rip these tights right off of her. But he should be patient. Yes, patient. But he’s never been good at being patient. That’s Soarynn’s specialty.

“Well this is very nice,” he tells her, helping her slide off his white shirt, baring his chest to her, “very, very nice. Where did you get the bow?”

Soarynn smiles up at him, “It’s a secret.”

Right.

“Alright, well can I unwrap my present now?” He asks with a teasing smile, desperate to get his hands on her and more importantly, get her under him.

Soarynn shakes her head and it damn near crushes his hopes and dreams, “Not yet,” she says softly, dragging her hand down his chest towards his belt, “first, I want to give you a smaller gift.” Soarynn cups his hardened length right through his trousers and smirks when he gasps. She’s never ever been this straightforward and he can’t help but ask.

Who is this woman and what has she done with his shy, timid little wife?

The Soarynn he knows rarely ever engages in sexual activity first, she always lets him take the lead which he doesn’t mind at all. He loves being in charge and loves that she trusts him enough to do the things they do but this behavior is entirely different.

“Oh,” is all he says, his voice a croak.

Soarynn nods and slowly unbuckles his belt, "You've just been so stressed darling," she says, almost like she's pouting, "so busy with work, providing for our family. Sometimes you don't even come to bed until early in the morning."

Well, well...well, she has a point. The holiday season is always hectic with work and despite it being a "family-oriented holiday", Coriolanus always finds himself buried in end-of-the-year paperwork. Soarynn understands, of course, someone has to pay the bills but she's taking matters into her own hands it seems.

Literally.

She lets the belt fall to the ground and unzips his trousers at an agonizing pace, like she's teasing him and he's not even fully naked yet. Coriolanus feels frozen, only allowed to watch her palm his length while looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes, like a little vixen.

"Sit down," she says and he nearly sits on the floor. "On the chair," she elaborates pointing over at the sitting area they have in their room.

Who is he to disobey her?

He kicks off his trousers and walks over to the armchair he sits in every night before getting ready for bed. He slowly sinks into the chair and watches with great fascination as Soarynn slowly slips off the bed. Now that she's standing, he can fully admire her outfit and can see that she's wearing red high heels as well.

She's going to fucking kill him.

She's wearing this proud smirk because she knows, she knows she's got him in the palm of her hand.

Once she reaches him and bends down until her lips are ghosting his, "Keep your hands on the chair," she whispers, looking into his eyes with such ferocity that he almost feels scared.

He nods and Soarynn smiles. She carefully sinks down in front of him, on her knees once again and his cock is begging to be touched. Soarynn slips a finger under the waistband of his boxers, causing his breath to hitch. He is the one who teases her like this, but he surprisingly doesn't mind that the roles have been reversed.

Soarynn hums and finally pulls down his boxers, releasing his cock that's already gathered precum at the tip. Soarynn gently grabs it and starts stroking it up and down, up and down. Coriolanus clenches his teeth, it feels so fucking good. He wishes he could just grab her hair like he usually does but he's under specific orders to keep his hands away from her.

He knows what she really meant by that demand: "Stop throat fucking me you impatient, unappreciative bastard."

Soarynn never complains when giving him a blow job but he always likes to be in charge, set the pace. Not tonight though.

Soarynn finally sticks out her tongue and swirls it around his very sensitive tip. He jerks in his seat, gripping the armrests for dear life. She looks up at him, a twinkle in her eyes while he tries to compose himself, restrain himself from grabbing a fistful of her hair, and fucking her throat until she cries.

She maintains eye contact as she takes him into her mouth and it's an ungodly sight that nearly makes him cum right then and there. Soarynn would never admit this, but she's very good at giving head. She can take him all the way down which is a very impressive feat where he's concerned. Coriolanus is well aware that he's well endowed, long in length with enough girth to stretch her out every single time.

She takes him like a champ, bobbing her head up and down, licking the underside of his shaft at the same time and his breathing is becoming labored. He can't remember the last time she gave him head, he's been...well, he's been busy! With work!

And Soarynn is here to remind him of what he's been missing out on.

Soarynn plays with his balls with her other hand and Coriolanus moans, unable to look away no matter how much it kills him to do so. She's just so sexy, so fucking irresistible with his cock buried in her throat. Soarynn takes him all the way down and holds it and he cries out, "Fuck Soarynn!"

He leans forward, pushing his cock further down his throat and Soarynn lets out a gagged groan. She probably didn't think this entirely through, and he doesn't need his hands to properly fuck his wife's throat but before he can do it again, she squeezes his balls hard.

Coriolanus lets out a pained scream and Soarynn pulls herself completely off of him, gasping for air while he does the same.

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her lipstick is slightly smudged and she has a murderous look in her eyes. "Really? You couldn't control yourself one time Coriolanus?"

He sputters while trying to come up with a proper apology or explanation as to why it's impossible not to watch her gag on his cock but she's not hearing it. "Thought you could handle it," she mutters, standing back up. Coriolanus reaches out for her, still painfully hard by the way.

"Soarynn," he calls, "darling, come back, let me try again, I'm sorry. I'll be perfectly behaved."

Soarynn walks over to the bed and bends down, looking for something apparently. He watches her with a puzzled look on his face but it fades quickly when she stands back up with his belt in her hands.

"Absolutely not," he says, shaking his head when she starts walking back over to him. "Soarynn, there's no way in hell I'm gonna let you tie me up."

She feigns a saddened look and rolls her eyes, "Oh really? Because your cock is leaking and we both know you'd rather kill yourself than handle it alone."

His teeth click from how quickly he shuts his mouth.

Who the fuck is this dominatrix?

And what has she done with his wife?

She holds her hands as wide as her shoulders, making the belt go taut between her hands, "The choice is yours, darling. Finish by yourself, or play by my rules for once. You tie me up all the time and I never complain."

He does love to tie her up. It's so fun to see her whine and struggle, to see her take everything he gives her. To see her pretty eyes fill with tears when she gets too stimulated.

He's shooting himself in the foot because he's only getting harder now that he's thinking about it.

Soarynn notices too and smirks, "Choose," she tells him, "are you gonna play naughty, or nice?"

Coriolanus wishes there were a third option such as: 'beg for forgiveness' but her tone is anything but forgiving.

He swallows not only his spit but his pride too, "Nice," he mumbles.

Soarynn grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head back, "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you, darling, say it again, louder this time," she orders, a wicked look in her eyes. He knows exactly what she's doing because two weeks ago he said the exact same thing to her during sex.

He's going to have to watch what he says from now on because she's clearly been keeping score.

He glares up at her, "Nice," he spits out, "I'll be fucking nice."

Soarynn chuckles and lets go of his hair, "Mhm, you'll be my good boy?"

Well, fuck.

His throat bobs from the new petname. He's got a whole list of petnames for her when they're in the bedroom, ranging from "sweet girl" to "my little mindless fuckdoll" but he's never been called this before.

He kinda likes it.

"Yes," he says, much nicer this time.

"Hands," she says, the same way he says it whenever he ties her up. Coriolanus sighs but holds up his hands, wrists right next to each other. Soarynn tilts her head and studies him for a moment, "Actually, put them behind your back," she purrs.

He begrudgingly puts his hands behind his back and bends forward so that Soarynn can tie his hands with his belt. With his own fucking belt. Soarynn gives him a pat on the back once she's done, "There we go, that wasn't so hard was it?"

He hangs his head, "No."

She slides two fingers under his chin and tilts his face up, "What was that?"

Coriolanus wants to be an asshole, be defiant and give her a hard time but for his own safety and sanity, he remains well-behaved. "No," he says louder, "it wasn't that hard."

Soarynn giggles and leans down to press a kiss to his nose, "Exactly, now let's try again, hmm?"

It's embarrassing how eagerly he nods for her to sink back down to her knees but he does. Soarynn settles in front of his cock again and this time, he's prepared to be tortured. Soarynn takes his hardened length into her hand and strokes him up and down a few times before she sticks out her tongue and starts licking his shaft, slowly to tease him.

Coriolanus moans, throwing his head back while he fights to break his hands free but it's no use, she's tied him up very well. She's been taking notes apparently.

When she takes him into her mouth again, his toes are curling and his teeth are grinding. It feels so fucking good. Soarynn bobs her head up and down, still looking him in the eye but this time, he's truly at her mercy. Soarynn stops at the tip and swirls her tongue around like it's a goddamn lollipop and he almost loses his mind.

"Oh fuck," he gasps, sweat forming on his brow, "fuck I'm close."

Soarynn keeps a steady pace, using her other hand to pump his shaft while she focuses on torturing his overly sensitive tip. He can feel himself getting closer and closer and, "Oh fuck Soarynn," he moans, spilling into her throat.

It's strange not to be able to grab her hair or hold her head down. All he can do is sit there and squirm while he cums. He watches Soarynn close her eyes while his cum spurts down her throat, continuing to pump his shaft.

He gasps at how good it feels and leans back in the chair, riding out his prolonged orgasm. When he finally stops, he's out of breath.

"Fuck that was good," he says, closing his eyes.

He's ready for a shower, well, maybe one round of sex, and then a shower.

Soarynn starts bobbing her throat up and down again.

Coriolanus sits right back up, eyes wide with confusion as his wife keeps sucking him off as if he didn't just cum right down her throat. "Soarynn," he gasps, trying to buck her off of him, "what're you doing?" She only moans while continuing to suck him off, going at a much faster pace this time.

"Shit," he grits out, "Soarynn, I...I can't, fuck, Soarynn!"

She looks back up at him and he can see how much she's enjoying this, enjoying how he's completely helpless, depending on her for his next orgasm which he doesn't even think he can handle but that's beside the point.

Like fucking clockwork, another orgasm is approaching and Coriolanus might just die if he reaches it. But Soarynn is clearly trying to kill him. Coriolanus whimpers, digging his fingernails into his palms as he feels himself getting closer again.

Soarynn lets go of his shaft and brings her hand down to his balls and he blacks out.

Coriolanus doesn't know how long he stays unconscious, he only starts to feel his body again when he feels Soarynn's nails gently scratching his scalp. He groans and slowly opens his eyes, blinking from the bright lights. The first thing he sees is Soarynn, smiling at him which is a nice thing to see when you come back from the dead.

She's sitting in his lap and that's when Coriolanus realizes that she's untied his hands. The evil, mischievous little part of him wants to take her right here and now and show her who's really in charge.

But the gentle, and overstimulated part of him simply rests his hands on her waist and leans into her touch. Soarynn chuckles, "Good choice." He furrows his eyebrows and she kisses his cheek, "If you tried to fuck me right now, you wouldn't even be able to stand, let alone use your cock."

Coriolanus blushes, he's never seen her so confident, so sure of herself. It's like they've switched places for one night only. "That was...that was amazing," he finally says, his voice slightly scratchy, "what the fuck was that?"

Soarynn laughs, resting her head on his shoulder with a content hum, "Oh, I don't know," she sighs, kicking her feet as they dangle off the side of the chair, "I just thought you might enjoy something different, something where you don't have to make all the decisions all the time."

He runs his fingers through her long blonde hair, feeling how soft it is, "Part of me wanted to jump you," he admits, remembering how frustrated he had been. "I know," she says sweetly, trailing her other hand up and down his bare chest. "But the other part of me was so...so hypnotized by you," he says, still in awe, "you turned into a new person."

Soarynn laughs, lifting her head so she can look him in the eyes again, "You like control," she tells him pointedly, "always have, always will and I like giving it to you. But it's nice to switch things up every once in a while, don't you think?"

Coriolanus is nodding before he can even stop himself. It is nice.

"Yeah," he says, nosing her jaw, "it's really nice."

Soarynn shifts on his lap and he's once again painfully aware of how sensitive his cock is. He's not hard but he could be very quickly. "Do you wanna fuck me now?" She asks him, batting those eyelashes the way she always does. Coriolanus swallows and looks at her sexy outfit again, "Maybe," he mumbles.

Soarynn giggles and grabs his jaw in her hand, "Do you wanna fuck me from behind? And make me take it over and over again?" She nods his head for him and his cock is starting to twitch again but she's on a roll again, "You wanna fuck me until I'm crying, and fill my cunt up with your cum since I belong to you and only you?"

"Yes," he says before she can say anything else, crashing his lips onto her lips. Soarynn smiles into the kiss and rests her hand on his neck while his hands grip her waist tightly. They move in sync, knowing exactly what to do after being together for over nine years.

"Good," she whispers, slightly pulling away, "because I really didn't want to have to be on top."

Coriolanus laughs, kissing her again but softer this time, taking his time to appreciate his beautiful, sexy, smart wife who gave him a Christmas Eve to remember.

"Only good girls get to be on top," he mumbles against her lips, "and you've been very naughty."

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| taglist: @strawberriicakes @wonderlandbound111 @villiansarehottest @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @kickmybark @melodyoflovee |

[aishnico]

#𝙎𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙃: 𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦

» summary: the famous guitarist of guns n’ roses is not sure what he feels towards you

» word count: 3.2k (wOOOOO)

» warnings: cringey stuff (help 🙄🙄), alchohol, drugs, not cheating but you might take it personally (?) suggestive content, he’s a bitch until the last parts, fluff at the end (?), grammar issues (as always)

“so, what’s up with that girl in that music shop?” duff asked his curly-haired friend while drinking his vodka.

his friend yawned. “huh, who?”

“the girl in the music shop, you even invited her to our last concert. izzy said he saw you two on outside.”

he blinked a few times. then realization hit him. “ooh, you’re talking about miss fortune,” he then started to laugh like an idiot. “be ready to hear what will come.”

he didn't care about you, at first. he just thought you were a cute girl who was in charge of one of his favorite music stores when sometimes the owner, your dad, wasn't around. you would look at him impressed and with adoration whenever he played one of the greatest guitar solos. your reaction would cause him to chuckle and boost his ego.

you wondered since when he was playing and how many hours he was practicing a day. of course, your mouth was wide open when you heard the answer. you acted like you weren't believing him, but deep down, you knew it was mostly true.

after some time, he asked you to attend one of his band's shows to see more of his guitar capabilities. and it's not like a famous rock star asks you this every day. so you accepted his offer.

the show was crazy; his bandmates were also crazy and flirtatious as fuck, but they killed the show. you were looking for him after the show. then saw his friends taking drugs while a couple of half-naked chicks were sitting by their sides. you assumed he was going to join them, but you saw him outside trying to light his cigarette. but you grabbed it from his hands with a sly smile. he furrowed his eyebrows.

"c'mon, girl, give it back."

"there are better things to do than this. what are you doing here?"

"just went for some fresh air. the atmosphere inside is making my head hurt today. guess i'm not in the mood."

"this," you pointed his lighter. "doesn't make fresh air. also, won't this make your head hurt more?"

he rolled his eyes at you. "and what are you suggesting?"

that was the first moment when he thought you were, strange. more strange and different than the girls he has ever met. he never thought you would bring him to a chinese tea shop. and he wasn't expecting you to pay for both of you. he had never tried this type of tea before. hell, when was the last time he even drank tea?

the waiters even offered both of you fortune cookies. he thought they were nothing but bullshit. who would even believe in them? of course, you would.

"how can you even believe in these?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows at the cookie.

"well, i don't know about you, but for me, most of them are true!"

"i've never eaten this before."

"come on! how about the fortune cards? have you tried them before?"

"no. like i said, they are all bullshit." he said with a strict tone.

"at least eat the cookie."

he did as you said and broke the cookie in half. he didn't even look at the mini-paper and wrinkled it. then saw your sad puppy eyes looking at him. he sighed and straightened the paper without showing it to you.

'the thing you might be looking for is nearer than you think.'

what does that even mean? he furrowed his eyebrows again. "what does it say?" you asked him excitedly, and he wrinkled the paper and put it in his pocket.

"you're no fun." you muttered.

"and you are the most hilarious person i've ever met. it's getting late. let's go."

"would you accompany me?" you asked with a teasing tone.

usually, when he would go on his 'dates', he would call a cab for them. he doesn't remember when he accompanied them on a walk or when he agreed to accompany you now.

he listened to your beliefs about those fortune things he found bullshit, how tea is better than coffee and country music is actually nice to listen to, which he disagrees with on both. you two didn't have any common things at all. but he found it amusing to argue about things about which you didn't have the same opinion as him.

you were now standing before your house. you smiled at him. "thank you for the company."

he shrugged. "i mean, you asked me to do it so..."

"yeah yeah, good night, saul." you planted a kiss on his cheek before entering your house. he stood there for a couple of seconds. then started to walk fast to the street to find a cab. he had already lost a lot of time.

"she then kissed my cheek, and she probably thinks we're dating or something." the guitarist laughed at his sentence with duff. he took another roll of cocaine.

"i think she did that because she wanted to tease you?" duff asked.

"tease me? man, i don't even have eyes on her. she's weird. not in a bad way, though."

"don't tease her himself. girls like her may think you're in love with her or something."

"trust me, she's like the last person to fall in love with."

that was what he has been telling himself since your little 'date'. he didn't bother to contact you, neither did you. he thought you were just acting indifferent.

he almost forgot you while he was on tour. every day traveling to another city, playing the same songs, meeting with new chicks, and sometimes making out with them...

it has been almost a month and a half since you saw each other. they were in los angeles again, working on a new album. one day, he received a phone call from the owner of his favorite music shop. the shopkeeper told him that there were new pedals and equipments for electric guitars at the shop. he got excited and went on his way to the shop.

he spent about an hour there, testing new guitars and equipments on them. however, he decided he didn't need them for now. he thanked the shopkeeper, and before leaving, he saw a familiar picture of a woman behind the cash point.

what he did not expect was that the woman in the picture, you, was the shopkeeper's daughter.

"haven't you met with my daughter yet? strange... i remember that she told me that a famous guitarist would come here often while i had something to do."

"i... don't remember her."

"hm, i don't think you can see her often here from now on. she's in college, so she doesn't have much time for her dad anymore, I guess." he coughed.

"what's her major?"

"english literature, i believe"

"cool... anyway, take care." the guitarist answered when he was about to leave the shop. before he could pull the door, somebody else pulled. you.

both his and your eyes wide open. you smiled at him sincerely. "what a pleasing surprise! we met again." you chuckled.

"oh? isn't that our little miss fortune?" he seemed to remember now.

"miss fortune? that's not the best way to describe me but okay. i'm in a hurry, but i'd like to meet you tonight at the tea shop where we went about a month ago. bye!" you rushed inside without saying anything else.

"hey! when should i come?"

your father grinned at him and the guitarist left the shop.

why did i say that..? the man thought to himself. i probably sounded desperate to see her or something. ugh...

he made his way towards the local bar where he and his bandmates would usually hang out. maybe he could kill some time before heading to the tea shop. he just wanted to lay on a couch for a while but couldn't say no to a pretty lady who wanted to share her bottle of jack daniels with him.

"waiting for someone, handsome?"

"i'm waiting for someone, actually."

"hm, unpunctual people are not up to good."

"actually, i don't know why am i waiting."

"are you waiting for a date?"

"i don't think it's a date, just a hangout."

"well, i don't think you should wait too long for a hangout. you have nothing to do better?"

"guess no"

"well, i think there is." the lady smirked at him before attacking his neck with kisses and bites. the man threw his head back and inhaled. he gave her more permission to attack. eventually, he got turned on, pulled her head off, and connected their lips before heading to the nearest toilet.

it was almost 9 p.m. and only now did he remember he needed to go after washing his face. his head was exploding. he still didn't know why he was heading there. he certainly did not have feelings for you. he didn't find you super attractive, and he didn't find a reason to hang out with you often.

were you friends? he also didn't think so. maybe you would complain about him to his father like a little girl, and then your father would forbid him to come to his shop? that thought was hilarious to him.

after about half an hour, he was standing before the tea shop. when he looked through the window, he saw no one there except a ginger employee. he then hesitated but entered inside.

"i'm sorry sir, but we're closing here after ten minutes." the ginger woman told him before going to the personal room to change her clothes.

he huffed at himself. it was just a waste of time for him. why did he even bother? he asked this question to himself for the nth time.

he made his way to the door but stopped once he heard a door opening sound from behind. he returned his face to the sound and saw you with a shocked expression, but it turned into a relaxing small smile.

"you came..."

"you called."

then your ginger friend got out of personal room and tapped your shoulder. "we're closing in ten minutes. make your last order, then close the shop, alright?"

you nodded. "good night!"

"good night!"

you both watched her leave, then looked at each other awkwardly. "i thought you wouldn't show up."

"i planned to come here earlier, but..."

"but..." you repeated after him and got closer to him. your happy face dropped off. you looked at his neck full of hickies. "guess mosquitoes nagged you." you gave him a small smile.

"oh, is that much visible? my friends will tease the shit out of me."

you didn't reply and made your way toward the cash point. "what can i make for you?" 

he looked at the tea chart for a couple of seconds. "you know what? make the tea we both drank when we were here."

"i don't remember which we drank."

"then make your favorite. make two cups of them."

"oh? you seem pretty thirsty." you teased him.

"nah, that's for you. you treated me that time. now i want to repay."

you nodded. "oh, so that's why you came here. to repay me."

this thought never passed through his mind but he chose to lie. "yeah, pretty much." you didn't look up to him but nodded.

after a couple of minutes, you put two cups of tea on the tray and went to where he was sitting. you placed his tea in front of him. "thank you."

you sat next to him. admiring people from afar. a lady and her boyfriend were clinging to each other to get warm. an old lady was struggling with her walker and her son (or someone else) was trying to help her. three children running on pavements while laughing (why were they outside at this hour?)

but he could care less about the outside. he was admiring you. he was admiring how soft your expression was. how you looked cute when you're puffing the steam from tea. how slowly you're drinking it, but it is still hot, and you manage to burn the tip of your tongue a little bit. he chuckled at himself.

"what's funny?" you pouted at him.

"you. you're funny."

you rolled your eyes at him. "you're annoying, mind your business."

"what happened to your lovey-dovey attitude? i still remember that kiss." he teased you.

"ugh, don't remind me. i cringe every time i remember this. god knows what was i thinking... besides, i know that meant nothing to you."

"ooh, how do you know that?"

"because you would try to contact me, at least passing by that music shop. but you never did these for the past month. you just chased some mosquitoes, and they chase you back."

he laughed at this. "why do i feel like we're arguing like we're actually a couple?"

you didn't know how to reply, so you continued to sip your tea. you didn't talk until you finished your tea. you looked at his side and saw that his cup was full.

"you didn't even take a sip."

"i waited for it to be cold."

"trust me, it is now. but i have to close the shop. drink it or give it to me." you said while reaching your hand to him. but he quickly grabbed the cup and drank it all at once.

your mouth was wide open. you blinked a few times. "this is not some tequila okay?! you can't just one-shot it!"

"who says?" he replied while heading to the cash point. you followed him there and finished your cleaning and checking the last things before heading door with him.

after locking the door you looked at him. you thought he wanted to say something so you waited patiently.

"thank you." was all he said. you lowered your head, and smiled at yourself. "i shall thank you. for the free tea."

"i forgot to thank you at that time. and i thank you now for your kindness."

he would never thought these words would actually leave his mouth. like, he was a completely different person now.

"you're welcome, i hope you enjoyed your tea."

"trust me, i did."

"well, i'm glad." you looked at him now. after a brief moment of silence, you coughed. "i should get going. you should too. don't drink too much at this hour. huh, why would you listen to me?" you lowered your voice at the end but he heard it anyway.

"i already drank today. and i have no desire to drink again. not now, but surely tomorrow."

"alright, good night saul. take care."

you smiled again and started to walk on your way. "wait!" you heard him calling you so you stopped. he immediately came next to you.

"would you want me to company you?"

you chuckled at yourself. "i do not want to waste your time."

"trust me, you won't."

what was that again? what did he just say? he completely agreed that he was just someone else right now. but his stomach got hurt so much when you sincerely smiled again. it wasn't pain, it was something else. it feels like something quivers in his stomach and the breath from his lungs is leaving.

he feels exhilaration.

"are you okay? you're trembling," you asked him worriedly, caressing both of his arms.

he feels like he is about to explode.

"the weather- yes, the weather is... getting cold. we should get going."

"look, you don't have to come with me. my house isn't far from here anyway. you're shaking. just find a cab and head to your home. you won't be happy when you get sick and you have to be at the studio at that moment."

oh how sincere you were in your words and how caring you were towards him.

"i'm gonna be fine," he smirked and you both started to walk next to each other.

both of you didn't talk. although the silence wasn't disturbing. it was a comfortable one. million thoughts were flying inside his head right now. he was mainly thinking about your current situation. what you two were? what you were to him? was this feeling temporary? was this feeling gonna hunt him constantly? he didn't know.

the only thing he knew was that he had to find a reason to hang out with you again.

he wanted to know more about you. wanted to hear about your college life and lessons. want to know about your family and friends. wanted to know your favorite color, food, animal, movie, and more. he wanted to learn about you more.

"are you feeling warm yet?" you broke the long silence. but it seemed like he was in his deep thoughts.

"saul?" you called him. he then came back to reality and looked at you. "

"huh? excuse me, i was thinking about something."

"i asked if you're feeling warm yet."

"oh, yeah. pretty much."

"good."

a silence occurred between you once again. this time, he broke it. with saying something unexpected.

"although i would feel completely warm if you make me a soup."

you laughed hysterically. "i bet those chicks make hella delicious soups."

"nah, i don't think so. i want to try your meals someday."

he didn't care about it anymore. he didn't care anymore if he was being someone else. he liked it

"someday... someday seems cool."

"your behavior did really change. i would lie if i say i don't miss the old lovey-dovey miss fortune [name]."

"h-huh? don't call me miss fortune. i'm not interested in that stuff that much now. besides, unlike you, i love this saul."

"oh? you don't like my old me?"

"he was salty, but he was okay. i would still hang out with him."

he couldn't hide his smile but managed to hide his slightly flushed cheeks. even if he was being like this, or normal himself, you would still be next to him.

finally, you both were standing in front of your house. you inhaled and looked at him. "thank you for your accompany."

he just shrugged, couldn't find anything to say. so you cleaned your throat. "good night, saul. take care."

"you too, good night."

you smiled and before you pulled the door he called you by your name. you turned your head at him.

"no good night kisses?" he asked with a cheeky tone. you just rolled your eyes at him playfully. "don't tease me, boy, now go and get some sleep."

"woah woah woah woah- you know what it feels like to me? like i just skipped a big part of a romance novel." duff laid on the couch, almost going to sleep right there.

"i know it happened in one night but, i'm telling you. this time, wasn't like the first time. the first time i really wanted to walk away from there. but this time, i didn't want it to end."

"congratulations on your new hook-up then. just know, i'm gonna make it shorter by saying she's the last person to fall in love with."

"hey, mind your own business!"

"fine fine..." the bassist yawned loudly before slowly drifting off.

they didn't talk for a few minutes since saul was lost in his thoughts again. then something clicked in his mind.

there weren't two versions of him. there wasn't this cheeky and normal saul. there was only one. and that only one have…

he broke the silence.

"dude, i think i've fallen in love with her for real."

the bassist woke up and dropped his bottle of vodka to the floor. "you what?!"

[butterphii]

Sweater

TW: Cussing, extreme fluff, cutie patootie Ellie and fem reader, Joel/Tommy reference, lesbians.

This is my first time writing Ellie! I apologize if it isn't good, also it's very short, so I apologize for that too!

------------------Ellie Williams------------------

Your sweater was heavy. Very thick and very fluffy. It was Ellie's favorite. You always wore it on days in the winter you knew would be hard for her, like this day in particular.

The sweater was amazing for outside wear, and not very practical for inside time. So, you wore it when taking care of your shared farm and shoveling snow, then shedding the second skin as soon as you walked into your front door.

While very eagerly taking off the boots that stuck to your bare feet, Ellie walked through the door, bumping your butt with the corner. "Sorry, babe. Ain't mean to do that." She said, her accent poking through that she had grown accustomed to because of your favorite (sort-of) father in law, Joel.

"All good, love." You had a soft British hint to your voice, from living in England all through your college years. "How was work?" You peeped out as she hugged your waist close. "Very tiring. I need a hot chocolate and cuddle time." She said in a joking tone, but she definitely meant it.

Walked to the kitchen with her attached to your hip, you bopped her head with a wooden spoon. "Oww!" She whined, clearly overreacting. You rolled your eyes tiredly and got to making her hot chocolate. "I made a new painting today." You smiled, adjusting the shirt you had in that had been progressively rolled up from the sweater and your impatient wife.

Pouring the hot milk into her favorite mug riddled with cocoa powder and sugar, she once again, annoyingly, whined for you to hurry up. "Just a second, darling. It's almost like you're a child." You replied, keeping focus on the drink in front of you. You heard a very loud gasp.

Bringing the cup towards the living room couch, Ellie ran around you and hopped right where she always sits. Patting next to her, you sat down, placing the mug onto the most empty coffee table except for a fortune cookie or two from the Chinese food you shared with her, Joel, and Tommy the previous night.

Ellie quickly huddled into you, head stuffed between your arm and side, arms wrapped around your waist and legs twisted around eachother. She always chose to sit like this, except on the occasion where her head was on top of your lap.

You ran your long nails through her rough hair, combing out the little knots from hours of hard work. "Even after working in a yard for almost 12 hours a day, you still look gorgeous." You looked into her eyes when she took a sip of her drink, burning her tongue like she always did. She never learned her lesson.

She nodded happily, kissing your cheek. "Love ya." She whispered, letting you know she was already ready for bed, even though it was only 5:30 P.M. You kissed her forehead, letting her sleep against your warm body, her cold face leaving an invisible imprint on your side.

"Love you too, dear." You grinned softly, taking a picture of her before resting your head back and letting yourself fall asleep.