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greengoblinswifey · 4 months ago

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Between Takes- Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— you and Nicholas Chavez navigate a tumultuous on-screen rivalry that evolves into a passionate off-screen romance. amidst teasing banter and sizzling tension, a rehearsal kiss blurs the lines between acting and reality.

warnings— enemies to lovers, unprotected sex, oral(f receiving), L bombs, fluff, established relationship.

You and Nicholas play rivals in a popular Netflix show. Your characters are constantly butting heads, with heated confrontations in almost every scene. The fans love the tension, and it’s one of the key dynamics of the show. Behind the scenes it’s the same, but there’s an undeniable spark between the two of you, though neither of you admits it. You’ve developed a bit of a love-hate relationship on set, filled with teasing, sharp comments, and banter that everyone assumes is just your way of staying in character though sometimes it gets overbearing.

One day, after a particularly intense scene, you find yourself doing an interview for a popular entertainment magazine. Sitting across from the interviewer, you try to maintain your composure, but the thoughts of Nicholas linger.

“So, how’s your chemistry with your co-star, Nicholas?” the interviewer asks, a teasing glint in her eye.

You chuckle, rolling your eyes slightly. “Honestly, working with him is like wrestling a bear. He’s arrogant, sometimes late, and way too confident for his own good. The edits are getting to his head.”

The interviewer laughs, and you realize you might have said a bit too much. But it’s all in good fun, right?

“And what about those heated confrontations you have on screen? Are they as fiery off-screen?”

You smirk. “Oh, absolutely. We love to argue. I think it’s half the reason the show is so popular and we’re able to make the show as real as possible.”

The interview ends, and as you step out, you see Nicholas leaning against a wall, arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

“So, I heard your little interview. Arrogant, huh?” he teases, raising an eyebrow.

You cross your arms, feigning indifference. “What can I say? It’s a talent of yours.”

“And what about that kiss scene we have to rehearse today? Think you can handle it?” His voice drops lower, a challenge hanging in the air.

You raise an eyebrow, feeling a rush of excitement. “Please. I’m not the one who needs to worry about handling it.”

As the day progresses, you can’t shake the tension in the air. During a break, Nicholas corners you in the hallway. “You know, I didn’t appreciate what you said in the interview,” he says, his voice low and serious.

You smirk. “I thought we were just having fun. Can’t handle a little friendly competition?” His gaze sharpens, and he steps closer. “It’s not just competition, is it? There’s something more.”

“Like what? A deep-seated desire to kiss my rival?” you reply, your voice laced with sarcasm.

But beneath the teasing, you both feel it, an electricity that has been building over time.

“You might just find out how good I am at kissing,” he says, smirking again, and your heart races at the thought.

The real shift happens during a major storyline arc where your characters have to share a kiss, something neither of you expected. As you both prepare for the rehearsal, the tension is palpable.

When it’s time to kiss, the world around you fades away. The rehearsal kiss is intense, full of the chemistry that’s been simmering beneath the surface. Your heart races as his lips touch yours, igniting something deep within. It’s a spark you’ve both tried to ignore, but now it feels undeniable.

As the kiss breaks, you both stand there for a moment, breathless. “Well, that was, unexpected,” Nicholas says, running a hand through his hair, his usual confidence wavering.

“Yeah, I didn’t think it would feel like that,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nicholas takes a step closer, the air thick with unspoken words. “So, does this mean we’re not just bitter ‘enemies’ anymore?”

You chuckle softly, a smile creeping onto your face. “I guess it depends on how we handle the rest of the season.”

Nicholas smirks, leaning in slightly. “I can handle a lot, trust me.”

“Oh, I bet you can,” you reply, your voice playful but laced with flirtation.

The banter continues, but the teasing has a new edge to it now, hinting at the deeper connection you've both begun to acknowledge. The lines between acting and reality blur, transforming your playful rivalry into something far more passionate.

As you navigate your way through the show, the tension between you escalates both on and off the screen. The two of you find excuses to be near each other, whether it’s rehearsing lines or grabbing coffee between takes. Each moment feels charged, filled with unsaid words and lingering glances.

One evening, after a long day on set, you find yourselves alone in your trailer. Nicholas is leaning against the door, a mischievous grin on his face.

“You know, I think the show would be much better if we had more moments like that kiss,” he says, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“What are you suggesting? We start kissing off-camera too?” you shoot back, your heart racing at the thought.

He steps closer, closing the distance. “Maybe we should. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s watching.” You feel your breath hitch as he inches closer, the teasing in his eyes replaced by something deeper.

“Okay, then. Show me what you’ve got,” you challenge, heart pounding.

Nicholas leans in, capturing your lips again, and this time it’s not just for the cameras. It’s heated, passionate, and everything you’ve both been holding back. In that moment, you both know that the rivalry has turned into something much more complicated, and exciting. As you pull away, breathless and wanting more, you can’t help but wonder what this means for both of you moving forward.

A couple of weeks pass, and while your relationship deepens, it remains primarily physical with lots of kissing but no further progression. As the season approaches its finale, excitement and uncertainty linger in the air.

The end of filming party is at a lively club, filled with cast and crew celebrating the end of a successful season. Music pulses through the air, laughter and chatter surround you as you enjoy the night. You and Nicholas are together, and the playful touches become more frequent. He brushes his fingers against your arm as you talk, igniting warmth in your skin.

As the night goes on, you find yourselves in a corner booth, drinks in hand, laughter spilling between you. Suddenly, Nicholas pulls you closer, his hand resting on your thigh.

“I can’t believe we actually made it through that entire season without killing each other,” he jokes, his voice low and teasing. You lean in, a smirk on your lips. “I think I’ve managed to tolerate your presence.”

He raises an eyebrow, his expression playful yet serious. “Tolerate? Is that all? Because I think we both know it’s more than that.”

In a moment of spontaneity, you lean forward, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. The atmosphere around you dims, and all you can focus on is the way his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer. Gasps and laughter surround you, but you’re lost in the moment, oblivious to the eyes of the other guests.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, and a mixture of surprise and excitement dances in the air.

“Looks like we’re the talk of the party,” you say, glancing around at the surprised expressions on your co-stars’ faces.

“Let them talk. I don’t care,” he replies, his eyes dark with desire.

You share a lingering look, and before you know it, the night wraps up and you’re making your way back to your hotel room together. On the way, Nicholas receives a call for a quick interview about the season’s finale.

“I just have to say a few things. You good with that?” he asks, glancing at you.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you reply, your heart racing as he steps aside to take the call.

As he speaks, you catch snippets of what he’s saying.

“I just want to take a moment to say how much I admire my co-star,” he says, his tone sincere. “She’s incredibly driven, intelligent, and truly talented. I feel honored to have shared the set with someone as smart and passionate as her.”

You can’t help but smile, warmth spreading through your chest at his words. He finishes up the call, walking back toward you, a proud grin on his face.

“What did I miss?” he asks, wrapping his arm around you as you walk into the hotel.

“Just a little praise from your biggest fan,” you tease, leaning against him.

You both enter your hotel room, and the atmosphere shifts again, the earlier tension returning.

“I really appreciate what you said in that interview,” you admit, your voice softening.

Nicholas steps closer, a serious look in his eyes. “I meant every word. You’ve impressed me in ways I didn’t expect.”

Without another word, you lean in, kissing him deeply. The kiss ignites something fierce between you, and suddenly, he’s all over you, hands roaming, breath hot against your skin.

“I want you so bad,” he murmurs against your lips, his desire palpable. “I’ve been aching for you.”

Your heart races as you pull back slightly to meet his gaze, desire burning in your eyes. “Then let’s not waste any more time.”

Nicholas pulls you in for another kiss, his hands gripping your waist as he backs you against the wall. The kisses become frantic as you lose yourselves in the moment, and soon enough, you’re moving to the bed.

Clothes are shed in a frenzy, and as you tumble onto the soft sheets, Nicholas takes his time exploring every inch of your body. He kisses a path down your stomach, sending shivers down your spine. When he reaches your core, he takes his time, skillfully working you to the edge. “You taste so good,” he whispers, his breath warm against you.

You’re surprised at how skilled he is with his tongue and he makes sure to use it to plunge inside you, drawing the sweetest moans from your lips. Your hands grip his hair and you grind against his face, his groans against your pussy making you shiver and squirm. The world melted around you, all you could focus on was the pleasure he was making you feel,

You feel the wave of pleasure building, and as you climax, you gasp his name, feeling your body quake beneath his touch.

Afterward, you’re both a tangle of limbs, breathless and glowing. Nicholas wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you catch your breath.

Once the haze of passion begins to settle, he looks deep into your eyes. “I want you to be my girlfriend,” he says, sincerity etched in his features. You smile, feeling a rush of happiness. “I’d love that.”

After a passionate night together with Nicholas eating you out, you both navigate your way through the press runs filled with playful touches and stolen kisses. Finally, the season premiere arrives, and excitement buzzes in the air.

As you both prepare for the red carpet, butterflies flutter in your stomach. You glance at Nicholas, who looks stunning in a tailored suit. He catches your gaze and smirks, making your heart race.

“Ready to blow everyone’s minds?” he asks, his confidence radiating. You roll your eyes playfully. “As if I’d let you steal the spotlight.”

The two of you step onto the red carpet, and a hush falls over the crowd as cameras flash. The buzz is palpable as reporters and fans whisper, remembering the long-standing rumors that you and Nicholas didn’t get along.

You strike a pose together, your bodies instinctively leaning into one another. “You both look amazing!” a reporter shouts. “Can you tell us about your chemistry?”

Nicholas glances at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s just as fiery off-screen as it is on-screen. Isn’t that right?” You nod, smirking. “Let’s just say it’s been a wild ride, but we make it work.”

As the cameras continue to flash, Nicholas takes your hand, pulling you closer. Suddenly, he leans in and kisses you, catching everyone off guard. Gasps and cheers erupt from the crowd, and the whispers of shock turn to delight.

“What’s this? Are you two an item now?” another reporter calls out, excitement in their voice.

You break the kiss, breathless but grinning, and glance at Nicholas.

“Guess we just made it official,” he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You both continue down the red carpet, posing and kissing, basking in the spotlight as the rumors of your on-set rivalry dissolve into cheers of support.

During interviews, the two of you take turns praising each other, the chemistry undeniable. “She’s incredibly talented,” Nicholas says, his voice full of admiration. “I’m lucky to have her as my co-star.”

You blush at his words, feeling warmth spread through you.

“Nicholas has this incredible drive. It’s inspiring to work alongside him,” you reply, your smile wide.

Then the moment of truth arrives during a live interview when a reporter asks Nicholas how he feels about this new development in your relationship.

“I feel... I feel amazing. She makes me happy,” he says, his expression earnest. Then, almost as if he’s caught up in the moment, he blurts out, “I love her.”

Silence falls for a split second before your eyes widen in surprise. He blinks, realizing what he just said. “Uh, yeah, I love you,” he repeats, a mix of disbelief and affection in his voice.

“You do?” you ask, your heart racing. He nods, sincerity flooding his gaze. “Yeah, I really do.”

You’re momentarily taken aback, but then a smile spreads across your face, and you lean in, capturing his lips in a kiss as the crowd coos and cheers.

“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips, and everyone around you erupts in “Awws!”

The premiere ends on a high note, filled with excitement and love. As you both head back to the hotel, the energy is electric.

Once inside your hotel room, the door closes behind you, and Nicholas pulls you in for a passionate kiss.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are tonight,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands caressing your waist.

You shiver at his touch, feeling desire surge through you. “And you’re absolutely irresistible.”

Nicholas grins, his eyes dark with hunger. “I want you, all of you.”

With urgency, you both shed your clothes, losing yourselves in the heat of the moment. As he pulls you onto the bed, he worships your body with soft kisses and sweet words.

His pumps his cock a few times before rubbing the glistening tip on your wet pussy before slowly pushing in.

“You feel so good,” he breathes, his lips trailing down your neck. “You’re everything I’ve wanted.”

You moan softly, feeling the heat rise between you.

“And you’re all mine,” you reply, looking into his eyes with fierce determination.

You gasp his name as he starts to rut into you softly, his forehead on yours and you stare into each other’s eyes. He was your entire world, everything faded away as you felt his cock brush you cervix and his fingers reached between your bodies, rubbing your clit slowly.

With a shared understanding, you both fall into a rhythm of passion, bodies moving in perfect harmony. His hands explore your curves as he whispers sweet nothings, making you feel cherished and desired.

“You’re so so beautiful baby, I love you, you’re everything to me.”

The words almost bring you to tears but the constant brushing of his cock against your g spot made you focus more on the pleasure you were feeling. “Fuck I’m gonna cum baby, I need you to cum with me, cum around my cock okay?” You nodded frantically feeling the overwhelming feeling of being near your release.

As you reach your climax, everything around you fades, and all you feel is him, his voice, and the intimacy of the moment.

Afterward, you lay entwined, breathless and content. Nicholas brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his gaze softening.

“You’re incredible. I’m so lucky to have you,” he says, kissing your forehead.

You smile, feeling a deep sense of love and belonging. “And I’m lucky to have you.”

In that moment, you both realize that you’re not just co-stars anymore; you’re partners, and this is just the beginning of your journey together.

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vibelladonna · 2 months ago

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𝒸𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓈'𝓈 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝜗𝜚 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒!

· ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── ·

This Christmas special was inspired by Valentine's Special [2nd Love Interest] by @fantasia-kitt (the creator!)

For this Christmas, I decided to write this fanfic while running errands with family for the holidays, so please bear with me if there are any mistakes.

I was thinking about writing something for New Year’s Eve, like a party fic, but I feel like this Christmas special is enough for now while I take a short break and catch up on some upcoming projects (three of them with deep plotlines!). Also, this ties in with Tkatb’s 1st anniversary, which was yesterday, the 23rd! I’m super proud of how far this little game has come.

And yes, I saw the update on the plans and progress. It looks like I might start working on some of my other favorite fandoms since the game will be on hold until the major update! I’ll still be keeping an eye on the progress as a Soulmate on Patreon, and you can always ask for a fanfic if you’d like! I’ll be responding to the messages in my ask box soon!

Anyway, happy reading! Wishing you all a wonderful holiday season!

The crisp, cool December air wrapped around you like a familiar embrace, the kind that reminded you of winter's quiet power. You stepped out of the lecture hall, your final class a fading echo behind you.

The world, for a moment, felt as if it had been held in stasis: college was finally behind you, and relief surged through your veins like a slow, satisfying exhale.

You almost burst out laughing at the thought. Thank God that's fucking over. It totally drained you, and ate away at your insides until you felt there was nothing left but pure exhaustion. But then, as it all started to sink in, this weird emptiness crept up, like that quiet moment right before a storm hit.

The goodbyes, those last waves, and parting words were still stuck in your chest, kinda just out of reach, weighing on you like you were still tied to something that wasn’t done.

Then your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked down at the screen and spotted Brittney’s name.

— Brittney: REMINDER! Gift exchange on Christmas Eve, my place at 7! Don’t be late, or you’ll owe me extra cookies.

You scoffed and let out a soft chuckle. Brittney had this incredible thing for making demands with a level of authority that was, somehow, oddly charming. As much as you rolled your eyes at her, you couldn’t deny that her quirks always brought a smile to your face. Still, as your gaze flicked back to the message, a groan bubbled up in your chest. You scrolled back through her earlier messages to confirm what you already knew.

"Great," you muttered under your breath. Brittney had really gone all out this year, assigning everyone a specific person to shop for, and, of course, you ended up with Crowe.

You exhaled, frustration bubbling up. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him—he was one of your closest friends—but trying to find a gift for someone who had everything felt like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. You could almost hear his voice in your head, teasing, cutting through whatever you picked out: “Really? This is what you think of me?” Of course, he’d never say anything like that—but what if he didn’t like it? What if he hated whatever you got him? The thought twisted uncomfortably in your chest.

You shook your head and continued walking toward the bus stop, the weight of the decision hanging over you. Simple wouldn’t cut it, but anything too over the top would make him throw a sarcastic comment at it. You had to find something that hit that sweet spot—the kind of gift that felt thoughtful without making him retreat into one of his jokes.

As if your thoughts weren’t already tangled enough, your phone buzzed again. You hesitated, almost instinctively glancing down.

— Hyugo: Hey, what are you doing Christmas Eve? Sol and I are planning to check out the lights walk at the park. You should come!

A smile tugged at your lips. Typical Hyugo—direct, unfiltered, full of energy. His message was as breezy as his personality. And then there was Sol’s name, and that grin only deepened. The two of them together were a comedy show on legs—Sol’s quiet balance countering Hyugo’s endless whirlwind of ideas and antics.

You stood still, fingers hovering over the screen. Christmas Eve.

Oh no… For a moment, the thought of walking through the park with them, bathed in twinkling lights, was tempting. It would be the perfect kind of distraction, a night filled with laughter, just as you’d imagine. You pictured Hyugo pulling you and Sol into whatever wild antics he’d planned, Sol trying (and failing) to keep everything in check with his usual, resigned eye rolls.

But then, as your thumb hovered over the screen, your thoughts drifted back to Crowe.

Last week, in the group chat, Crowe had mentioned something cryptic about "making big plans" for the holiday. He’d shrugged it off when Brittney pressed for details, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he had something in mind that involved the whole group. You felt the weight of his words in your mind. Would it be weird to bail on him now?

You sighed, tucking your phone into your pocket as the bus stop loomed closer.

"Why is it never simple with these friend groups?" you muttered under your breath.

Now, you had two conflicting decisions on your hands: find the perfect gift for Crowe, and decide whether you were spending Christmas Eve with him and his friends or tagging along with Hyugo and Sol on their sparkling adventure.

Your mind raced with the uncertainty, and the thought of making the "right" choice felt more elusive than ever.

The mall was buzzing with the kind of chaotic energy only the holiday season could bring—families weaving in and out of stores, the sound of Christmas music drifting from every corner, and glittering displays of tinsel and fairy lights winking at you from every window.

You hadn’t stepped foot in a mall in ages—mostly sticking to the convenience of online shopping and the hunts of thrift stores—but here you were, begrudgingly dragging Brittney along in your quest for the perfect gift for Crowe.

“I still don’t get why you’re this stressed about it,” Brittney said, effortlessly balancing a caramel macchiato in one hand while gesturing with the other as she walked beside you. “It’s Jericho. He’ll probably be smiling no matter what you give him. Honestly, wrap up a rock, and he’ll love it anyway.”

You let out a long, drawn-out groan, clutching your coat tighter as you passed yet another store that screamed not Crowe enough. “That’s exactly why it’s stressful! If I give him something random, he’ll think I didn’t put any thought into it. And if it’s too thoughtful—well, you know how he gets.”

Brittney raised an eyebrow, her heels clicking against the tile floor like the beat of a very judgmental drum. “You’re overthinking it, as usual. But fine, we’ll find him something perfect.” She paused dramatically, then grinned like the cat who’d just caught the canary. “Right after we fix this.”

She motioned toward you like you were a mannequin in need of serious intervention.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, narrowing your eyes, already dreading whatever plan she was about to hatch.

“Oh, come on,” she said, practically yanking your arm as she steered you toward a clothing store. “You cannot show up to my place tomorrow night wearing your same old flare jeans-and-sweater combo in dull colors. It’s festive! It’s Christmas! You need to bring your A-game.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a small get-together,” you protested, resisting her tug.

“It is. Small but fabulous. Which is why I, as your friend, am going to make sure you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed.” She pulled a sequined dress from a nearby rack with the kind of flourish reserved for Broadway stars. “What do we think? Too much?”

You stared at the dress in horror. It was so sparkly it could probably be seen from space. You shot her a flat look. “If I wear that, Crowe will definitely never let me live it down.”

“Fine, fine,” Brittney said, laughing and tossing the dress back on the rack with the grace of a fashionista throwing a tantrum. “But you’ve got to admit, you’d turn heads.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, though a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as she tossed another, more reasonable outfit your way.

After what felt like an eternity—and after Brittney vetoed every “boring” outfit you tried to pick—finally, you emerged from the dressing room with a pretty outfit, you both agreed with.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Brittney said, clapping her hands in approval. “Chic, confident, and just a little bit mysterious. You’re welcome.”

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, tilting your head. “I guess it’s not bad.”

“Not bad?” she repeated, feigning offense. “Please, you look amazing. Crowe is going to have his jaw on the floor.”

You shot her a look, trying to hide the heat creeping up your neck. “Why are you bringing him into this?”

Brittney smirked knowingly. “Oh, please. Like you don’t know.”

You rolled your eyes, but her grin was infectious, and you couldn’t suppress the smallest of smiles.

After leaving the clothing store—with Brittney carrying your new outfit like it was her triumph—you wandered into a cozy little shop filled with knick-knacks and handcrafted items. It had that eclectic, artsy vibe that immediately made you think of Crowe.

Brittney was busy examining a shelf of scented candles when she asked casually, “So, do you ever think about dating?” You froze, nearly dropping the ceramic figurine you were holding. “Excuse me? Where did that come from?”

“I mean, it’s the holidays,” she said, shrugging as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Romance is in the air. And you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with a certain pair of guys.”

Your stomach flipped. “Brittney...”

“Come on,” she pressed, leaning against the shelf with a teasing grin. “It’s Jericho, isn’t it? Or wait—maybe that dude with the green streaks in his hair?” She paused, thinking, “What’s his name again…?” She asked. You rolled your eyes, “Sol.”

“Right, the quiet one that likes to draw…” She mentioned, “So? The prince or the artist?”

You hesitated, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Sol, with his warm, easy-going nature, always made you feel like you could be yourself. But Crowe... Crowe had a way of drawing you in, his sharp wit and creativity sparking something you couldn’t quite name.

“I... I don’t know,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Brittney’s expression softened, her teasing giving way to genuine curiosity. “Hey, no pressure. I just think... whoever you pick, they’re lucky to have you.”

As you walked through the mall, still thinking about her words, you stumbled upon something that made you stop in your tracks.

It was a gorgeous, handcrafted music box, intricately carved with a winter scene. You’d seen it before on display, months ago, and fallen in love with it. But the price tag had always kept it just out of reach. You’d told yourself it wasn’t practical—your money had to go toward rent, groceries, and textbooks, not something so frivolous.

Yet here it was, glimmering in the soft light as if waiting for you.

“What’s that?” Brittney asked, peeking over your shoulder.

You swallowed hard. “It’s... something I’ve wanted for a while. But it’s too expensive.”

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at you, then back at the music box. “Maybe it’s time to treat yourself for once. It’s Christmas, after all.”

You shook your head, stepping away reluctantly. “I can’t. I need to stick to my budget.”

Brittney frowned but didn’t push. Instead, she linked her arm with yours and said, “All right, let’s go. We’ve still got to find gifts.”

By the time you left the mall, you were exhausted but triumphant. You’d found the perfect gifts—Brittney had, of course, insisted on adding a bow to each package.

With the gifts secured, you headed home, your thoughts kept drifting back to the music box—and to the question, you couldn’t quite answer. Crowe or Sol?

Standing in front of your mirror, you smoothed the soft fabric of the outfit Brittney had picked out for you—a cozy yet stylish off-shoulder sweater black sweater dress paired with maroon tights, and a matching bow that sits on your nightstand.

It fit perfectly, hitting all the curves, and you had to admit, Brittney had an annoyingly good eye. When she handed you the bag earlier, she had waved away your protests with a grin.

“Think of it as a gift,” she’d said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I had no clue what to get you anyway, so this counts. You’re welcome.”

You laughed at the memory as you reached for the maroon bow. It was a small, thoughtful gesture from her, but it carried more weight than she probably realized. Brittney always had a way of showing her care through actions, even if she hid it behind sarcasm.

Your gaze shifted to your phone on the dresser, the screen still lit up with Hyugo’s text. You tapped your nails on the dresser, reading the message again and again. The idea of strolling under the glowing canopy of Christmas lights was tempting. Hyugo’s steady, dependable presence had always been a source of comfort, and Sol...

Your chest tightened slightly at the thought of Sol. He wasn’t the loudest or the most expressive, but he had a quiet way of showing he cared. Whether it was walking on the side of the road closest to traffic or remembering your favorite snacks when you studied late, Sol went out of his way to protect you in the subtlest ways.

But then there was Crowe.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, sighing softly as you adjusted the collar of your sweater dress. Crowe was the opposite of Sol in many ways—charismatic, quick-witted, and always so present. He had a way of being there when you needed him most, whether it was cracking a joke to pull you out of a bad mood or reminding you to take care of yourself when you pushed too hard. Crowe didn’t just care about you; he saw you.

Your brush stilled in your hand as your thoughts tangled. Sol, with his quiet strength and unspoken devotion, versus Crowe, whose vibrant energy and unwavering support had become a constant in your life. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt torn like this, but tonight, with everything hanging in the air, the question loomed larger than ever.

You placed the brush down and reached for your phone. Your thumb hovered over the screen, Hyugo’s text still unanswered.

The truth was, both options held their kind of magic. You could picture yourself with Sol and Hyugo, laughing as Sol attempted to grab a runaway balloon from a vendor at the Christmas lights. But you could also imagine spending the night with Crowe and the rest of the group, his familiar presence anchoring you as the chaos of the party swirled around you, perhaps playing games and catching up.

Would Crowe be disappointed if you didn’t go?

You bit your lip, closing your eyes for a moment as you let out a long breath. There wasn’t a perfect answer, and no amount of overthinking would make the choice any easier. Finally, you set the phone down with a soft thud and looked back at your reflection.

“Just go with your gut,” you murmured to yourself.

As you adjusted your clothes in the minor one last time, you headed to your living room. You put on your leather boots, then grabbed your coat, and you made your way toward the door. No matter what decision you made tonight, you knew one thing for certain: the holidays weren’t about the lights, the gifts, or even the plans—they were about the people who mattered most to you.

And whether that person was Crowe or Sol... maybe the night would help you figure that out.

If you picked Crowe!

You stood in front of your front door, staring at your phone screen as your thumb hovered over the keyboard. Hyugo’s invitation sat open on your messaging app, the words staring back at you like a challenge.

Spending Christmas Eve with him and Sol sounded wonderful. The idea of walking under glowing lights, sharing laughter and stories, and basking in the quiet warmth of their presence was so tempting. You could already picture Sol’s quiet, steady energy and Hyugo’s easygoing humor, balancing each other out like always.

But then there was Brittney’s party. She had been planning it for weeks, texting in all caps about the details and how “NO ONE was allowed to skip out unless they wanted to face my WRATH.” And Crowe… well, Crowe had been unusually involved in the group chat about the exchange. You could sense his subtle excitement, even though he’d never admit it outright.

Your heartfelt caught between two equally important choices. One evening with Hyugo and Sol would mean stepping away from the rest of your friends, missing out on the little traditions that had brought you all closer. And yet, declining Hyugo’s invitation felt like a lost chance to make a special memory with him and Sol.

Biting your lip, you finally typed out a reply, your fingers moving hesitantly:

— You: I’d love to, but my friends already planned something. Maybe next time?

You stared at the message for another moment before pressing send, a pang of guilt twisting in your chest.

It wasn’t long before your phone buzzed with Hyugo’s response:

— Hyugo: Got it. Have fun!

You smiled softly at the screen, some of the tension in your chest easing. Hyugo was always so understanding—steady and reliable, no matter the situation. But before you could set your phone down, it buzzed again.

The name flashing on the screen made your stomach flip.

Sol.

You hesitated for a beat before answering. “Hey,” you said, keeping your tone light despite the sudden tightness in your throat.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice calm but noticeably quieter than usual. “I just wanted to check... So, you’re not coming tonight?”

Your chest tightened further at the faint thread of disappointment in his tone. “I’m really sorry, Sol,” you said, sighing softly. “I already have plans with others friends. I don’t want to bail on them.”

There was a pause, long enough for your heart to sink. When Sol spoke again, his words were careful, and understanding, but there was no hiding the sadness that laced his tone. “It’s okay. I get it. Maybe we can hang out another time.”

The lump in your throat grew heavier. “We definitely will,” you promised quickly, wishing you could say something to lighten the weight you could feel in his words.

In the background, you heard Hyugo’s voice. “Is that them? Gimme the phone.”

There was a rustling sound before Hyugo’s familiar warmth came through the line. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said with an easy chuckle. “We’ll survive without you. But next time, no excuses, okay?”

The lightheartedness in his tone made your shoulders relax slightly. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, relieved by his usual charm. “Thanks, Hyugo. Have fun tonight, okay?”

“You too!” he teased before adding, “And try not to let your friends drag you into too much chaos. See you soon.”

The line clicked, leaving you standing in the quiet entryway of your apartment. You lowered the phone slowly, staring at it for a moment longer as an ache settled in your chest. Sol’s voice lingered in your mind, soft and careful, and you couldn’t help but wish things could have been different.

But tonight, you reminded yourself, was about being with the others, about keeping the traditions you’d built with them alive. With a deep breath, you slipped your phone into your pocket and grabbed your coat, stepping into the night air with a mixture of anticipation and bittersweet longing swirling in your heart.

The evening of the party arrived, and as you approached Brittney’s house, the warmth and energy of the gathering spilled out onto the deck porch. Golden light glowed from the windows, the cheerful hum of music and laughter drifting into the chilly December air. You paused for a moment at the door, pulling your coat tighter around yourself as you gathered your thoughts.

With a steadying breath, you knocked. A moment later, the door swung open, and there was Brittney, her face lighting up with her signature, effervescent grin.

“Finally! I thought you’d never get here,” she said, already reaching to help you with your coat.

“Sorry, I was—”

“Fashionably late,” she interrupted, her eyes scanning your outfit. A satisfied hum escaped her lips as she appraised you. “Now this is what I’m talking about. You’re stunning.”

You laughed softly, slipping out of your coat to reveal the gorgeous outfit Brittney had insisted on picking for you—a soft black off the shoulder dressed, paired with maroon tights with an matching bow that made you feel both elegant and confident. She handed you a pair of house shoes, the ones you knew she kept around for occasions like this.

“I feel like I’m overdressed,” you said lightly, but Brittney shook her head, waving a dismissive hand.

“Overdressed? Please. It’s Christmas. You’re perfect.”

Before you could respond, a familiar voice cut through the cheerful din behind her.

“Hey, you made it.”

Your gaze shifted, and there stood Crowe. For a moment, you simply stared, taking him in. He wore an azure button-up shirt, paired with a black vest that complemented his rich brown skin, the deep hue drawing out the warm tones of his deep blue eyes. A sapphire brooch glinted at the center of a meticulously tied black bow around his collar, and his long hair was pulled into a low ponytail, tied back with a matching azure ribbon.

In his hands, he held a small bouquet of blue irises.

Your breath caught, and as he stepped closer, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his outfit . “Wow,” you murmured. “You look... princely.”

Crowe raised an eyebrow, his usual smirk faltering as a flicker of warmth crossed his expression. “And you look...” He paused, his gaze lingering on you before softening. “Really beautiful.”

“Only tonight?” you teased, raising an eyebrow and tilting your head.

His eyes widened, and he stumbled over his words, flustered in a way you didn’t see often. “No, I mean—you look beautiful every day, but tonight you just—” He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck as a sheepish laugh escaped him.

You both burst into laughter, the tension easing in an instant. Brittney rolled her eyes dramatically, patting Crowe’s shoulder as she passed. “Well, my work here is done,” she said, her tone dripping with mock exasperation. “Don’t mess this up, princeling.”

As Brittney disappeared back to the living room, leaving you and Crowe in the hallway. He turned his attention back to you, holding out the bouquet. “These are for you,” he said simply.

You took the flowers carefully, the soft petals brushing your fingertips. Your eyes widened slightly as you studied the blooms. “Blue irises,” you said, your voice thoughtful. “They’re beautiful.”

He tilted his head, his smirk returning. “I thought you’d like them. They’re supposed to mean hope and trust—or something like that.”

“And wisdom,” you added, looking up at him with a smile. “The iris has been associated with wisdom and truth because of the Greek goddess Iris, who was a messenger for Zeus and Hera. And nobility, too—it’s been connected to royalty throughout history.”

Crowe’s brow lifted, clearly impressed. “Well, aren’t you just a walking encyclopedia?”

You grinned. “Maybe. But you picked well. Thank you.”

The warmth in his gaze deepened, and for a moment, it felt like the noise of the party faded away.

“You’re welcome,” he said softly.

Soon the room was buzzing with anticipation as the gift exchange began. Brittney, playing hostess to perfection, had everyone seated in a loose circle, with the mountain of brightly wrapped presents taking center stage. You were perched on the edge of a couch, trying to calm the slight flutter in your chest as the turn order worked its way closer to Crowe.

When his name was finally called, he shot to his feet with his usual flair, bowing dramatically as the room cheered. “Thank you, thank you,” he said, waving his hand like a performer accepting applause. “But this isn’t about me—it’s about you all witnessing the unveiling of my superior gift-giving skills.”

Brittney rolled her eyes. “Just get on with it, princeling.”

Crowe smirked at her before his gaze flicked to you. A mischievous glint lit his deep blue eyes as he strode toward you, a carefully curated basket in his hands. He stopped in front of you, his grin softening into something a little more sincere.

“This one’s for you,” he said, holding the basket out with a slight flourish.

You blinked, surprised as you took the basket from him. “For me?”

He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “Well, yeah. You’re hard to shop for, so don’t judge me too harshly, okay?”

You set the basket on your lap and began pulling back the tissue paper, and your eyes widened as you took in the contents. Inside were all your favorite things—snacks you couldn’t resist, small trinkets in your favorite color, and even a notebook that perfectly matched your aesthetic.

“Crowe...” you murmured, already feeling a warmth spreading in your chest. But as you moved the tissue paper aside further, your gaze landed on something at the center that made your breath hitch—a beautifully crafted music box.

“You...” You looked up at him, your voice barely above a whisper.

Crowe shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare display of nervousness. “I wasn’t sure what to get you,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re always saying you have everything you need, and every time I offer to get you something, you turn me down like I’m trying to buy your soul or something.”

A ripple of laughter spread through the room, and you couldn’t help but smile. “So, I figured I’d just... cover all my bases. You know, a little bit of everything. And, uh... I remembered how much you like little tunes and stuff, so...” He motioned awkwardly to the music box, looking anywhere but directly at you.

Your chest tightened as a wave of emotion swept over you. The thoughtfulness behind the gift—the way he’d paid attention to all the little details about you—left you speechless. Without thinking, you stood up, leaned toward him, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Crowe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, Crowe froze, his eyes wide as the room erupted into a chorus of whistles and teasing laughter. His hand flew to his cheek, and the tips of his ears turned a faint shade of red.

“Well, well, well,” Brittney said loudly, holding up her phone and snapping a picture. “Looks like Crowe’s the real winner tonight.”

Crowe groaned, glaring playfully at her. “Don’t you have a party to host or something?”

Brittney smirked. “This is hosting. Carry on, lovebirds.”

The teasing didn’t stop there. Someone shouted, “How about a speech, Crowe?!” and someone else chimed in with, “Yeah, tell us how it feels to win Christmas!”

Crowe sighed dramatically, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed how much he appreciated the attention. “It feels like... a conspiracy,” he quipped, shooting you a quick, fond glance.

As the laughter died down and the gift exchange continued, you found yourself clutching the basket tightly. You caught Crowe looking at you a few times, and each time, he offered a soft, almost shy smile.

As the night wore on, the room buzzed with laughter and excitement. You sat quietly, watching the group banter back and forth, their camaraderie filling the space with a warmth that rivaled the glow of the twinkling fairy lights strung across the walls. Brittney flitted from group to group, her laughter ringing out as she teased someone about their gift-wrapping skills. Crowe’s voice cut through the chatter every so often, his witty remarks earning groans and snickers alike.

You smiled at their antics, but the warmth in your chest was tinged with a bittersweet ache. The ease with which they all interacted—the history they shared—sometimes made you feel like an outsider, no matter how much they cared for you. You still felt new. You blinked quickly, willing away the sting in your eyes, but the knot in your throat tightened, looking down at your hands.

A quiet voice broke through your thoughts.

“Hey.”

You looked up to find Crowe standing beside you, his brow furrowed, concern softening his usually playful expression. He crouched slightly to meet your gaze, his hand brushing lightly against your arm.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low so only you could hear.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile as you wiped at your eyes. “Yeah,” you said, though your voice wavered. “I just need some fresh air.”

He didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, he held out a hand, helping you up. “Come on,” he said softly, guiding you toward the door.

Outside, the crisp night air greeted you, sharp and refreshing against your skin. The muffled sounds of music and laughter from inside felt distant now, replaced by the soft rustling of trees and the faint twinkle of stars overhead.

You leaned against the railing of the porch, closing your eyes for a moment as you took a deep breath. When you opened them again, Crowe was watching you, his expression unreadable.

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. Crowe noticed immediately, his brow knitting in concern. Without hesitation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue handkerchief.

He stepped closer, his movements gentle as he raised the handkerchief to your cheek, wiping the tear away. His touch was warm and deliberate, his fingertips barely grazing your skin.

The tenderness of the gesture caught you off guard, and when he realized how close he was, his hand faltered. “Sorry, I—”

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as a small, shaky breath escaped you. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

His hand lingered for a moment longer before he pulled back, his lips curving into a small, lopsided smile. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly.

The two of you stood there in comfortable silence for a while, the cool night air brushing against your faces. Eventually, Crowe leaned against the railing beside you, his arm brushing yours as he tilted his head back to look at the sky.

“Do you know much about constellations?” he asked, his tone lighter now.

You glanced at him, grateful for the change in mood. “A little. Why?”

He pointed upward, his hand tracing the shape of a cluster of stars. “That one right there—that’s Cassiopeia. The queen who bragged about how beautiful she was and got herself in trouble with the gods.”

You laughed softly. “Sounds like someone I know.”

Crowe gasped in mock offense, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’ll have you know, I am humble to a fault.”

“Sure, princeling,” you teased, nudging him gently with your shoulder.

He grinned, his gaze drifting back to the stars. “Anyway, you’re more like Andromeda. You know, the princess who was chained to a rock but ended up becoming a constellation. Quiet strength, endless beauty... and the kind of person you can’t help but notice.”

Your breath hitched slightly at his words, and when you turned to look at him, his eyes were already on you, warm and sincere.

“I...” You hesitated, your emotions threatening to spill over again. But instead of speaking, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small box.

“I almost forgot,” you said, your voice steadying. “This is for you.”

Crowe blinked, surprised, as he took the box from your hands. When he opened it, his expression softened even further. Inside were two matching necklaces, one in gold and one in silver, with interlocking stars at the center.

“They fit together,” you explained, taking the gold one and clipping it around his neck. “Yours is gold and mine’s silver. I thought...” You hesitated again, suddenly shy. “I thought it’d be a nice reminder.”

Crowe’s fingers brushed the charm, his gaze flicking between the necklace and you. “It’s perfect,” he said, his voice low. “Thank you.”

The two of you stood close, the distance between you barely enough to breathe, yet it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. Your hands brushed as you admired the matching necklaces, an unspoken connection flickering between the two of you. Crowe’s lips parted, as if he was about to say something, but then he suddenly laughed, his eyes catching something in the distance.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, your head tilting curiously, the soft flicker of the holiday lights casting a warm glow on your face.

He pointed upward, his eyes mischievous. “You didn’t notice?”

Following his gaze, your eyes landed on a sprig of mistletoe hanging directly above you, its green leaves almost glowing under the lights. The realization hit you, and heat surged to your cheeks, a soft flush spreading across your skin. You looked back at him, your heart suddenly racing, and found him raising his hands in mock surrender, his lips curling into that knowing smile of his.

“You don’t have to,” he said, his tone playful but edged with something deeper, like he was daring you to take the plunge. “It’s just a tradition, you know—.”

But you didn’t let him finish.

Without a second thought, you stepped closer, closing the gap between you until you were mere inches apart. Your fingers gently cupped his cheek, and as his breath hitched, you pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was electric. Crowe froze for the briefest of seconds, as if surprised by your sudden boldness, but then he melted into it, his hands settling onto your waist, his touch firm yet careful. The world around you seemed to vanish, the only thing that existed was the sensation of his lips against yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. It was soft, tender, but there was an intensity to it—like a fire that had been smoldering, just waiting for the right moment to ignite.

His lips moved against yours, slow at first, savoring the closeness. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through the way his chest pressed gently against yours. You pulled him in closer, your hands tangling in the fabric of his jacket, as though afraid that if you let go, the moment would slip away. His body was pressed against yours now, his chest flush against yours, his strong arms securing you in place, as if to make sure you didn’t fall.

When you finally pulled back, the air between you seemed charged, crackling with unspoken words. His eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them, deeply in love and warm with something that made your heart race. He smiled, a slow, genuine curve of his lips, his voice low and tender when he finally spoke.

“I’ve been waiting for that,” he whispered, his words almost lost in the space between your lips. His hand remained at the small of your back, holding you close, his fingers warm against your skin.

Before you could even process the weight of his words, a loud voice broke through the fragile moment.

“Got it!” Brittney crowed from the window, waving her phone triumphantly as if she had just captured a moment of great importance.

You groaned, your face immediately hiding in your hands, embarrassed, but Crowe just laughed, the sound warm and carefree, his arm effortlessly wrapping around your shoulders.

“Let them watch,” he said with a grin, pulling you closer, his breath tickling your ear. “I don’t care.”

And for the first time that night, as his arm pulled you tighter against him, you didn’t care either.

If you picked Sol!

You stood motionless, phone resting in your hand, as you stared at the glowing screen.

— You: I’d love to come. When should I meet you?

Hyugo’s response came almost immediately.

— Hyugo: 6:30 at the park entrance. Can’t wait!

A small smile tugged at your lips, the kind that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You knew tonight would be special; Hyugo and Sol had a way of making even the simplest outings unforgettable. But as your gaze drifted to Crowe’s name in your contacts, the smile faded.

Crowe.

He deserved to know you wouldn’t be there. You owed him that much.

Your thumb hovered over the call button, hesitating as a pang of guilt settled in your chest. This wasn’t an easy decision, but you couldn’t be everywhere at once. Taking a steadying breath, you pressed the button and lifted the phone to your ear.

The line rang twice before Crowe answered, his familiar voice as warm and teasing as ever. “Hey, what’s up? Please don’t tell me you’re chickening out on me for tonight.”

A soft laugh escaped you, but the guilt in your tone was unmistakable. “Not exactly chickening out, but... I can’t make it. I have other plans.”

The silence that followed stretched long enough to make your chest tighten. You checked the screen to make sure the call hadn’t dropped, but then Crowe’s voice returned, quieter now.

“Oh. I see. Well, that’s okay. I mean, we’ll miss you, but it’s not Christmas without options, right?”

His attempt at lightness only deepened the ache in your heart. You could hear the subtle disappointment beneath his words, even if he was trying to hide it.

“I’m sorry, Crowe,” you said softly. “I really hope you have a great time. Merry Christmas.”

He chuckled lightly, though the usual energy in his laugh wasn’t there. “Yeah, you too. Take care, okay?”

When the call ended, you stared at the blank screen for a moment, the weight of your choice pressing on you. Crowe’s voice lingered in your mind, and for a fleeting second, you almost reconsidered. But tonight was about something different—something you couldn’t quite name yet.

Later that evening, you arrived at the park entrance, the crisp night air nipping at your cheeks as the scent of pine and roasted chestnuts filled the air. Strings of twinkling lights turned the trees into glowing sculptures, and the cheerful hum of holiday music mingled with the sound of children laughing and families chatting.

Your breath puffed in the cold air as you scanned the crowd. It didn’t take long to spot Hyugo leaning against a lamppost, his tall frame relaxed and his hands tucked casually into his coat pockets. He gave you a small wave, but it wasn’t Hyugo who drew your attention.

A few steps away stood Sol.

He was dressed impeccably, his white button-up shirt and green suit jacket tailored perfectly to his lean frame. The deep green of the jacket brought out the striking shade of his eyes, and his neatly styled ponytail only emphasized the sharp lines of his face. His bangs framed his expression, highlighting the glint of the piercings lining his ears.

But it was the bouquet in his hands that truly caught your attention. A cluster of green roses, delicate and vibrant against the cold winter backdrop.

Your heart skipped a beat as you walked toward him, your eyes widening. “Green roses,” you said softly, taking the bouquet from his hands with care. “They’re about life and growth. Hope, too.”

Sol blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise before his expression softened. A faint blush crept up his neck as he scratched the back of his head. “Yeah... I thought you’d like them.”

You couldn’t help yourself. Without thinking, you leaned forward and hugged him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

Sol froze, his body going stiff as his blush deepened to an almost crimson hue. He stammered incoherently for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as if to ground himself.

“Well, this is already adorable,” Hyugo said, his calm voice laced with amusement as he walked up. “Thanks for officially making me the third wheel tonight.”

You laughed, clutching the roses to your chest as you turned to Hyugo. “Don’t be so dramatic. Here, I have something for you.”

Reaching into the small gift bag in your hand, you pulled out a silver katana necklace. Hyugo’s brows lifted as he took it, his fingers brushing the delicate chain.

“Wow,” he said, holding it up to catch the light. “This is... really nice. Thanks!”

“Only the best for you,” you teased, grinning as he slipped it on. The chain glinted under the lights, and he adjusted it with a satisfied nod.

“Looks good on me, doesn’t it?” he said, striking a mock-serious pose.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “It does. But let’s not let it go to your head, okay?”

As the three of you began walking into the park, the weight of the earlier phone call began to ease. The twinkling lights, the crisp air, and the warmth of your friends’ presence all blended into a moment you wouldn’t forget.

The world around you transformed into a glowing wonderland of twinkling lights. Strings of bulbs wound through the trees like cascading stars, and lanterns in festive shapes lined the paths. The air was filled with the sounds of cheerful laughter, holiday music, and the occasional jingling bell from a passing sleigh ride.

Hyugo walked ahead, his easy stride and relaxed demeanor making him seem like he belonged in this magical setting. Occasionally, he pointed out displays, his commentary a mix of genuine appreciation and sarcastic humor.

“See that?” he said, gesturing to a particularly gaudy reindeer display. “That’s exactly what my family’s yard looks like. Overachieving neighbors are a real thing.”

You laughed, falling into step with Sol, who had remained quieter than usual. He walked beside you, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets now that the bouquet was safely cradled in your arms. His reddish-orange eyes flitted between the lights and you, his expression thoughtful.

“You okay back there, Sol?” Hyugo called over his shoulder, smirking. “You’re way too quiet. I’m starting to think the roses did all the talking for you.”

Sol’s cheeks flushed again, but he managed a small smile. “I’m fine. Just... enjoying the view.” Hyugo snorted. “Yeah, sure you are.”

You glanced up at Sol, catching the way his gaze lingered on you before darting away. Your heart skipped slightly, and you decided to give him a reprieve from Hyugo’s teasing. “The lights are beautiful,” you said softly, gesturing toward the canopy of stars above the path.

Sol nodded, his voice equally quiet. “Yeah, they are.”

The three of you continued along the winding path, pausing occasionally to take in the more elaborate displays—a massive tree covered in golden lights, an archway adorned with glittering ornaments, and a whimsical snowman family that had children running circles around it.

Hyugo excused himself after spotting a nearby food stall. “I’m getting hot cocoa. Anyone want some?”

You shook your head, and Sol muttered a soft, “No, thanks.”

“Suit yourselves. I’ll be back in a bit,” Hyugo said with a casual wave, leaving you and Sol alone under the shimmering lights.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged with something unspoken. Sol glanced at you, his hands fidgeting slightly in his pockets.

“You look really nice tonight,” he said suddenly, his voice shy but earnest.

You turned to him, surprised. “Thank you. You do, too.”

He smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he wasn’t sure how far to let it go. “I mean it,” he added, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. “You always look nice, but tonight... I don’t know. You’re so pretty.”

Your breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. “Thank you,” you said again, your voice softer this time.

The lights overhead cast a soft glow on both of you, the world feeling smaller and quieter. Your thoughts began to wander, and a faint ache tugged at your chest.

You’d spent so many Christmases surrounded by family, their familiar warmth and chaos filling every corner of your childhood home. This year was different. You’d made a life for yourself in the city and built relationships and traditions with your friends, but the distance from your family suddenly felt heavier than ever.

Sol noticed the shift in your expression immediately. His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly, stepping closer. “Hey,” he said gently. “You okay?”

You blinked quickly, realizing tears had started to well in your eyes. “Yeah,” you said, wiping at them with a quick smile. “I’m fine. Just... thinking about home.”

His concern deepened, and for a moment, he hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he should say anything. Finally, he reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay to miss them,” he said softly. “You don’t have to hide it.”

The warmth in his voice unraveled something inside you, and you nodded, swallowing hard. “Thank you, Sol,” you murmured.

A small smile returned to his face, and he pulled his hand back, letting the moment settle. After a few moments, you reached into your bag, a spark of excitement cutting through the heaviness in your chest. “Actually, I have something for you,” you said, pulling out a small box.

Sol blinked in surprise, watching as you handed it to him. “What’s this?”

“Open it,” you said with a grin.

He carefully lifted the lid to reveal a miniature horse keychain, painted green and black to match his colors. Sol’s eyes widened, and a small, genuine smile spread across his face.

“For me?” he asked, his voice almost disbelieving.

You nodded. “And this one’s for me,” you added, pulling out a matching keychain—a small cat painted in your favorite colors. “Now we’ve got matching keychains. To think of each other, you know.”

Sol stared at the tiny horse in his hands, his fingers brushing the smooth surface. “I love it,” he said finally, his voice quiet but full of emotion. “Thank you.”

Before you could respond, Sol reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a neatly wrapped box. “I, uh... have something for you too,” he said, handing it over.

You unwrapped it carefully, and your breath caught as the lid lifted to reveal the music box you’d been dreaming about for months.

Tears sprang to your eyes again, but this time they were filled with pure joy. You couldn’t quite believe what you were seeing. “Sol… how did you…?”

He stood there, his hands twitching nervously at his sides, the usual confidence he carried nowhere to be found. He took a tentative step closer, and the vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. “I remembered you talking about it once,” he said, his voice faltering, tinged with uncertainty. “I just thought you should have it.”

His words, the meaning behind them, hit you all at once. He was so thoughtful, so careful. But it was his panicked expression that really caught you off guard. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air, unsure whether to comfort you or retreat, his reddish orange eyes wide with worry, silently questioning if he had done too much. “I—was this too much? I just thought you’d—”

You couldn’t bear to see him like that, unsure and vulnerable, so you stepped forward, closing the distance between you. Slowly, you rose up onto your toes, your hands wrapping around his broad shoulders, grounding yourself in his presence.

Before he could finish his thought, you pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, letting your emotions guide you. His breath hitched, and for a long moment, everything seemed to pause. The twinkling lights that decorated the trees, the distant laughter of other parkgoers, even the crisp winter air—all of it faded away, leaving only the heat of his skin and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat that somehow synced with yours.

Sol froze at first, his lips still under yours, as if his mind hadn’t caught up with what was happening. But slowly, you felt him relax into the kiss. His hands, unsure at first, settled lightly on your arms, and then, as if he was grounding himself in the moment, they tightened just slightly, pulling you in closer.

His touch was little rough, but you could feel the depth of his feelings in the way his fingers brushed against your skin—like he was afraid to let go, as if the moment might slip away if he did.

When you finally pulled back, the air around you felt charged, alive with the emotion you both had been holding back. Sol stood there, his wide eyes locked on you, his cheeks flushed so deeply that even the tips of his ears had turned a deep shade of red. His chest rose and fell quickly, like he couldn’t quite process what had just happened.

“I… uh…” he stammered, his voice barely a whisper, as if words had momentarily escaped him.

A soft laugh escaped you, breaking the intensity of the moment. You wiped away the lingering tears from your cheeks, trying to steady yourself. “Thank you, Sol,” you said, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling in your chest. “For everything. For the music box, for being here… for being you.”

Sol’s lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to respond, but instead, all he managed was a shy, lopsided smile. The kind that made your heart flutter, as if his very soul was laid bare in that simple gesture.

You smiled back, your cheeks still flushed with warmth despite the winter chill, and there was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that made everything feel right, in a way you never expected.

“And for the record,” you added softly, your tone more serious now, “I care about you. So much.”

Sol’s smile deepened, and his eyes seemed to glow with a mixture of disbelief and quiet happiness. His voice, when it came, was so soft, so full of emotion, it felt like a secret meant just for you. “I’m just glad you’re here,” he murmured, his hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch warm and tender. “You’re the best muse I’ll ever have.”

His words hung in the air between you, and it felt like time itself had slowed down, each second stretching into eternity as you stood there, lost in the quiet connection you shared. The world, the winter, the chaos of everything else—it all melted away in that one moment, leaving only the feeling of his hands, his heart, and the soft glow of your shared affection.

Before either of you could say more, Hyugo’s suddenly voice cut through the tender moment, laced with amusement.

“Well, I feel like I should leave you two lovebirds alone, but... I also don’t want to walk home alone, so…”

The interruption made you laugh, the sound light and genuine as the heaviness in your chest fully lifted. Sol’s blush only deepened, and he looked down, scratching the back of his neck in his usual awkward fashion.

Your hand found his instinctively, your fingers lacing together as you turned to face Hyugo. “You’re hopeless,” you called teasingly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hyugo said with a mock sigh. “Glad you’ve finally figured that out.”

As the three of you continued along the path, Sol’s grip on your hand remained firm, his thumb brushing lightly against yours as though to reassure himself this wasn’t a dream. The lights above reflected in his eyes, making them shine like rubies against the backdrop of the winter evening.

After a few moments of quiet, Sol glanced at you, his gaze steady but laced with a familiar shyness. “Thanks for being here,” he said, his voice low but full of meaning.

You looked up at him, warmth blooming in your chest. “Of course. Where else would I be?”

He hesitated for just a second, and then, with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, he added, “…And I’m glad I didn’t have to shed any blood to win you over.”

You stopped in your tracks, staring at him in mock disbelief before bursting into laughter. “What a charmer,” you said, shaking your head.

Sol chuckled softly, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. “What can I say? …I aim to impress you alone.”

The teasing gave way to a comfortable silence as the two of you continued walking, your hands still intertwined. The world around you felt warmer, and brighter, like the holiday lights above had found a way to settle into your chest and glow from the inside out.

For the first time that night, you felt completely at peace, the bittersweet ache of the season replaced by something sweeter: the quiet, steadfast warmth of someone who cared for you deeply.

You two reached Hyugo, who was waiting by another set of light displays, waving his hand over to call you and Sol to have a closer look.

You couldn’t help but think that this chilly winter night had turned into something magical.

The soft hum of your phone was the only sound in the stillness of your room, the faint light casting long shadows across the walls as you lay there, scrolling through the pictures from the night of Christmas Eve. Each image flickered before your eyes like a fragment of time—memories that felt both distant and vivid, frozen in the glow of your screen.

The liveliness of Crowe and his friends, the way their energy seemed to fill the room and make the night brighter. Or the warmth of the park, the laughter of Hyugo and Sol, their voices mingling with the cold December air.

You felt an unexpected peace settle deep in your chest, a quiet kind of comfort.

College may have been over, for now, but something else had started to take root—connections that would stretch far beyond the walls of classrooms and lectures. Friendships that felt solid, steady, like something that might stand the test of time.

Just as you set the phone aside, your eyes began to flutter shut, your body sinking into the softness of the bed, drifting completely off to sleep.

Afterward, the soft sound at the window—a quiet rustle of fabric, the faintest click of the latch being undone. Then, a shadow moved across the room, sleek and fluid, dressed entirely in black. The figure moved with practiced ease, slipping silently through your window as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Sol.

His silhouette was barely visible against the darkness, but you could feel the presence of his mischievous grin even before he stepped into the soft pool of light in your room. He was quick, and efficient as if he had done this a hundred times before, and yet there was something undeniably thoughtful in the way he moved—careful not to disturb anything, as if he didn’t want to interrupt the calm of the night.

He stood there for a moment, just watching your sleeping figure, his eyes heart-shaped, glinting with quiet amusement. You could feel something warm in his gaze. Then, he crossed the room, slow enough not to startle you, and crouched down at the edge of your bed. His black clothing blended into the shadows, the outline of his lean figure and the small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You were deep in sleep, the world around you a blur of comforting darkness. And yet, in that dreamlike space, you could feel his presence, like a whisper threading through the silence.

"You made it through the year," his voice murmured, a soft, velvety tone that carried a weight of something unspoken—something meaningful. His words were like a gentle caress, and though you could barely register them in your dream state, they stirred something inside you, something warm, something that made you feel understood.

A movement—delicate, almost reverent—pulled you from the haze of sleep. His hand, steady and sure, reached out to you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His touch was feather-light, as though he was afraid to disturb the fragile peace of the moment. You could feel the warmth of his fingertips lingering on your skin, a soft, lingering touch that made you feel protected, and cared for, even in your slumber.

"Wishing you the best in the new year," he whispered, his voice barely audible but thick with intent.

You didn’t stir, caught in the embrace of sleep, but somehow, his words echoed through your mind like a distant lullaby. His hand dropped, and then there was a shift, the movement of him leaning forward, his presence closer now, filling the space between you.

His lips brushed against your lip, the kiss so gentle it felt like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. It was brief, fleeting, but tender—an unspoken promise, woven into the light touch, something that lingered on your skin even after he pulled away. His warmth stayed with you for a heartbeat, then another, the feeling of him still hanging in the air like a quiet echo.

For a moment, everything was still. His expression remained unreadable, as it often did, but there was something else there—something deeper, more sincere than you were used to seeing. He didn’t need to say more; his presence was enough.

"Happy New Year~” he said, his voice soft but carrying a quiet smile, one that tugged at the corners of his lips as though he knew something you didn’t. And then, as swiftly as he had come, he was gone—leaving behind only the lingering warmth of his touch and the faintest trace of his words, woven into the fabric of your dreams. Still, a smile tugged at your lips as you thought about the promise of the new year—of fresh starts and endless possibilities.

Whatever moments the future held, you knew they'd be all the more meaningful depending on who you chose to share them with.

· ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── ·

#the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back crowe #the kid at the back sol #tkatb #tkatb crowe #crowe ichabod #crowe x reader #tkatb sol #solivan brugmansia #jericho crowe ichabod #jericho ichabod #the kid at the back jericho #sol brugmansia #sol x reader #the kid at the back vn

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casualhedonists · 1 year ago

Text

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter five)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder) , MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, roughhousing, eventual piv, one chapter specific dubcon scene (pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

chapter: 5/6

words: um. 9.5k (sorry? but also you're welcome??)

chapter warnings: this chapter contains a scene that falls solidly into dubcon territory, so please proceed with caution, stay safe out there.

moodboards

series masterlist

a/n: WELL. here we are, almost at the end of our little rollercoaster ride. i've lost brain cells over this chapter, almost cut it up into smaller chunks, but ended up leaving it as long as i originally planned (longer, in fact. whoops). as always, feedback is very welcome + encouraged (i love hearing/reading your thoughts as things progress) buckle up, please do take note of the dubcon warning, prepare for the angst, and most importantly, enjoy!

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

He was back to ignoring you again.

But this time, the feeling was mutual. You’d never felt as thoroughly rejected as you did the night he had you walk back to your room, legs weak, wrapped in nothing but his shirt.

Once upon a time, this scenario would have been one you dreamed of, but reality often falls flat on its face. You wouldn’t have dreamt of walking away from him like this if you’d known it would feel this empty.

Humiliation ran rampant through your body, starting with the tears you blinked away as you left his room, closing the door behind you, and then flooding over as you stepped into your own room, slumping on the bed, curling up into yourself and weeping, pressing your still aching legs together but too upset to finish yourself off.

You kicked yourself for getting carried away, for getting too loud, too possessive with his face between your thighs and your hand in his hair. For getting so caught up in the moment, briefly forgetting your games, and for believing even for a second that you would be on the same page.

This push and pull had begun to wear you thin, and you were tired. So, you slept. Until nearly midday the next morning, when Lucille knocked on your door to remind you it was time for your monthly PR debrief.

The good news, though arguable at this point, was that your arrangement hadn’t been affected by recent events. At least, not on paper. Cordelia ran you through each gala, public appearance, and dinner, barely noticing your preoccupation, rambling on about speeches, coordinating outfits, dates and times of events, what to say and how to say it.

For you - and you could only imagine, Coriolanus too - everything had changed over the span of a month.

Your shame made you abnormally quiet, head hung low, gaze averted, nodding along as Cordelia prompted either a response or approval from you. Snow just stared, glancing at her only when completely necessary, but otherwise, he didn’t take his eyes off you.

He was enjoying this. The sick fuck. You were glad when the meeting ended and you could scamper into the library, eager to lose yourself in a story of any kind other than the one you were living.

This went on. By day, you barely looked at him; by night, you tried over and over to prove that your own fingers were enough to keep you satisfied. To convince yourself that you just wanted him, you didn’t need him.

Because if you needed him, then he called the shots. He would win. And victorious as he may seem, the game wasn’t over yet. You’d slipped up in a moment of vulnerability, he’d tricked you into a corner just to prove his point.

You wanted him, you didn’t need him. But if you did… well.

He was going to have to need you more.

You held back this time. Keeping your cards safe, close to your chest. In a strange way, you found a kind of solace in your arrangement. Recent events had caused it to feel unstable, breakable even, but the meeting had ensured that it was all still on the right track. It allowed you to take a small piece of what you wanted from him without guilt or repercussions. After all, it was planned out to benefit you both. Then, when you were ready, and with a gentle hand, you began to weaponise it, loading it up in the barrel of a gun aimed directly at Snow.

You didn't have much left, but you had this. You knew where your promiscuity had led you. This time, you wanted to pull on his heart strings. Make him feel remorse, or whatever similar emotion he was capable of. Make him soften to you. Torture him with almosts that were never enough.

So when you took, you took cautiously, tentatively. You deepened your usually light kisses to what was just past socially acceptable, only to pull back when Snow began to lean in, turning away and smiling at the people surrounding you, or full-on entering into conversation with somebody else. You'd brush your thumb against his when you held hands, waiting for him to look at you, drawing your hand away when he did. You'd offer smiles to everyone but him, talk and laugh a little louder when you could feel him watching.

You pretended he didn’t exist. You could feel him begin to simmer. It wasn't as brazen as your usual game, but it was working.

Until it wasn’t.

“Something’s wrong, what is it?”

Lucille’s face dropped, her shaking hands lowering from the zip she was struggling with. You were getting ready for a luncheon, and you’d picked out an emerald green dress, one of your favorites for daytime events.

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t notice, ma’am. I apologise. It’s my brother, he… it’s getting worse again.”

“Sit down for a second. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You listened to Lucille open up uncomfortably, visibly nervous that you would offer your financial support as you’d done before. But you didn’t, sparing her from having to turn you down.

Lucille was stubborn - she would never accept your charity. She was more than happy to work for her wages, and frequently worked longer hours. As months went by, you’d brought her pay up as high as you could without her noticing. But now things were getting more critical, and you knew there was only one thing you could do.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Go and see your brother.”

“But you’re not dressed-”

“I’ll take care of it. Go home, Lucille. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She smiled softly.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

You’d tried with the zip, you really had. You didn’t want to have to knock on Snow’s office door with two favors to ask instead of one, but the dress was tight and the zip kept getting jammed. So, there you stood, dress half undone at the back, heart in your throat. You counted your blessings; at least it wasn’t his bedroom. You didn’t think you could face him at all in there. You heard typing from inside.

“Come in.”

You pushed the door open, feeling like an intruder.

“Sorry, I just… Could you help me with this?” Your hand tightened behind your back, holding the dress together.

He narrowed his eyes. He was already in his suit, typewriter on the desk in front of him.

“Lucille forget how to do her job?”

“I don’t need snide right now. Please, Coriolanus? I’ll explain when I’m not half naked. It’s drafty in here.”

You tried to make it clear in your tone that this wasn’t some ploy. You weren’t sure you had many of those left to offer.

“Fine.” He sighed, and stood, making no motion towards you, so you crossed the room, gripping onto the fabric, turning your back to him.

His hand came to rest on your waist as the other took the zipper, and you tried not to flinch at his touch. You pressed your lips together as he carefully zipped you up, cold metal sending a chill down your spine. Or maybe that was just him. You felt your eyes slide shut and your lips part as his hand lingered on your waist. You couldn’t hear anything but your heartbeat and the tick of his grandfather clock.

“Is that okay? Not too tight?” His breath on your neck gave you goosebumps, you hoped desperately that he wouldn’t notice.

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

The second his hand fell from your waist, you missed it. You carefully met his eye; he was looking at you like you had something he wanted.

So why hadn’t he wanted you? You’d been right there, and he’d turned you down.

He cleared his throat.

“I should finish this letter before we leave. Was there anything else?”

You paused.

“Actually, there is. Could I ask you a favor?” You glanced off to the side, suddenly very interested in the knots of wood on his desk. What helped was that you'd never seen inside this room before, and you hid behind your curiosity like it was a lifeline.

“What is it?”

“It’s…” you lowered your voice, “it’s about Lucille. Her brother, actually. He’s in the hospital again. The family can’t afford the medical bills to keep him in for as long as he needs. I’d like to foot the bill, but I can’t do it anonymously. I thought… well, I was wondering if you could pull a few strings.”

You were overexplaining, something you weren’t at all used to doing, but these days, just being in the same room as him made you nervous. You stared at his desk, at the lack of photographs on it, the single pen laying to the side, the smoothness of the glaze.

It was quiet for a moment.

“Consider it done.”

You looked up.

“Really?”

“Did you think I’d say no?” He asked.

“I- no, but…”

“It’s something that matters to you.”

You blinked, dumbfounded at how simply he put it.

“Yes. It is. Thank you, Coriolanus.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll make sure it’s anonymous.”

“Thank you. Or, I mean…”

He looked at you, and you wanted to melt. Wanted to throw strategy out the window, god, but -

You couldn’t. It hadn’t worked last time. You’d hoped to avoid a stalemate, but here you were, sat right in the middle of one.

“The car’s coming in a half hour. Are you almost ready?” He asked.

“Yes. Almost.”

The luncheon was going well, at first. You were at the head of a large table, sat beside Snow, straightening your salad fork as he stood up to make a speech. You’d been glancing at him throughout the afternoon; it wasn’t so hard to anymore. It felt like his willingness to help Lucille without question, just because it was what you wanted, had more of an effect on you in five minutes than the entire week of your teasing had on him. One conversation, and the tides had changed.

As he began talking, you started to realise that your gentler approach may have been affecting you more than it had him. The party was transfixed; people loved to hear him talk, and you were proud. He had a certain way with words; you knew better than anyone. You’d fallen victim to them.

You weren’t sure why his words affected you – you’d been there, you’d agreed when Cordelia had suggested he say something nice about you in this particular speech, really make the crowd swoon, lay it on thick - but when he started to talk about you, about how proud he was to have you by his side, how strong you were-

You knew he was just reciting a script written for him, but you couldn’t help it. The tears began to quietly fall. You thanked whatever higher being was listening for not letting anyone notice.

Or so you thought.

It was just typical that out of all the people that could’ve noticed, the one person who knew better was the only one who did.

The rest of them would’ve brushed it off as you simply being moved by emotion, honored by his kind words. You blinked away your tears, taking small, polite sips of your wine. It was painful because you knew it wasn’t true. None of it was, you knew he could never say those words and mean them.

And he knew that too.

It was dark when you got home, and you trailed behind him awkwardly on your way upstairs.

“Can I have a word?” his voice was gentle, and it set you on edge.

“Sure.”

You stood awkwardly in the hallway, then he led you into the office. He leaned against his desk, and you shifted your feet where you stood, eyes on the floor, on the art on the walls, on anything other than him.

“You were upset today.” He started.

You swallowed.

“It won’t happen again, I promise.” you kept your voice steady. He paused.

“If that was my fault, I apologise. If I took it too far, if I upset you-”

You weren’t sure which part he was talking about, but you finally looked at him in a sort of distant defiance.

“Do you even care if I’m upset?”

“Of course I do. Especially when it’s something that affects you… publicly.”

You huffed, forcing yourself to stare him down.

“Because that’s all that matters, right? What the public sees?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure it is. It’s okay, Snow. I’m a big girl. And I can take a hint, too. So don’t worry about me, I’ll be just fine. Business as usual, right?”

He just stared, puzzled. You took a breath.

“Look, it’s been a long day. Can I go, or are you going to keep me here all night?”

The silence was like smoke, clouding between you. His brow furrowed, calculating. Then he sighed, long and heavy, and you tried not to let it phase you.

“Fine. Go.”

You nodded.

“Goodnight.”

You’d never been more relieved to get away from him. Your broken walls were starting to build back up. You wouldn’t let him break you, you couldn’t. You were stronger than this.

That night, for the first time, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly what you wanted.

“Darling, you look ravishing.” Lilian drawled. “It’s a pity Snow is so far across the room, and can’t appreciate you. If I dressed half as nicely as you did, perhaps my dear husband wouldn’t be screwing the maid.”

A scandalised chorus of giggles erupted from the group. It was a pretty dress, one of your best. Long and smooth black fabric, ruched at the waist, with a deep cut up the leg that was just acceptable for an evening gala. You stood tall, champagne glass in hand, gossiping with your friends.

Well.

Friends was being generous. You kept few true friends, and they would hardly be gossiping in a circle like this.

Acquaintances was a better fit. Pawns if you were being brutally honest. Politicians’ wives, senators’ mistresses, a chancellor’s daughter or two. Pieces of chess, really, in this bigger game. Anyone who could help you climb higher, whisper carefully spun words into open ears at your whim.

“I just know George would rip that dress off me the moment I got home. He might not even be able to wait, and just pull me into a closet here instead.”

Another eruption of giggles.

“Well, I’m flattered, my darlings.” You smiled. “This is one of my favorites. Coriolanus treats me well.”

“I’m sure he does,” a suggestive glance from Lilian, “in all the ways one would expect, I assume?”

You gasped in mock modesty.

“Lilian,” you drawled, “I certainly hope you’re not suggesting I disclose our-”

“Oh, just tell us dear, please. We’re all dying to know. You’re always so coy about it. What’s he like?”

You pulled your lips into a knowing smile, your perfectly painted face helping you slide into this facade. You scanned your eyes across the ballroom, across to Snow. He stood talking to a group of men, colleagues of his. You recognised their faces.

It had been four days since the luncheon. Four days since your outburst. Four days of hiding away. You’d been dreading tonight’s gala, but it gave you an excuse to dress nicely, and as soon as you’d arrived, you and Coriolanus has gone your separate ways.

“Well,” you hummed, masking your uncertainty as anticipation, “he can be a slight tease.”

A few dramatic gasps sounded through the group, and you turned back to face them, their eyes wide and expectant.

“Salacious. Do tell.” Another voice piped up with a giggle.

“He can be fun to toy with. I do enjoy pushing back, but sometimes he takes it… a little far.” You said carefully.

“My, who would have known? But you get what you want, my dear, surely.” Lilian asked.

You smiled, glancing back at him, suit pristine with a white rose in his breast pocket. You hated how good he looked. He was smiling politely at the group of men around him, but you could tell from the tick in his jaw that something was bothering him.

“Sometimes, I do. Others, I wait for my chance to push his buttons right back.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? I don’t suppose,” she pressed, “that you’re in one of those… entanglements at the moment?”

“Lilian, darling, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Another giggle sounded from the group.

“Oh, my.” Lilian repeated, glancing between the two of you. “I do hope you’ve been making him suffer.”

“Well, I’m playing a longer game this time, so I’m afraid there hasn’t been as much fun lately.”

Lilian sucked in a breath, like the perfect idea had just dawned on her.

“Well, I see no moment like the present. You’re here, you’re dressed marvellously, I propose you walk right over there and show him just what he’s missing.”

A chorus of yes and do it and we’ll cheer you ons rang out. Loosened by the champagne, you looked across the room at him again. You could do it. He wouldn’t be able to react, it would be the most perfect torture. You suddenly decided that you were done making small moves, done playing it safe like this was some schoolgirl crush. It was time to step up to the mark again. Take your power back.

Your group could sense the newfound determination in you. You smiled, slow and cunning.

Show him what he’s missing.

Simple. It’s what you did best.

“Watch and learn, ladies.”

A hush fell over the group as they watched you run a hand through your hair, handed your glass to one of them, and pressed your lips together. Before you’d left the house you’d added a swipe of red lipstick, dark red, almost bloodlike. It always made you feel more confident and tonight, you needed the pick me up.

The middle of the ballroom was practically empty; the dancing was over, and everyone had long since gathered in groups to the sides. So you turned heads when you stepped out, the only one on the floor, black satin hugging your frame like a second skin. You didn’t look at them, you made a steady beeline to Snow. You felt more and more eyes on you as you crossed the room, heels clicking on the floor. They all watched, waiting for… something. Coriolanus didn’t look up until you were a mere few steps away, now deep in some conversation he was going to forget very shortly.

Blue eyes flashed to yours with a confused apprehension, but you didn’t give yourself time to think about the twitch of his brow, or the looks on the faces of his colleagues. You didn’t think about the way he opened his mouth as if to say something, only for it to be swallowed away.

You didn’t think about any of that.

Because your lips were on his.

Hot and hungry, teeth clashing, your hand grabbing the back of his neck as he leaned in, surprised at first, then warm, wanting. Lips tugging at yours like he was starving.

It was sinful.

You’d never been kissed like this before. Your fuzzy brain wondered how you’d gone through life not knowing what this felt like, the press of his lips devouring yours, heated and messy.

He kissed you like breathing, like you were his oxygen supply. His hand slid to your waist and pulled you in, and you heard the echoes of chuckling coming from around you, morphing into a few light claps.

Then, just as you felt him fully melt into you, your hand slipped higher to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of perfect platinum curls, and tugged.

It was nothing but an affectionate display to the people surrounding you, but a brazen reminder between the two of you. It was your way of showing you hadn’t forgotten, that you wouldn’t be made to feel ashamed, to cower in a corner while he got the better of you.

Not in this lifetime.

The second it happened, his breath hitched, and his hand tensed on your waist. You were the only one who caught it, getting high off the satisfaction, finally pulling away.

You weren’t sure you’d ever seen a prettier sight; his blown-out eyes, his face stained with scarlet.

How’s that for tasting your own medicine.

Watching him attempt to collect himself was sweeter still. Watching him reset his face into one of distant amusement. He let out a small laugh, glanced at the rest of the party.

“Everything alright, doll? Had a little much champagne, perhaps?”

His colleagues chuckled, but you didn’t look their way. You stood your ground. Offered a sweet smile, but he could see your slyness.

“Oh, I’m swell. And I think I’ve had just enough, actually. I’m gonna go freshen up.”

You turned on your heel and made your way through winding halls to the bathroom, riding an adrenaline high. You picked up a glass from a server’s tray along the way – the champagne had dried out, all they were serving now was posca, which while disgusting, worked a treat to take the edge off. It wasn’t long before the door swung open and you saw Coriolanus appear behind you in the mirror.

“This is the ladies’ room, handsome.” You looked away, continuing to reapply your lipstick.

He stepped closer.

“What was that kiss about, sweetheart?” Straight to the point.

“Nothing.” You shrugged.

“Didn’t feel like nothing.”

“That’s called acting, Snow.” You rolled your eyes, vaguely aware that your words sounded a little jumbled. You put the tube of lipstick away. “We had an audience. A rather expectant one at that.”

He folded his arms.

“I don’t like it when you catch me off guard like that. Not with people around.”

“Seemed to like it plenty to me.” You mumbled.

He didn’t answer, pacing past you to the other sink, grabbing a towel and wiping it against his face, where the red had stained his skin. It only served to spread it around further, and if you weren’t already smugly entertained by the marks you’d left on him, now it was just plain funny.

He glared at you when you laughed.

“Don’t give me that look. Here,” you offered, stepping across to him, taking the towel and wetting it, “let me.”

You wiped at a patch, but he snatched the towel back and took over.

“No, you’re rubbing it too hard. It’s-” he glowered at you – “fine. Do it your way.”

You went back to lean against your sink and took another sip of posca, admiring the ornate decorations in the room. A little excessive, a little new money for your tastes.

There was a rap on the door.

“President Snow?”

“Just a minute.” He said coolly.

“You’re in a mood tonight.” You remarked, and he huffed.

“Running a country can get exhausting. Don’t expect you to understand.”

“Right.” You said flatly. “Because I’m just a brainless pawn like everybody else.”

He looked over at you, at the drink in your hand.

“How many of those have you had?”

You shrugged again, and he tossed the towel into the sink, walking over to you.

“Answer me.” His voice was stern, and for a second, you soaked it in, drenched in the danger as he approached, closing in. Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips, and your eyes followed his as he moved to stand in front of you.

“Shame you don’t have someone to let all that frustration out on, isn’t it? Sounds like that could be helpful.”

His eyes pierced yours.

“Doll-”

“I’m just saying, it’s a pity you don’t.” You moved to bring the glass to your lips, anticipating the burn in your throat, but he gently stopped your hand.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

“Posca? It’s my first glass.” You smiled, eyes batting.

“You know what I mean. I think you should stop.”

You looked at the glass, then back at him, and pried your hand away, slowly and pointedly taking another sip.

“Sweetheart.” He warned.

“What, are you punish me? Gonna make me beg for you then kick me out again? Already did that once.”

He gave an incredulous half-laugh.

“That’s what this is about? You’re not really going to be mad about that forever, are you?”

“That depends. How long is forever?”

The door knocked again, and he worked the glass out of your hand.

“Drink some water. Sober up. We’ll talk about this when we get home.”

You sighed, heading for the door, but glanced back at him, his face still a stained mess. You brushed a finger against your own cheek to mirror his.

“You missed a spot.”

You sat in silence in his office, feeling a little like a schoolchild caught misbehaving. His typing was the only sound in the room. The seat was low; almost as if it was there to point out his authority over anyone who sat in it. Knowing him, it probably was.

He’d managed to clean off the rest of your lipstick, but his face looked rubbed raw, uncomfortable. A tall glass of water sat on the desk in front of you.

“Thought you said we’d talk.”

“Not until you finish that glass. I’m not talking to you inebriated.”

“Seriously?”

He shot you a look from behind his typewriter.

“Fine. Whatever.” You reached for it and took a few sips. He looked back down again. A few folders cluttered the desk, and in your boredom, your eyes scanned them. They looked complicated; legal.

“What are you writing there anyway? Or am I too dumb to understand?”

He offered another unimpressed glance.

“It’s a new bill I’m trying to pass. Except apparently, I’m the only one around here with their head screwed on enough to work on it.”

You waited as Snow pushed the typewriter’s lever, carriage sliding the page as he began writing the next line. You sipped your water.

He sighed. “One day I won’t have to mingle with these idiots anymore. They’ll just listen to me, and obey.”

You took that in.

“Do you feel that way about me?”

He studied you for a second, and stopped typing.

“No. Not really.”

“But you wish I’d be more… compliant.” You stared at the floor.

“Not necessarily.”

“You sure? Didn’t seem to like it the other night.”

His eyes narrowed. Knowing this conversation was a game of chess like any other. But lately the stakes were higher than ever.

“Never said I didn’t like it. Just that you were out of line.”

“And where is that fucking line?” You snapped. “I’m serious, Snow, because we’ve never talked about it.”

“You want to talk, all of a sudden? Okay, sweetheart. Fire away.”

You put the glass down on the table, heavier than intended.

“I just don’t understand you, Coriolanus. I mean, first you don’t want me, then you do want me, then you don’t again. And now what? I don’t know what I’m supposed to think when you don’t give me anything to go off.”

He watched you carefully, and you wanted to shake him, to scream, anything that would give you answers. You stood, unable to sit still, and started pacing.

“You know what’s worse? I don’t even know if you want me here anymore. I don’t know how to act around you because I never know what you’re thinking. At first I thought all this, the whole push and pull, was just some control thing. But-” you laughed, airy and insane, “you know what I realised? You’ve had me fooled, Snow. All this time I thought we were equals, but now I think I finally realise.”

He frowned, waiting for you to continue.

“You pay for my company, if you think about it. We trade services, don’t we? You get something from me, I get something back. I live in your house, eat your food, wear nice clothes. At the end of the day, that’s just it, isn’t it?”

“What?”

You shrugged, tears filling your eyes as bitterness took over, so strong you could almost taste it.

“I’m no better than a whore myself.”

You’d never heard a louder silence. If that hadn’t just taken everything out of you, you’d have begged him to say something. Instead, you just stared, eyes blurry with tears, as he seconds seemed to stretch into minutes, and you gave up trying to read his mind, because his expression was indecipherable.

After what felt like hours, he took a long breath.

“Sit down.”

You glanced at the floor, then took a step towards your chair. He stopped you.

“Not there. Here.” He nodded at the desk in front of him, and you swallowed thickly, stepping around the desk, getting awfully close to him, and pulling yourself onto the desk, legs pressed together. He stood, looking down at you.

“That’s really what you think of yourself?” He asked, voice steady and controlled.

You kept your eyes averted.

“Am I wrong?”

He lifted a hand and brushed his fingertips against your jaw, tipping your head up to look at him. And when you looked at his eyes, you knew exactly what he was feeling. He wasn’t hurt, or upset.

He was mad.

“Tell me something. What do you think I’d do if I heard someone talking about you that way?

“I don’t-”

“I’d have them executed. And you expect me to stand by and let you talk about yourself like that?”

You felt a tear spill down your cheek.

“I don’t know, Coriolanus, you tell me. Am I disposable to you?”

“Of course not."

“But you’d replace me if I left.”

“What makes you think I’d let you leave in the first place?”

A chill caressed your spine.

“That’s right. I’m keeping you here, doll. If I made you doubt that, I apologise. But you’re no whore. Though sometimes, I…” He trailed off.

“What?”

His eyes were on your lips again, hungry. You wondered how someone could switch from distant to depraved and wanting this quickly.

“Sometimes I wish you were. Because it’d make it a lot easier for me to take what I want. If you were, then I’d have no hesitation in ripping your clothes off right here. Fucking you on my desk, or up against the wall, not caring if you cum. Not caring if you enjoy it. If you were a whore, I’d have fucked you in every room in this house, twice over. I wouldn’t let you sleep.”

His hand was on your thigh, the now-creased fabric of your dress crumpling as it slid up. You weren’t sure when your eyes had fallen shut, your hot breath mixing with his as his thumb rubbed against your skin.

Your voice was pathetically quiet.

“Then why don’t you?”

He sighed, tone shifting into something tense, something you could cut through with a knife.

“Because you’re fucking impossible, you know that? I can barely think when you’re around. I don’t know where the games begin or end. I don’t… I don’t understand this power you have over me. I thought you knew, you must know that you’re under my skin. I don’t know if you’ll ever stop playing with me. It drives me fucking insane.”

You opened your eyes, hand gripping his wrist and pulling it from your thigh. You slid off the desk and took a step away from him.

“You think I’m playing with you? The only time you pay an ounce of attention to me is when you’re trying to fuck with my head, Snow. I said my piece, you heard me and you still didn’t care. So please, for both our sakes, stop torturing me. Just… come find me when you decide you want me again, okay? Let’s leave it at that.”

You made for the door, which you slammed with such an impressive force that it even took you aback.

You replayed his words in your head that night until you fell into a deep sleep, and when you woke, you felt like your dreams made more sense than he did.

“Tigris!” you exclaimed, catapulting into the blonde’s arms. The people who stood scattered around you in the manor’s large ballroom spun their heads around at your display. A few even dodged to the side as the momentum that you’d built running down the stairs nearly knocked her over.

A few days of silent glances and fewer exchanged words had passed. And now, you were just happy to be hosting in the comfort of your own home, and to finally see Tigris again. You wondered if she noticed how you hugged her, if she wondered - like you did - if you’d ever let go.

“I’m so happy you’re here. How’s your Grandma’am?”

“She’s quite well, she’s sorry she couldn’t make it. You look beautiful as ever. It’s been too long!”

“I know! I don’t think I’ve seen you since your birthday, which makes me the worst friend ever.” You groaned, scrunching up your face in shame.

“It’s okay! I know busy Coriolanus keeps you with all these functions. You must be going out of your mind by now. How are you holding up?”

The two of you walked to the edge of the room, where prying eyes had settled down after your greeting.

You looked at Snow, stood across the ballroom, dressed in a pristine suit with a champagne glass in hand, talking to yet another group of men who worked for him – ministers and such, a little higher ranking than the group from the other night – and spared you the occasional glance. As if he was keeping tabs on you. It wasn’t long before Tigris caught on and politely inquired.

“I don’t understand him, Tigris. I think he hates me.” You sighed.

“What? No, he could never. He has a soft spot for you, really, and I have it on good authority.”

“I’m not so sure anymore. I think I’ve pushed it a little far this time. I think… maybe we both did. I’m in uncharted waters, here.”

“Look, I know I don’t know all the ins and outs of how this thing between you works, but I don’t think he could ever hate you for doing anything. Coryo – I mean, Coriolanus, he does care, contrary to popular belief. It’s just that his way of showing it can get a little…”

“Fucked?” You offered, and she laughed.

“Yes, exactly. Now, I’m not going to lie to you and say that he’s an angel on earth, he’s had to do things to get to where he is now. Things that even I don’t know the extent of, and they’ve… changed him.”

You rarely got the chance to speak with Tigris alone these days, with Snow usually playing chaperone, or keeping one or the both of you busy, but it had always been easy to slide right back into conversation with her like you’d never been apart.

You’d first met Tigris at a Plinth gala years ago, on the same day you’d met Snow. The two of you had talked and laughed and she had an easiness around her, she wasn’t shallow and judgemental like a lot of the girls you’d grown up with, though you never knew why until many months later. Snow had placed a large wall between his life before the Plinth endorsement, and after. Few people knew the conditions he’d grown up in, but after countless hours with Tigris, you’d begun to assemble small pieces. Despite your closeness with her, you knew from her warnings that Snow had a sort of temper when it came to this topic, so you approached it with caution.

“Changed him how?” You inquired, finally.

“Well… It wasn’t always fancy balls and lunches with him. It never was, with any of us, as you know, but especially for him. He’s… had a different experience. Grandma’am and I, we’ve known hard times, but we haven’t seen what he’s seen. Not even close.”

“What kind of things?”

She glanced over her shoulder, making sure nobody was hovering.

“He’d kill me for telling you.”

“You know I won’t say a word. But you don’t have to tell me, if it’s too much to ask.”

She took in a breath, and sipped her drink, voice dropping to a whisper.

“This stays between us, okay? Coriolanus has… been out there. In the districts, I mean. Before all this. And I can’t go into detail, he’d have my head if I…”

You swallowed.

“The districts? But… why? I don’t-”

“Tigris, lovely to see you, it’s been so long.” A male voice interrupted, and you quickly excused yourself, slipping away to let the two of them talk.

After mulling it over in your head and making small talk with a few more guests, you snuck out of a side door and into the hallways, winding upstairs until you were finally met with Snow’s bedroom door. The sound of voices and music a mere echo below you, you pushed tentatively, and stepped inside. It was strange, being in there alone, for the first time since he’d turned you away. But you paced the floor, looking for something, anything, that would answer the questions you had. Why the districts? Why couldn’t Tigris tell you what had happened there?

Glancing back at the door, you began thumbing through his closet, peeking inside drawers. You’d already given his room a once over, but you worked more meticulously this time, every corner you unsuccessfully turned over only fuelling your curiosity. You walked around the room again, getting frustrated.

You headed back to the door, scanning the place, and retraced your steps a third time. Knocking a little on cupboards and anything that appeared the slightest bit odd or out of place. It was a perpetually tidy room, neat as ever, save for the desk which contained folders you were sure weren’t for your eyes, but that didn’t stop you. You kept on, trying your best not to leave any stone unturned, and most importantly, trying not to move anything out of place.

Eventually, you moved to the smaller desk drawers again, rifling through them haphazardly, annoyed by the lack of evidence you were finding. One of the two drawers had very little inside it, just a pencil and a pocket dictionary, and as you pushed your hand further inside to feel for anything else, you noticed it felt smaller than the first. Shallower. When you knocked, it was hollow.

It had a false bottom.

Your father used to keep his cigars beneath one of these when you were growing up, so you knew what to look for. You felt around the edge until you touched a small, metal handle, then emptied the drawer, hooked your fingers into the handle and pulled. You frowned at first, there was less in the hidden compartment than there was above it. But you peered inside, and there lay two items: an old photograph, and a silver dog tag.

Suddenly, it all made sense. His efficiency, his drive, his orderliness.

Military. The districts. The dog tag.

You unfolded the photograph, caked in a layer of dust, and it hit you like a ton of rocks.

Coriolanus was a peacekeeper.

But why? When? And why keep it a secret?

In the photograph, his hair was buzzed, and he was in a uniform you recognised immediately; if only because of the annual reaping ceremony shown in every building in the Capitol. He was standing next to a boy with dark hair, also buzzed. You recognised him as Sejanus Plinth, you’d never met the kid but you’d been to his funeral with your family, and had seen enough pictures to know.

You knew that the Plinth family had backed Coriolanus’ education, that he became their new heir, a protégé of sorts, but not that he’d been friends with their son. Not that they’d been this close, at least. They weren’t smiling in the photo, stood pin straight and alert in what looked like barracks.

You folded the photograph and placed it back where you found it. Your hands lingered on the dog tag, though, despite the logical side of your brain screaming at you to put it back, leave the room and pretend you didn’t see this. But the louder part egged you on as you pulled it out of the drawer, examining the engraved words, running your hands over the name SNOW and, further down, DISTRICT 12.

You’d heard bedtime stories from your mother while growing up, about the war, the Hunger Games and why they existed, and why it was never safe to set foot in the districts, not even the richer ones.

They’re beneath us, she’d said. They’re dangerous. Barbaric. And 12 was notoriously the poorest, most dangerous of them all.

Coriolanus had now become more of an enigma to you than ever before, and a thousand new questions flooded your head.

You closed the drawer halfway, holding the chain, pulling out a chair in front of the mirror to sit down. You turned the tag over in your hands, as if it would start giving you the answers, if only you looked hard enough.

Why was he sent to 12? Why couldn’t he talk about it?

Despite the conditions Snow grew up in, there was respect behind his family name. It didn’t make sense why someone of his social standing and education would leave to be a peacekeeper, of all things, and in 12, of all places. A strange sort of pity filled you, wondering what he could’ve seen out there. What he could’ve done. It all drew you in as you got lost in a world of what ifs.

Despite yourself, you pushed your hair from your neck, and as if in a trance, wrapped the chain around it. It fell heavy and cold against your skin, sending a chill through your bones. You were so busy staring down at it, so lost in thought that you barely noticed the sound of the door pushing open. Or the floorboards lightly creaking. Or his reflection in the mirror. You didn’t notice any of that, until the door swung shut with a bang.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Coriolanus had had a long day, most of which he’d spent simmering over work and you. He’d kept his eye on you that evening; on the way you’d thrown yourself into Tigris’ arms, and talked, transfixed, and he hated not knowing what was being said. A strange feeling set in as he saw the two of you get deeper into conversation from the other side of the large room, a deep-seated uneasiness stirring him up as he drowned out the tales of his associates’ incompetence. It felt like a breath of relief when he sent someone your way to interrupt whatever talk you were having, pretending that Tigris had been looking for him earlier. He focused on your brief tour of the room when the distraction worked, eyes flitting around like you were preoccupied.

When he saw you dart away from the ballroom and up one of the stairwells, he followed you as soon as he got the chance.

He’d wondered if you might act up today, but this wasn’t what he was expecting. When he saw you, the all too familiar glint of silver around your pretty neck, something shifted in him. Something he’d done a very, very good job of keeping at bay during his first few years of presidency.

Rage.

Your eyes met his in the mirror.

“Coriolanus, I-”

His hands were on you before you could finish your sentence, hauling you out of the chair, fingers wrapped in a death grip around your arms, squeezing as he pushed you to the wall with a satisfying thud.

“What, you can explain? I highly doubt that.”

“I’m sorry, I just-” You gasped as he squeezed tighter, gripping your wrists.

“Do you even know what this means?” He seethed, dog tag pressed between his fingers, chain pulling at your neck.

The forest. The birds. The gunshots that deafened him for weeks.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry. I never knew you were a peacekeeper, Coryo, I-” He flinched, saw the way you winced the second it passed your lips.

Snow may have been cold, but his eyes were fire. And you were only stoking it.

“So I’m Coryo now? Who the fuck told you call me that? Was it Tigris? I saw you talking to her, don’t lie to me.”

“No.” You shook your head. “She didn’t tell me anything, I promise. Please. It was just me.”

He moved in closer, eclipsing you altogether, grip on the chain so tight he was certain you’d be able to feel it pinching the back of your neck, digging a mark into your flesh. He let the sadistic part of his brain take delight in it, in the way your eyes widened, face pleading.

Whatever this game was between you, you’d gone too far this time.

“How did you find this?” He snapped.

You were crowded against the wall, unable to move. Tears started to brim, and you didn’t answer, he wasn’t sure you could. You just shook your head over and over, repeating I’m sorry like a broken record.

“Take this off. Now. Take it off.” He ordered, dropping it back to your chest, stepping away a little so you could lift your shaking arms over your head, removing the chain. He snatched it from you, gripping it in his palm, looking down at it, and you breathed out in relief.

“I didn’t mean to… I was just looking. I had so many questions. I didn’t know what I’d find.”

“And? Are you fucking satisfied now?” His voice chilled you to the bone as he looked up at you again.

You shook your head. Apologised again. Wished you could apologise in any way that would matter, but it was too late. You’d never been more afraid in your life, anticipating what might happen, remembering echoes of rumors you’d heard, of Snow poisoning his enemies, of sending them to hang. Some you knew to be true, but others you boiled down to rebel gossip.

Now, you weren’t so sure. These were the eyes of a man who’d dropped his mask, and it was like staring into a dark void. You could get lost in it, and never find your way back.

“Please. Don’t… I won’t tell anyone, I promise. You can trust me.”

He scoffed.

Stupid girl. Hadn’t you learned by now, that trust meant nothing?

“Like I trusted you in here? I don’t think so. Can’t believe you had me feeling sorry for you. Probably just made it up so you could lower my guard then turn around and stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I didn’t, Coriolanus, I swear.” You pleaded. You were crying, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I’ve been very patient with you, little girl. But this is where I draw the line. You have no idea how far you’ve pushed me. And you don’t even realise it, you’re so caught up in your little crush. Do you know how easy I’ve been going on you? The things I’ve let you get away with… I’ve killed people for much less.”

“You’ve…” You trailed off, barely hearing your own words, barely processing a thing. He laughed, low and dark.

“Does that scare you, sweetheart? Does it make you afraid?”

Eyes frozen open, you just stared. You felt your jaw go slack.

“Good.”

Coriolanus toed an invisible line, one that had never been crossed before. You wanted him to show you he wanted you? Fine.

He looked down at the chain wrapped around his fist, but he didn’t pocket it, or place it to the side. He unwound it, and slowly pulled it over his own neck.

Your eyes dropped to where it sat in stark contrast, heavy and shining, garish against his fancy dress shirt. You felt your blood run cold.

“Get on your knees.” You heard him say. Your eyes darted back up.

“What?”

When he spoke, it sounded like someone else was talking. Someone you didn’t know at all.

“You heard me. Get on your fucking knees. Right now.”

What could you do? This was what you’d wanted. Just… not like this. Not when your hands were shaking in fear, and you had no idea what this Coriolanus was capable of.

Your head said yes; your heart wept. But you were far past listening to your sorry heart.

So, you obeyed. Legs all but giving in as you lowered yourself to the ground, knees meeting cold hardwood as the chill cut through your dress.

His fingers slipped under one of the straps.

“Take this off, baby.” He murmured, distant, like he wasn’t all there. Your head hung in shame, eyes on his feet as you pushed the straps from your shoulder, top half of the dress falling down. You heard his zipper slide down, and you shivered. No longer sure if it was in fear or anticipation.

“Head up. Look at me. Good,” he said, when you obliged, “now let’s see what this pretty mouth’s really good for, shall we?”

More tears welled up as his hand brushed your jaw, hooking a thumb to your bottom lip, pushing your mouth open. You couldn’t help the way your tongue grazed over it, tasting salt, whining when you realised it was the taste of your own tears. When your eyes fell open again, you finally caught a look at him, hard and tip weeping, and your brain filled with nothing but want, eclipsing your fear for a mere second, enough to bring Coriolanus to the ground again. He may have done terrible, unspeakable things, but he was still a man. A man who wanted you.

And why did that make your heart beat out of your chest? It thrummed like a hummingbird as you took in the sight of him, unbuttoning his shirt as he waited for you to move.

You’d seen how big he was from a distance. You’d felt him between layers of fabric, and you’d imagined this a million times over. But now, as he stood waiting in front of you, you hesitated, because it all finally felt real. Your mouth watered despite yourself, seeing the mess he’d already made, any more and he’d start dripping -

“Go on, sweetheart. It’s not gonna suck itself.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you let him past your lips. The heady taste of precum filled your mouth as you ran your tongue along the shaft slowly, trying to start steady. He wasn’t having it. His hand twisted through your hair, pulling you in closer, making you gag a little. You instinctively lifted a hand up to his thigh to brace yourself, and he laughed.

“Giving up so soon? Thought you’d try harder than that.”

He pushed further, and the indignant sound you made as you adjusted only served to spur him on.

You tried to focus on breathing through it, but he slipped in and out your mouth unevenly, and faster than you could think, catching you off guard. He looked down at the way your mouth struggled to take his length as if you were a piece of art, like he was mesmerised by it, and that feeling was encouragement was enough to keep you going. His hand twisted harder in your hair, making a fist, and he swore when you hummed in discomfort.

“Look at you.” He said, strung-out and shaky. “You strut right in here from your silver spoon life, and think you can call the shots? You’ve bitten off more than you can chew, sweetheart. You have no fucking idea what the world is really like. What people are like. What they have to do to survive.”

He moved faster, and you let your jaw go slack. You were barely moving now, he was starting to fuck your throat like he owned it. You’d started to cry again, and when you looked up at him, it was a blur. The furthest you could see was his chest, shirt unbuttoned and falling to the sides, and the dog tag, silver catching in the low light, swinging against his chest as he moved. You closed your eyes again, trying to go somewhere else in your head. Trying to breathe through your nose, to focus on being used, on how good you were making him feel, on finally being his. It was all you had left to hold on to.

But he was unwinding you with his words, knowing just where to press to make it sting, to make the tears fall harder.

“You don’t have any fucking shame about it either. Touching yourself on my bed and wearing my clothes, like you’re – fuck, that’s it - like we’re married or something. Like you’re worth more than everyone else. But look at you. Maybe you were right after all. Maybe you are my whore.” he gritted out.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried desperately to catch your breath between sobs.

“I mean, you sure look like it now, on your knees for me, making a mess of your pretty face. So fucking good. You’re sucking me off better than she did, and you’re barely even trying.”

You hated it. Hated the way his thumb brushed painfully gently against your cheek, dusting away a tear as his cock bruised the back of your throat and you tried not to gag around him. Hated the way his words twisted around in your head, and how fucked up it was that your broken brain took it as praise instead of punishment.

Most of all, you hated the throb between your shaking legs, panties soaked through and probably ruined. Humiliation seeped through you as you imagined it dripping down your legs and onto the floor. Your salty tears spilled down your face, mixing with your spit and his precum. Hating every second, until your head went blank, and you didn’t feel much of anything anymore.

You weren’t sure exactly how it happened.

One second, he was pulling your hair, twitching in your mouth and spilling down your throat, and the next, in what felt like a flash, you were on the floor, loud, wrecked sobs spilling out of you as you held your knees to your chest, face hidden. He was on the floor too - when did he get down? - and his voice was soft, oh so soft and gentle, saying something you couldn’t quite make out, dull and repetitive past your ringing ears.

“- so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I know I - I didn’t… I took it too far. Can you hear me, sweetheart? Look at me. Please, look at me. I’m right here.”

You pulled your head from your hands, and through blurred eyes, you looked at him.

This wasn’t a face you’d seen on him before. His brows knitted, lips apart as he stared at you, like you were some wounded animal he wanted to save.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Please.”

“I can’t…” You trailed off.

“You can tell me.”

Another wave of choked back sobs took over you. He held your jaw up like you were something breakable. Like maybe you’d broken already, and he was holding you together.

“I can’t do this.” You whispered. “Not like-”

He nodded, brushing a tear from your cheek.

“Okay. It’s okay, baby. Tell me what I can do for you. Just say the word.”

You caught your breath, and he flinched a little as you collapsed into his arms. The cool metal of the dog tag pressed into your cheek.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You cried.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t realise how far I’d pushed you until… I know I can’t make it up to you, but I’ll try. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. If you want to leave, I understand. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“What? No, that’s not…”

He cut you off, looking into your eyes.

“Decide tomorrow, okay doll? You don’t have to think about that now.”

“I didn’t know about… about the districts.” You hiccupped. “About you. You didn’t want me to know. I ruined everything, I-”

“Listen to me. It doesn’t matter anymore, I promise you. It’s okay, baby.”

You nodded into his chest.

“Here.” He leaned away from you, and you looked up in a question. He took the chain from his neck and placed it in your palm.

“You can have it. So long as nobody sees. You can throw it away, wear it around the house, whatever you want. It’s yours.”

You pressed it between your fingers. It cooled your hot skin like a salve.

“Thank you.” You whispered. Your head sank back onto his chest, and when you spoke again, it was barely audible.

“Coryo?”

He tensed for a second, but relaxed again just as quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

His hand brushed gently against your hair, and you relaxed into it.

“Of course you can.”

a/n: baby's first dubcon scene!! (screams cries and throws up bc navigating that was scary as fuck) p.s one more chapter left!! do we think they'll get their shit together?? who knows!! (i know)

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(more tags in the reblogs/comments)

if you’d like to be tagged, pls comment on the series masterlist (helps me keep track of everyone!!) 💌

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #tom blyth #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #snow x reader #snow x you #attention #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #x reader #x you smut

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keerysfreckles · 8 months ago

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sparks fly — LN4

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: “drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain. kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain” — or when y/n goes to lando's childhood home in england, after her night turned for the worst.

warnings: abusive relationship, cursing, not proofread

a/n: shoutout to pookie nat for finally getting me into taylor 🙏

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n knew from the moment she watched her first rom-com, she would find a love like the movies. how to lose a guy in ten days. thirteen going on thiry. ten things i hate about you. twenty seven dresses.

the list could go on. she was more than positive she'd find someone to love her the same way these fictional men loved their partners.

y/n met her first love during her spring break of her second year of uni. she could've sworn they were meant to be. they had plenty in common. they were studying the same major, both loved hockey, both wanted to study abroad someday, in paris or germany.

she thought it was perfect. until the fairy tale castle started crumbling.

during their third year of uni, y/n noticed patrick changing. he got more focused with his school work, but became more aggressive when y/n was involved.

y/n thought at first it was just the stress from exams coming up. she justified it as everyone's on edge, getting antsy for the year to be done with.

however it only fell downhill. the words of aggression turned into loud yells heard from their shard apartment at late hours. the yelling turned into patrick throwing any item he could find, which soon turned into y/n dodging almost everything patrick threw.

he hasn't hit her yet, which was possibly the only thing keeping y/n in the relationship. she really believed he could change. but as days passed, and his anger only progressed, she wasn't sure the old patrick was still inside.

sure, the man would always try to make it up to her. a million open eneded apologies could only do so much.

on the twenty third of october, that's when shit hit the fan.

"patrick please, just let me go to bed. it's late, we're both angry and not thinking right," y/n tried reasoning with him, knowing her words don't mean a thing to him.

"no, you're going to tell me what you were doing out so late."

y/n only lets out a scoff. it was the same fight almost every time she went out with friends, or simply went to the library to study. patrick never believed her.

"for the last time, i was out with jess. all we did was go shopping," y/n explains again. her own anger starts rising. she feels the bottle inside her shaking, getting ready to explode.

she stands from the couch, walking to their shared room.

"you think you can walk away from me?" patrick quickly follows, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

"what is your problem!" y/n finally shouts, "you never believe me. what do you think i'm doing? cheating on you? how can i do that when you barely let me leave this goddamn apartment?"

y/n's breath heaved. she felt a small pressure release as she finally got the courage to yell at the man standing in front of her.

"who do you think you are?"

as patrick spoke, he stepped closer to y/n. causing her to step back, eventually becoming trapped between the him and the wall.

"who gave you the right to talk to me like that?" patrick seethed, before reaching out and grabbing y/n's wrist.

his grip only tightened when she let out pained sounds, as tears started forming in her eyes.

she tried prying his hand off her wrist with her other one, "let go," she begged.

y/n started kicking. she didn't know where her feet were ending up, but was grateful patrick had started backing away from her movements.

she managed to release her wrist from his hold, and ran towards the bedroom door. grabbing anything she could before leaving the apartment, she was able to grab her phone and her shoes.

patrick tried grabbing at her again, yelling and begging for her to come back. she was still struggoing to slip her shoes on even when she got outside.

y/n swore she still heard patrick's yelling from where she stood.

once she got at least a block away, the tears couldn't help but fall. her vision became fuzzy as she kept walking. she kept tripping over he untied shoe laces, stepping in the puddles from the rain beginning to fall from her sky.

as if the rain was matching y/n's mood.

in the ten minutes she continued to mindlessly walk, y/n couldn't believe how stupid she had been. scolding herself for staying with the man who only made her the worst version of herself.

y/n kept walking, until she seemed to find herself in an all too familiar neighborhood. she couldn't even begin to count the times she's been here.

she tries ridding her tears, knowing its no use as her eyes are probably bright red and puffy.

she begins to knock on the door of the house she knows too well. as her hand leaves the wood, her mind only begins to spiral.

what are you doing? they might not even be home. this could be too much for them to handle. they won't want to see me. they can't do anything–

the sound of locks turning brought y/n back from inside her mind.

cisca stood on the other side of the door, in the warmly lit house. her heart broke at the sight of y/n drenched from the rain, her shoes barely holding onto her feet, and her shaking hands.

"oh darling," cisca starts.

"i didn't know where else to go," y/n's voice shakes as cisca lets her inside. she's gone for a moment, before coming back with a towel for the girl.

"you know you're welcome here any time," cisca brought y/n towards the living room, not caring if the couch gets wet. she can always fix it later.

"you dry off some more, i'll be back with a cup of tea," cisca rubs y/n's arm before leaving for the kitchen. the older woman's mind wanders to all the possibilities for why y/n was at their home at the late hour.

minutes pass and cisca sets the warm cup of tea in y/n's hands, instantly receiving a thank you from her.

cisca gasps slightly at the bruise already forming around y/n's wrist. "sweetheart, what happened?"

she rubs her back as y/n explains everything to the woman. from the point patrick began getting verbally violent, to the events that happened no less then half an hour ago.

cisca couldn't believe her ears. the sweet y/n she knew would never have stayed with someone like that, but cisca hardly knows her at any more. ever since she started uni she rarely comes over to her best friends childhood home.

after pulling y/n into a much needed hug, cisca began setting up the extra bedroom. while y/n stayed on the couch, finishing the cup of tea in her hands.

"hey mom, i heard noise from my room. everything okay?" lando peeks his head into the spare bedroom, instantly confused to why his mother is setting up the bed.

"y/n is out there, and she just needs to be comforted right now, okay? she's had a rough night," cisca explains as lando nods in understanding.

lando walks through the hallway towards the living room, and just like his mother, his heart sinks at the sight of y/n. she's hunched over on the couch, finally getting warmer from being out in the rain.

"i thought i heard noise out here," lando chuckles, hoping a light hearted mood might fix the atmosphere around y/n.

once their eyes meet, he knows one slightly fun comment won't make anything better. he sees her bloodshot eyes, and worried expression.

"oh, baby," the nickname slips through his lips. one he's called her many times in the past.

he kneels in front of her to wrap his arms tightly around her waist, as hers reach for his shoulders.

he didn't know how much comforting she needed, but could only guess it was a lot after she started crying against his shoulder.

he continued to hold her, rubbing his hands up and down her back. his heart started to break once she started shaking in his arms. a mixture from the crying and her body finally letting the stress and anxiety get to her.

"i should've listened to you," y/n mumbled against his shoulder.

lando doesn't respond, knowing exactly what the girl meant.

her grip loosened slightly on his shoulders, now just resting her hands there as she looks at him.

"you were right. he wasn't a good guy. you had a feeling and i should've listened to you," y/n rambles on, knowing lando's been right about patrick since the first time the two men met.

"what did he do?" lando asks, moving his hands to hers. however, his fingers brush over y/n's brusing skin. the action makes her flinch slightly, and lando's heart breaks for the second time that night.

"i shouldn't have come here," y/n states, beginning to shake her head back and forth. "i'm sorry."

"you have nothing to be sorry for, you can stay," lando tries to reason with her.

he continues to try even when he follows her back out in the rain.

"y/n! just come inside!" he runs after her, his socks getting damp from the drying puddles outside. he looks up, the rainfall definitely slowed, but y/n's hair was beginning to get wet again.

"no lando, it's fine. i'll go back there for the night. he's probably calmed down by now."

lando reaches y/n, "you can't possibly want to go back there. he hurt you. you can barely move your wrist because of the bastard."

y/n turned to see lando looking at her, his curls falling slightly from the drizzling rain.

"you can't go back there y/n."

"i've already ruined yours and your mom's night."

lando laughs, "that's the last thing you've done. you and i both know you're more than welcome to stay the night."

after minutes of silence, lando speaks up again while stepping closer to y/n.

"i want you to come inside. i want you to be comfortable and safe."

it's as if a switch went off in y/n's head. a switch she's surprised didn't go off sooner.

seeing lando like this, standing in the rain in front of her. wanting nothing more than to make sure she's protected. something patrick would never have done, during any circumstances.

he watches her eyes flick between his own and his lips.

he lets out a shuddered breath as she simply begins walking closer to him.

"y/n, you went through way too much tonight. i don't want to add to any of your stress."

y/n shakes her head, "lando i've never been more sure of anything."

lando's hands find their way to her waist as she finally steps in front of him.

"take away my pain lando, please. you're the only person who's been here for everything. you're the only one i need. i'm so stupid for not seeing it earlier. i should've never went on that stupid date. i should've listened to you, and– and if i did i would've been here so much sooner."

y/n catches her breath. her heart hammers in her chest waiting for lando's reaction.

tears begin to blur her vision once more, her emotions getting the better of her as lando doesn't respond.

"lan, please say something. you're what i want, not h–"

y/n stumbles back slightly from the impact of lando's lips pushing against hers. her hands hold onto his face, scared that if she let's go, she might just be imagining this.

"please, let me take you back in–"

now y/n cuts off lando's words, making the man laugh into the kiss. the sound and feeling sending shivers up y/n's spine.

lando breaks the kiss, but feels y/n's breath fanning over his lips.

"now can you please come back inside?"

"one more," y/n mumbles against his lips before he has the chance to reject her offer.

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chronicowboy · 1 month ago

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i NEED my brain to slow down on the ideas. i currently have 2 novels in progress and a third idea i really want to get started on. a major project, a sitcom and several hundred short stories i want to write for my masters. another tv series i really want to start. and now i'm thinking about eddie moving to texas before he buys a house and buck asks to buy his because it's the only place that's ever felt like home and he's good at haunting, he knows he's good at haunting, and he says you know just in case. just in case a year or so down the line chris decides he wants to come back to LA you guys will have somewhere to come home to. or when chris goes off to college, you could come back, eddie. you don't have to stay there when he's gone. please come back. and eddie is so grateful. so eddie moves and buck breaks his lease and the 118 help him move into eddie's house with worried eyes and poorly held back reservations about the whole situation, but buck is smiling. voice of a man hanging on by a thread, this is what i want guys i'm absolutely certain :D. anyway chimney suggests putting all of buck's spare crap in christopher's room for now and buck snaps and slams the door shut and doesn't let anyone in there. a week of haunting and he comes into the firehouse and still feels like a ghost and bobby finds him on the roof and buck says this is mistake isn't it? i shouldn't have. it's abby all over again. but it's the only place that's ever felt like home, bobby. but home isn't there. home's so far away. i love them. i love them so much. the house is so empty. i'm so alone. and bobby offers to let him stay at his until he can find a new place but buck still has this little kernel of blind hope that his boys will come back so he has to stay. he has to. and then one day on the way home from work he passes an animal shelter and he goes in not expecting anything but then he finds this scruffy adorable little dog looking up at him with so much hope in his desperate little eyes and buck is gone. and the shelter person tells him that they might be soulmates because this little guy was a first responder's dog but their partner brought it in when they died in a fire. and buck takes him home immediately and falls in love with him immediately and things get just a bit brighter. and the dog keeps sniffing at christopher's door until buck finally lets him inside and sits in the middle of christopher's bare room telling this little dog how much he'd love chris. how much chris would love him. cut to: eddie walking through the front door about a month or so later. eddie? hey buck. w-what are you doing here? well, turns out you were right, all i had to do was talk to him. what, um, does that mean exactly? means we're coming home, um, who is this? and eddie falls in love with the dog immediately too but he also falls a little deeper in love with buck and his endless well of loving in the centre of his chest and he says: i was honest with chris. about absolutely everything. and he's wrapping up his life over there whilst i. well, he said he'd only come back home for good on one condition. if i told you the truth that i told him. so, here goes. i love you, evan buckley. i'm in love with you. every bit of you. your eyes, your birthmark, your impulsive dog adopting, your heart, you.

#sami rambles #this is so long because i'm not writing it i have no time and no room in my brain for another idea be gone parasite fic #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buck x eddie #christopher diaz

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persevereforahappyending · 1 year ago

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Luck Runs Out |Part 2|

Pairing: Mabel x Reader

Summary: When your luck runs out you unknowingly drag Mabel back into the life, she's so desperate to escape.

Warnings: Mention of drugs, Mention of abusive/toxic relationships

Word Count: 4.5k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Mabel sighed, relieved to finally be home. She slung her backpack off, tossing it onto the kitchen table, as she also tossed her keys onto the counter. She was seriously regretting taking summer courses. She didn’t load up on classes, but she wanted to take as many as she could as fast as she could, since she was going back to school so late, she felt like she had some catching up to do. Her first year was all about taking core classes, basically re-learning everything she learned in high school, pointless but she guessed sort of necessary. Now that she was in her second year she was finally getting into the classes for her major, which was exciting in the moment but was now killing her.

She pulled out her phone from her back pocket when she felt it buzz, rolling her eyes as she saw Charlie’s name light up the screen. They broke up a few months ago and he still called her, it was hard to get over someone when they kept trying to insert themselves into her life. Charlie had been great, he was what Mabel thought she wanted, but as much as she cared about him, as much as she had loved him, they just weren’t right for each other. Charlie was content to work on the fishing boat with his brother and even help out his dad with the business side of things. Mabel couldn’t fault him for that, he loved it, and he was doing a great job, their little fishing company had come so far in just a year, they were still starting out but with his dad investing they were making quick progress. Mabel just wanted more, she wanted to finish school, she wanted to make something of herself, she wanted to get out of this town and see the world.

Mabel had never been anywhere, she’d barely even left the state, always needing to stay close to home for one reason or another, she dreamed of adventure and Charlie wouldn’t give her that. When she broke up with him, he had offered to do better, to try harder. He didn’t understand that he wasn’t the problem, that Mabel just wanted a different life than him. It was fun while it lasted and she still loved him, she was pretty sure she always would, but they just weren’t on the same path anymore. She was sure Charlie would drop everything and go on a trip with her, he would sacrifice what he could to make her happy, but she didn’t want him to, she didn’t want him to give up on his dream and what made him happy just to be with her.

Mabel stared at the ringing phone before tapping the red button, sending him straight to voicemail. It was better this way, he just needed to move on, he was a great guy and he’d find someone who wanted the same out of life as him. Mabel walked over to her bed, flopping face first and let out a tired groan, her face buried in the sheets. She felt the phone vibrate in her hand again, she lifted her head to see Charlie calling once again. She didn’t hesitate this time, tapping the red button before dropping her head back into her mattress again. Not a second later her phone was vibrating again.

“Dude!” Mabel spat as she aggressively answered the phone. “Take a-”

“Open the door,” he said, sounding out of breath.

“What?” She sat up, looking across the room at her front door just as rapid banging began on said door.

“Open the door, please.” He sounded desperate, his breathing heavy.

She kept the phone to her ear as she walked to the door, opening it with a furrowed brow. Her eyes went wide at seeing Charlie, phone in one hand, while his other arm was wrapped around you. Costa was on your other side with an arm wrapped around you, most of your weight leaning on him as Charlie had been trying to call her. She watched as the two guys silently begged her to enter. She stepped aside not knowing what else to do, she watched as they dragged you to her bed, gently laying you down as best as they could. When they stepped away, she saw Costa’s shirt covered in blood, in the spot you had been leaning on.

Mabel walked closer, getting a good look at you. You were soaked, you shivered, whether from the wet clothes clinging to your body or the fever you were clearly running based on the sweat coating your brow she didn’t know. There were dark circles under your eyes which remained closed the entire time, you silently flinched with each movement as if you were in pain. Mabel furrowed her brow at you, you looked familiar, like she had seen you around town a few times, but she didn’t know you, she’d never spoken to you. When her eyes drifted down to the rest of you, she zeroed in on your right shoulder, your jacket was soaked with blood.

Charlie and Costa got to work, taking off your jacket and tossing it onto the floor. Costa moved to your feet, taking off your boots and soaked socks, tossing them into the same pile. Mabel couldn’t take her eyes off your shoulder though, there was a small rip, that’s where the blood was darkest. Charlie was trying to look into the hole without actually touching you.

“What happened?” Mabel asked, she barely felt her lips move before the words came out. She couldn’t take her eyes off the wound on your shoulder.

“What happened?” Mabel asked again, this time louder when neither of the boys so much as turned to her.

“They were shot,” Costa said.

“What!” Mabel’s eyes went wide, just as Charlie ripped part of your shirt. She finally got a good look at the wound, they were right you had been shot, it was still bleeding. “Why did you bring them here?”

“We need your help,” Charlie said, finally turning to face her. Mabel looked at Charlie, his eyes wide, his hands now covered in your blood and shaking. She had never seen Charlie like that, even during everything that happened last year, Charlie always came off as calm, like he wasn’t afraid of anything.

“You need a hospital,” she tried to reason. She didn’t know why they thought she could help, she didn’t know anything, they needed to take you to the hospital.

“We can’t.”

“Why not?” The boys looked at each other, silently debating in they should tell her not. “You bring someone with a gunshot wound to my apartment, as they’re bleeding out in my bed,” Mabel snapped. “I deserve to know why you can’t take them to the fucking hospital!”

“Drugs,” Charlie finally snapped. Mabel’s eyes went wide, no, no, there was no way she was being dragged back into that scene. She just got out, after everything that happened last year, she was out, she was in school, she was trying to do something with her life. “Drugs,” he whispered again, dropping his eyes to the floor.

“Get out,” Mabel whispered.

“Mabel,” Charlie said softly.

“Get out!”

“Mab-”

“No! No, you can’t do this to me. You can’t bring this here. I don’t want any part of this.”

“Neither did we!” Charlie stepped closer, he reached for her hands, but she pulled away, crossing her arms. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he admitted, staring at her with those puppy dog eyes of his, begging her to understand. “I just-all I know is-” he looked back at you, you were getting progressively worse, looking paler by the minute. “They need our help, and I can’t just let someone die,” his voice broke.

“Why me?” Mabel asked, her eyes not leaving your face. She knew she was already going to help; she couldn’t just ignore someone bleeding out in front of her, ignoring the fact that said person was literally in her home.

“I didn’t know who else to go to. I just figured you might know how to help…” he trailed off his eyes finishing his sentence ‘because of your mom and your history with this stuff’.

Mable closed her eyes and slowly let out a breath. She wasn’t a doctor, not even a nurse, but she learned from a young age how to patch people up. Mabel clenched her jaw, shaking her head at the memory of her childhood, she had been just ten when she first helped her mom with an overdose. She had to patch up her mom when she couldn’t meet payments and her dealer got angry. She had to learn how to stitch up wounds with what she had when a boyfriend of her mom's would come in with a gash on his head or a knife wound in his gut.

“I need a rag and a bowl of water,” Mabel said, Charlie already moving to the kitchen, nearly tripling over his own feet in the process. “There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom.” Costa ran, coming out a moment later with the kit. “Was it a through and through?” She asked walking over to scrub her hands with soap and water. She didn’t have gloves, but she could get her hands as clean as possible at the very least.

“What?” Charlie asked confused as he held the bowl of water and rag.

“The bullet,” She pushed past him, making her way to your bedside. “Does it have an exit wound?”

“I don’t know,” he looked at her confused.

Mabel suppressed an eye roll before gently touching your shoulder, lifting you off the bed just enough for her to see behind you. “It does,” she mumbled.

“Is that good?”

Mabel nodded, “Means we don’t have to try and dig it out and risk more damage.”

Mabel got to work, wiping the blood around the wound, you winced whenever she applied the slightest bit of pressure. She cleaned the front and back before taking some gauze out of the med kit, putting it on the hole in the front then some in the back before she began to tightly wrap it. When she was done and satisfied with the wrapping, not worried it was too tight and cutting off circulation or to loose, she leaned back with a sigh.

She started to reach for her phone when she noticed the blood staining her hands. She got up and went back to the kitchen, scrubbing away as much blood as she could. She glanced back to see the boys standing around awkwardly, Charlie acting like he had never been in her place before, as if he didn’t spend almost every night there when they were together.

“Can you get them up?” Mabel asked. “We need to change the sheets and get those wet clothes off.”

They nodded and got to work, one of them gently lifting you up, while the other stripped the bed. Mabel ran to her dresser, digging through it until she pulled out a large shirt and some sweatpants. Charlie helped guide you onto the couch in the corner, away from the bed. Mabel got down on her knees and began to strip you down as well. She threw the wet clothes into a pile with the other stuff. She made sure to quickly rub a towel down your body, minding your wound to make sure you were dry before, with some slight difficulty, getting you dressed in the new dry clothes. When she was finally done, she turned to see the boys finishing putting the clean sheets onto the bed.

Mabel put one arm around you, struggling to lift you off the couch before Charlie ran over, wrapping an arm around you as well. They led you to the bed, your body leaning on Mabel as Charlie pulled back the sheets then as gently as she could Mabel laid you down. She pulled the covers all the way up to your neck. She could see you still shivering, your skin was freezing, paler than she knew a person could get.

Mabel reached for her phone again, scrolling through her contacts until she found the name she was looking for, a name she never wanted to call. She pressed the name, taking a second to take a deep breath before bringing the phone to her ear.

“Who are you calling?” Charlie asked.

She ignored him, choosing to stare at you, needing the reminder as to why she was calling this person. “Hello?” A man answered the phone. Mabel’s breath caught in her throat at hearing his voice.

“I need your help,” she said, trying to maintain her composure.

“Oh?” Mabel could practically hear his smirk.

“I need you to bring pain meds,” Mabel continued, refusing to allow him to say anything more. “And anything you’ll need for a gunshot,” she whispered as she looked back at your unconscious form.

“What have you gotten yourself into?” it wasn’t concern in his voice, it certainly would never be that, it was curiosity. “What kind of trouble has the great infallible Mabel gotten herself into?”

“Just get here,” Mabel snapped. Her eyes instantly found Charlie’s, but she quickly looked away. She knew Charlie’s eyes were still on her, she could practically feel his concern from across the room.

The man let out a tired sigh. “You know this is going to cost you.”

“Whatever,” Mabel glared at Charlie, who frowned at her, giving her confused puppy dog eyes. Her eyes shifted, finding you again, a total stranger, but someone she couldn’t just let die. “You’re on a time limit.” She took the phone away from her ear, aggressively hitting the red button before he could say anything else.

Mabel sat in one of the chairs at the small kitchen table, her arms crossed, and jaw clinched, shaking her head. She was wishing she could time travel and go back to earlier when her only worry for the day was how exhausted she was from school and how she was going to get all her work done on time.

She glanced out of the side of her eye to see Costa and Charlie looking at each other, tossing quick glances at her. Costa started gesturing towards her and silently whispering at Charlie. Mabel closed her eyes, sighing, it was only a matter of time before one of them asked again.

“Hey, Mabel,” Charlie asked hesitantly. Mabel looked at him irritated, raising an eyebrow as she waited for him to continue. “Who was that?” he glanced back at Costa who was looking down at the floor, his fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket on the bed.

Mabel sighed, calming herself down before answering, “A doctor.” Charlie’s eyebrows raised at that, he glanced at Costa as if to ask, ‘did you know about that?’ and Mabel followed his gaze to see Costa with the same look. Mabel had never mentioned the guy before, certainly never around Charlie, he had been out of her life for years before she even met Charlie. “He’s…” she clicked her tongue, thinking of the best way to describe the doctor. “Friends with my mom,” she settled on but if the boys saw the way she clenched her jaw on the word friends they didn’t say anything.

“Now,” she said, turning in her chair to fully face Charlie and Costa. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Charlie grabbed a chair, pulling it near your bedside so he could still face Mabel and Costa, who elected to continue standing. Charlie sighed, resting an elbow on his leg as he ran a hand across his shaved head.

“We went out, early,” Costa spoke up. “There was a huge storm last night and we wanted to get out there as soon as possible. “We were on our way to a regular spot of ours when we caught sight of something floating in the water.” Costa looked down at you. “Turned out to be,” he gestured at you. “We got them aboard, saw the wound first, and then…”

“We saw the drugs,” Charlie finished. “There were three large packs,” he gestured with his hands trying to show how big they were. “Wrapped in plastic and taped up, like the one we picked up last year.” His eyes met Mabels, she knew exactly what he was talking about, she had seen it plenty of times, it’s how they packed the drugs for drops to make sure they didn’t get contaminated by the water. “They were bigger than the one we got though.”

“So much bigger.” It was Costa’s turn to start gesturing with his hands, trying to accurately represent the size. “Like three or four times bigger.”

Mabel sucked in a breath. The drop Charlie and the crew picked up last year was a small one, it was a one and done drop. What they were describing now though was much bigger, Mabel would bet money there wasn’t just three packs, that there was a lot more somewhere. The fact that three got loose from the others worried Mabel, three large packs was a lot of money to go missing, whoever was bringing these drugs in wouldn’t be happy.

“And did you leave it?” she asked. When she was met with nothing but silence, she looked from Charlie to Costa, seeing both of them suddenly finding the floor much more interesting. “Where is it?” she asked as calmly as she could.

“On the boat,” Charlie answered after a moment. “It’s hidden.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” She shook her head, this was so much bigger than last year, the crew had no idea what they were putting themselves in the middle of. They got lucky that last year Tom’s dad killed the dealers and got arrested, that was actually a best-case scenario. This was so much bigger and there was no one to dig them out of the hole this time, even if they didn’t intentionally involve themselves in it, even if they had only meant to help someone.

They were interrupted by three loud knocks on the door, making all three of them jump. Mabel got up from her chair but paused on her way to the door to turn and face the boys again. “Don’t say anything,” she said, pointing at each of them. She didn’t turn back to the door, ignoring another knock as she waited for both of them to nod in agreement.

She opened the door, seeing the doctor leaning against the door frame. He bumped her shoulder as he shoved his way in, not waiting for an invite. He walked through her place as if he owned it, glancing at the two men by your bedside who were now both standing, their arms crossed.

“It’s like you don’t trust me,” he said, looking back at Mabel.

“I don’t trust you,” Mabel replied, crossing her arms.

“Then why call?”

“You’re the only doctor I know who works off the books and can get pain killers.”

He smirked at her. Mabel glared up at him. “Where’s my patient?” Mabel glanced behind him at you. He turned without another word, setting his med kit on your bedside as he got a look at you. He got to work, moving to the sink to scrub his hands then pulling on gloves before he started peeling back the bandaging Mabel had done.

Mabel stood behind him, watching his every movement. She knew the man was a good doctor, he patched up plenty of people, saved plenty of lives, in and outside of the hospital. She wouldn’t classify what he and her mom had as a relationship, more like a mutual agreement, a business contract if anything. They definitely hooked up; Mabel was sure of that. Mabel assumed it happened when her mom couldn’t pay him. They first met when Mabel’s mom got rushed to the hospital for an overdose one time, Mabel had walked in on them whispering to each other and then the doctor handed her a pill bottle.

That’s how it started. Mabel’s mom might have worked with common drug dealers, selling, and cutting product but she got the good stuff from the doctor. She would get pain killers and all kinds of prescription meds from him; it was a side business he ran. He was also the first person they called when one of the dealers got too aggressive when Mabel’s mom missed out on a big deal and smashed a glass across her face, giving her a nice, jagged cut on the side of her head. Mabel stood in the doorway, watching as the doc picked shards out of the cut then stitched her back up. He always did things as if they were out of the kindness of his heart, but he always made people pay for his help, if they couldn’t pay with money, he was good at coming up with another means of currency.

“How’s it looking?” she asked after watching the doctor poke around your wound for a few minutes.

“Not bad,” he mumbled. “Missed anything vital, was a through and through, and you did a decent job cleaning it.” He looked back at her with a smirk, “Guess you did learn something from me.” Mabel rolled her eyes, she hated to admit he was right, she learned how to patch up so many wounds because of him, she just didn’t have all the supplies for properly dealing with a gunshot, well as properly as one can without taking the person to the hospital.

The doctor continued to work on you, cleaning up your wound and giving you a shot of what Mabel assumed was painkillers. Costa and Charlie actually did as she asked and remained quiet the entire time, though Charlie did glare at the doctor, not that he paid Charlie any mind. The doctor put new bandages on you then gently put your arm in a sling.

He stood up from the chair, packing up his kit then walked over to Mabel. Mabel looked up at him and he handed her a small pill bottle. “Two every twelve hours, got it?” Mabel nodded. “I left the wound open, so change the bandages twice every day and make sure to clean around the wound when you do so.” Mabel nodded along, taking in all his directions.

Mabel walked with him as he moved towards the door. Mabel even opened the door for him. He stepped out, putting his hand up to catch the door she had started to close. Mabel huffed, glaring up at him. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear, whispering for only her to hear as he said, “I’ll text you about payment.” He pushed off the door and disappeared back down the hall. Mabel slammed the door, clenching her jaw, she knew he was going to charge her something outrageous, but it wasn’t like she could just let you die.

“What was that about?” Charlie asked, cautiously moving closer to her.

“Nothing,” Mabel mumbled. She knew she should tell him; Charlie was rich and could more than pay whatever the doc decided she owed, and this was Charlie’s problem, he brought it to her door. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him though, she didn’t want him having to save her, even though this was all his fault.

His phone buzzed and as soon as he looked at the screen, he let out a loud groan. “Shit,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Tommy.” He quickly typed back a message. “He wants us back. We set out today only to come straight back after finding them,” he nodded back to your sleeping form. “We still need to get our catch.”

“Go.”

“What?” he was still texting Tommy, most likely arguing with him. “No. We can’t go. I can’t just drop this mess on your doorstep and then leave.”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty shitty thing to do,” Mabel deadpanned. Charlie looked up at her slightly shocked and was about to continue his argument or try and defend himself, but Mabel wouldn’t let him even get started. “But everything needs to seem normal. This is serious shit you’ve now gotten yourselves into. I don’t know what happened out there, but I know it can’t be good and whoever they were with,” she nodded to you, “can’t know you found them. You guys,” she glanced at Charlie and Costa. “Need to pretend everything is normal so you need to go on your run.”

“But-”

“Don’t,” Mabel held up a hand. “Everything is fine. Everything is normal. You don’t know anything; you’re going out for your catch. Don’t say anything to anyone and don’t do anything with the drugs. Got it?” she stared into Charlie’s eyes, making sure he knew how serious she was.

“Got it,” he finally said, nodding along. “Are you sure you’ll be okay with them?” he gestured back to you.

Mabel nodded. “They’re injured, I’m sure I can take them if they try anything.”

Charlie chuckled, Mabel couldn’t help but smile, it had been a while since she heard his laugh. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” she shrugged. “I’ll be fine. We’ll figure this out when you guys get back.”

“Okay.” He gave Costa a nod and they made their way out, leaving Mabel alone with you.

Mabel locked the door after the guys left. There was no reason for her to suspect anyone would come looking for you here, but she was also on edge when drugs were involved. She walked around her place, cleaning up the mess, throwing away the bloody bandages, and even tossed your wet clothes into the dryer. She made her way to your bedside, looking down at you once again, you already looked better than when the boys had brought you over a few hours ago, the color was slowly coming back to your face.

Mabel caught a glimmer of silver around your neck, she had seen it before when she changed you into dry clothes, but she was preoccupied in making sure you didn’t die that she didn’t pay the shimmer much mind. She reached down, gently pulling the silver chain out from under your shirt. At the end of the necklace was a little silver trident, she tilted her head at it, she guessed it wasn’t completely unusual for a fisherman to have something of the sort, but it certainly wasn’t common.

Knowing she couldn’t leave you alone she grabbed her backpack, pulled out all the stuff she’d need and got her laptop set up. She usually did her homework on the couch but opted for the kitchen table. She had just enough space to spread out her work but was also close enough to you that she could be there if anything happened. Mabel opened up her laptop, and got to work on her homework, she couldn’t help but glance up at you every few seconds.

#mabel (finestkind)#mabel finestkind #mabel x reader #mabel x fem!reader #mabel x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #finestkind 2023 #luck runs out

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solarpire · 22 days ago

Note

re: your tags on the poc/character post

I'm sorry but did. we watch the same Arcane

Ok so you've activated my rant card (I mean this with joy, I love talking about this kind of thing and I do enjoy the show they just did like abysmally for representation)

Here is why ekko rings as an empty/token character to me:

1. We get no personal motivations for him. We had three whole episodes of character setup for our characters. By the time we get to progress day, we solidly know what every character is about, and why seven years later they would end up in the places they did. Except for ekko. Sure he lost benzo, but what does that mean? All we ever see from that is him crying with vi. Why is he running the firelights? Did he start this group? What got him passionate enough to start all this? How did he find the tree? Why is he so jaded now? How does he feel about how things went down for vi and powder? Why does he hate jinx? (For those who dont know, that last one was apparently Supposed to be answered, but was among one of the MANY ekko scenes they decided to cut for time.) Genuinely we get better character drive for Marcus. We barely get to know his thoughts on anything, let alone see his downtime. The only exception to that is when hes playing at being someone else in the au episode. Which leads me into my next point-

2. He is always only used as a plot piece for the white characters. We only see him in the au in service of having an au episode, furthering jinxs plotline, and getting his time power in time to kind of help stop victor. In the game he always had it, he would use it as a kid to make dinners with his family last longer, and worked on furthering it when he was older to save his friend, that he ended up not being able to save in the end. That's interesting! That's something for him to have on his own, that's a driving force for why hes doing things. And when this

Is genuinely the best characterization for him? Theres a problem. (He also falls into the black hair tropes of white hair and that specific short dreads with the side shave look to make him look cool, but since the white hair was a problem with the original character design in a load bearing way, and dreads do work for his character I dont necessarily consider them the worst offenses. Can we Please explore some other hair styles though I swear his look is begging for some twists, or maybe some box braids). And otherwise, his screen time is next to nothing. I want to say season one he gets less than ten minutes total. They treat him as if hes a main character to further the plot, but the moment it doesnt matter to the more important main characters hes discarded.

3. He doesnt get to be questioned. Every single character in this show is grey in some way, except for ekko. He is lorded as an absolute moral good by the show, but we dont actually get to see what that means. We barely actually get to know how he feels about shimmer divorced from silco, let alone any of his politics in regard to zauns freedom. Hes put on a pedestal of "the good guy" without actually letting that mean or accomplish anything aside from being something pretty to look at. A token. They almost do better by sevika, if they didnt fully ignore her after the parts they needed her for in the first half of season 2, not let her mourn or even find out about the people she cared about dying, didn't let her participate in the last episode, and then did her the disservice of being the only zaunite voice on the council when it runs on majority vote (I'm sorry there is No fucking way shes rolling over and taking that deal after how much shes devoted to fighting for zaun)

4. HE FUCKING WORKS WITH THE COLONIZER OF ZAUN AS A FRIEND AND MENTOR. HELLO. I have so many problems with how heimerdinger was portrayed as a constant voice of reason, but the fact that in ADDITION to that they make him buddy buddy with ekko? Makes it incredibly clear that they have no fucking idea what they're saying.

All in all, on the surface? Ekkos awesome! Ekko is really cool and fighting for an important cause! But the moment you look past that there is almost nothing to him character wise. And when hes the only black character they use culturally black ties for outside of hair, and the only main black zaunite character? It rubs me wrong.

#arcane critical #arcane ekko #and thats to say NOTHING of the wild amounts of antisemitism and the homophobic stereotypes #anyway can you tell im autism fixated on this show rn

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wsknbfanaccnt · 23 days ago

Text

Hereditary

A They Act As One one-shot

Summary: Seijuro inherits Shiori's illness, Akashi does not. Requested by @japeneselunchtimerush

Warning!: Major character death

"Going easy on me, Seijuro?"

"I could never even dream of such a thing." Seijuro smirked, moving another piece on the board. For once they had nothing to do, and it was a beautiful sunny morning. Today, they decided to play on the grass in their mother's garden.

Clack after clack as the game progressed, and neither wasting a single second. Having played this game against each other for years, nothing could stump the other anymore.

"So boring, Akashi. I'll give you a free turn. Do something else,"

"Now now, Seijuro do not underestimate me. You know the rules of the game, I refuse to change my move." Akashi said with a small smile, Seijuro rolling his eyes.

"Fine then," he snarked at his brother, picking up another piece.

A different clacking was heard this time, one where the piece fell on the wooden board.

Seijuro's hand was shaking rather violently, and with one glance the two immediately knew. Their mother's disease had started, and it chose Seijuro as its victim.

He knew his next move. One step and then the other, pushing his legs wth all his might, the ball in his sight. He would win. Despite his chest tightening. Despite his panic. Despite that he was barely able to breath. Despite of his vision slowly going black. He will win.

A dull thud echoed through the gym.

"Seijuro-? Seijuro!! Hey- are you alright?!" Akashi darted to his brother's side, lifting his head off of the ground. Their team surrounded the twins as a player ran off into the infirmary, alerting them about their captain.

"I suggest you go home and rest for a while, maybe 24 hours." Seijuro looked at Akashi in protest, but decided to back down as he saw the look in his brother's eyes.

"Don't worry, I have everything covered from here. I will finish practice and do your work for the day." Akashi said with determination, gently stroking his little brother's arm.

"Rest, please."

"...I will. I'll see you later, Aka-nii."

As the car drove off right outside Rakuzan's main entrance, Akashi took his time getting back to the gym.

"Let me know," Akashi went over to the piano and sat down on the bench, playing a few scales for a warm up. The beautiful melody of the instrument, though just simple, provided warmth in their hearts.

"Ready,"

"A," the note on the piano was played, and the violin followed suit. Seijuro adjusted the knobs until it was perfectly in tune.

"Next,"

"D," another note.

"G,"

"You don't have to call it out, you know?"

"I like doing it,"

"E,"

"Perfect."

"Brahms today. Rain Sonata," Seijuro said simply, looking through his sheet music.

"Yes fine.." Akashi rolled his eyes, not even getting a say. But it was the least he could do right now.

And so their instruments danced and sang, their harmonies ringing and their runs precise. But more than that, they were in perfect sync. Not just as musicians, but as twin brothers who knew each other inside out. Who coexist within each of their lives. Who, without the other, is incomplete as is the piece that they performed. Who exist as one.

The violin abruptly stopped as a twang of the string cut their music short. Akashi looked over as Seijuro looked down at his hand, barely able to grip the bow. There was a great silence as the bow dropped to the ground, his hand shaking violently. Seijuro took a deep sigh, bending down slowly to pick the bow up with shaky hands.

"You're tired, Seijuro. We can continue this another time," Akashi went up to him with a small smile, taking the bow and the violin from his hands and resting them inside its case. Seijuro watched him with quiet concern, noticing the plastered smile on his face.

"Come, Seijuro. I believe tofu soup is what's served for dinner tonight..."

"Mother, happy birthday," Akashi called out as the two arrived in front of her grave. He took Seijuro's flowers and his own, replacing the old ones on the vase beside her.

"Happy birthday," Seijuro followed suit, smiling as he took a deep sigh. It was clear now that he was sick; the tired eyes, his fragile frame, the paleness of his skin.

"Well, you look more like mother now," Akashi joked, smirking at his brother.

"Why you-!"

"She did have the same symptoms. Now you can tell people that you look more like her," The two looked at each other and laughed softly, Seijuro shaking his head.

"She would be 43 years old now," Seijuro said, taking a deep sigh.

"I wonder what Mother would look like at that age," Akashi thought out loud as he set up the picnic blanket, taking out onigiri and other snacks that they and their mother used to eat together. Seijuro sat down on the blanket, helping his brother.

"No no, you'll tire yourself out,"

"Akashi, I'm not completely helpless yet-"

"I will set everything up. Stay there and don't move," Akashi scolded his brother, Seijuro groaning in annoyance.

The two ate and talked and reminisced their times with their mother, remembering all the happy memories. Both laughs and sad silences were shared between the brothers. As the sun started to set Akashi packed everything up, Seijuro merely staring at his mother's grave.

"Come on, we have to get home," Akashi scolded. He then helped his brother up on his wheelchair, making sure he was comfortable. They made their way back to the car.

"I'll see you soon, mother..."

Akashi woke up to the light of Seijuro's lamp across the room.

"Seijuro...? It's late, what are you still doing up..?" he called out, yawning and going over to him. Seijuro didn't respond, scribbling away on his desk.

"Is that- Seijuro...! You don't have to work anymore, Father said so! You'll get tired-"

"Leave me alone."

"Seijuro, go back to sleep right now. Stop pushing yourself, you're already sick-"

"Then what am I supposed to do?!" Seijuro shouted, throwing the pen at the wall. Akashi glanced down at the papers and reports, noticing the horrid handwriting.

"I can't spend the rest of my life rotting away on the bed! I can't do anything, I can't even go to the bathroom on my own, this is the least I can do!" he hissed, frustrated. Akashi sat down on Seijuro's bed.

"I'm sorry, Seijuro..."

"When I die, everything that Father assigns us on a daily basis will be left to you. You have to do twice what you're doing right now. Remember when Mother-"

"Yes, I remember everything Seijuro." Akashi cut him off, clenching his fists.

"I can see it, Akashi. You're slowly shouldering my responsibilities too. That and school, and... me."

"Do not speak of yourself as if you are a burden to me."

"But I am. If I wasn't dying-"

"Will you stop using that word?!" Akashi hissed, silent tears streaming down his face. Seijuro sighed.

"Let me help, Akashi. I am your brother, and we are supposed to be doing this together. Let me help while I still can."

Akashi picked up the pen that dropped on the floor and gave it to Seijuro, then lay down on his bed, awake for the rest of the night.

"Aka-nii?"

"Yes?"

"Can... I sleep with you tonight?"

Akashi's heart warmed at his request. He had just finished preparing Seijuro's bed too, but he couldn't resist his baby brother. He brought him to his bed and lay down next to his brother, giving him a gentle hug.

"We have servants, you know. You don't have to take care of me, you have other things to do," Seijuro said weakly, a frown on his face.

"I don't like it. I can take care of you best,"

"Yes, but-"

"Shh. It's late. We should sleep," Akashi scolded his brother, Seijuro pursing his lips. It was silent for a second, aside from feeble breathing.

"Thank you, Akashi."

"For what?"

"Well... everything. We both had a mutual though unspoken agreement that I would be your protector after Mother died... how the tables have turned," Seijuro chuckled weakly.

"Ah well... Think of it another way. We both respond to each other's needs," Akashi said, shrugging a bit.

"...still,"

"You're welcome then, if that's what it takes for you to go to sleep."

"Fine. Goodnight,"

"Goodnight, Seijuro."

"...I love you, brother." the younger one whispered. The older one responded soon after, adjusting his position and holding his brother as they slept.

"I love you too, Seijuro."

The Manor woke up at 8am to the horrid sound of Akashi's cries and wails. Even Masaomi ran to their room, the door bursting open. He froze in place, taking in the sight. The sight of Akashi clutching his twin brother in his arms, sobbing and begging for him to come back.

Seijuro had passed away painlessly in the arms of who he cherished the most. And for him, that was more than he could ever ask for.

Tags and notes:

@chosenimagines

@souls-heart

@padmsanakin

@japeneselunchtimerush

@alor-thes

@sweijuro

AURA WHY THE FUCK DO YOU DO THIS TO ME I HOPE YOURE FUCKING SATISFIED I SWEAR TO GOD

this is the saddest shit ive written in a long fucking while man oh my god

on the other hand bro this is so good and so painful I'm very satisfied

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louiesselfshipramblings · 2 months ago

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Straw Hat Headcanons! (And selfship eligibility cause like this is a selfship blog still)

Monkey D. Luffy: Nothing really major. Just darker skin to reflect his Fantasy Brazil heritage, and frizzier hair. I don't wanna say just what Iñaki Godoy looks like, but...yeh, what Iñaki Godoy looks like. Self ship eligibility...no shade to peeps who do, love ya, but I see my boy Luffy as AroAce king. Man was immune to a fruit literally EVERY man was vulnerable to, and he didn't even realize it! On the scale, 0/10 [for me personally].

Roronoa Zoro: Yeh similar to Luffy. Prob darker skin, but him being Japanese, I get a paler complexion. Also he is def a closeted gay man for Sanji. Gonna be so cool when they find the One Piece and the two make out. Very progressive and cool. Tho he's not my type; too emotionally unavailable, and passes it off as being "cool". Fuck you, Zoro! But I still love your goofy ass. Be silly again! 1/10

Nami: NAMI!!!! She should be FAT!! She should be BIG!!! She should be able to eat everything she wants now because she's a free pirate, goddammit!!! And she should still be seen as beautiful cause she's a Straw Hat!!! LET HER KILL PEOPLE WITH HER CLIMATE BATON, YOU LET HER DO THAT IN PUNK HAZARD AND NEVER AGAIN ODA WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!! (Can you see who I made this list for. Shush, it's a secret.) I was late on the Nami train tbh, but when I hoped on I hoped HARD. Nami is so wife...I wanna make her happy...I get it, Sanji...now move it and let me date her! You can have Zoro! Oh, and I could personally see her as pan. 11/10

Usopp: Please. Come on. You know what I'm gonna say. Usopp, my boy...he needs his melanin back even though he barely had it in the first place in both anime and manga but sshhhhhh. The boy's South African, and is explicitly played by the clearly black Jacob Romero Gibson. I suppose Oda is bad at coloring and all, but I see you Toei. I see you still keeping Blackbeard black while making Usopp paler. Racist ass studio...also, no donut lips. I'd still say he'd have thicker lips, but not exaggerated to that, and if it don't work with the style, don't have em, no biggie. And Oda CAN draw Usopp without them cause he DID when he drew Jacob AS Usopp in that promotional letter, SO WHY DON'T YOU DRAW USOPP MORE LIKE JACOB NOW, ODA!?!?!? Ahem...I feel Usopp could be a bi boy. Genderfluid, or maybe in a way to boost his ego. You understand. Personally, I feel I would have to be very lucky to get with GOD Usopp, but maybe, just maybe...6/10.

Sanji: Tbh, he got off most easy for the New World redesigns. Really only switched his bangs and grew some beard. Kinda ugly but in that charming way, ya know? No real changes, he can be the Straw Hats local white boy. Just...please tone down the pervness. I was joking with the Luffy-Iñaki stuff, but please, make Sanji like he is in the live action. I will say he's been on good behavior since Fish-Man Island, so...I'd say Sanji is bi, maybe gay, but I find it funny the hypotheticals that a bi Sanji would be useless cause he couldn't hit men or women. But anyway Sanji is the reason Zoro comes outta the closet and they kiss at the end. But for me...he's not my type, but less not my type than Zoro, so...2/10

Tony Tony Chopper: Oh, Chopper. Poor, poor little thing you. Salty was right; Enies Lobby was the last time you were allowed to be interesting. Tho, I agree, with all the New World upgrades, I suppose controllable Monster Point was the one thing he needed...I mean I feel accessing his other forms without the Rumble Ball is fine enough. Maybe like...semi controllable Monster Point? I dunno. I feel his New World design cutes him up too much...reduce the hat down a bit and keep the goofier face he had from Drum Island, aka the best damn arc in the manga, argue with the wall. Man, I really hope he gets some cool shit when his Human-Human Fruit awakens, RIGHT, Oda!?!? Oh and self shipping? Uh...that's a child. -1/10

Nico Robin: Robin...oh, I love you. Not as much as Nami as I've come to realize, as she's a bit more my type but gosh I love Robin. She's been gettin a lotta love recently, for obvious reasons if keepin up, which I like. Main things with her is bring her bangs back (which the manga is already doin for super emotional reasons), and like Usopp, give her darker skin! Doesn't have to be as dark as Usopp, but some darker complexion would be nice. "But it was a tan, she's Russian". A tan she had for TWENTY YEARS? And only lost over a TWO year time skip? There can be black Russians. Toei inadvertently cooked early on and they were cowards for reversing that. I make it secret I enjoy thicker women, but honestly I think Robin works better as a lanky beanpole. Not to the...proportions Oda draws but def lean and tall. Good contrast to her buff hubby Franky. For fits, I'd really liked to see her wear more mom-style fits, or back to Cowboy Robin. Cowboy Robin was peak, argue with the wall. I feel she could be pan, maybe demigirl? Feels right with her powers, oddly enough. And like yeah, she's my fave behind Nami for Straw Hat self ship. 9/10

Franky: Franky is already SUPER perfect as is, and even his New World style has grown on me. Buuuuuuut...ugh, the shoulder pads...too much. I get he's top heavy, but that's just a bridge too far. I like his forearms being bigger, those should be kept. And maybe less "meaty"/thick fingers; I like em big, but it's funny he has a second pair of small hands in em. Def some more mechanical detail over his bod. His default hair should also go back to the pomp. I like the gimmick he changes it each arc, but the standard buzzcut kinda sucks. Like actually. You gotta understand, I consider pre-time skip Franky perfect character design. Legit, Oda peaked with him. Franky, def bi, but I could see him being trans! Maybe a bit on the nose with the whole "rebuilt himself" background, but it could work! Robin too, tbh. They can be t4t. Not my preferred, but cute! As he is, Franky is def a hunk. I like em big, yeh, and would prefer him fat strong, but strong on its own is nice. 7/10

Brook: Oh, Brook. Poor, poor Brook. It would have been so much better had there been another full arc between Thriller Bark and Sabaody to really get you with the crew (whichyoucankindaachivebywatchingFilmStrongWorldinbetweenTBandSAbutanactualbreatherarcbeforethetimeskipwouldhavebeennice), but even then you are still the best Straw Hat. Again. The wall. Suppose it's made up for the fact he's with the gang for the whole arc even before officially joining, which hadn't been done since, like, Usopp on Syrup Village, damn. But yeh! Like Franky, I kinda consider Brook's pre-time skip design peak, and his New World fit...bad. I get what it's goin for, but it's too many ideas! I feel Oda realizes that cause a lot of Brook's fits have been just his old look (Dressrosa, Whole Cake, Onigashima), which is nice. Skeleton in a suit and top hat, it's a classic. I like the crown hat tho for the "Soul King" aesthetic, but maybe smaller. More top hat than crown. And maybe he can just have themed suits, ya know? And yeh...like Sanji, turn down the perv elements. Like, it was funny the first two times cause "Haha, a skeleton asked for WHAT!?" but it lost its luster after that. At the very least, he's been on good behavior; last he did it genuinely was Punk Hazard I think, but he also pulled it on Big Mom at the end of Whole Cake is a genuinely awesome way (makes sense in context). Also, I feel Brook should be black. I get he's a skeleton now, obvs, but I dunno. Feels right for the Soul King. I have a feeling he'd be asexual—not out of choice, but...ya know—and maybe some level of agender? He is a skeleton after all. Who knows what being like that does do your personal perception. As a partner...eh. I love him, but as a friend! I'd wanna be a string duet with him! I feel Brook should be with a very specific type of person, ya know? Not that he's not my type, just I'm not for him. 3/10

Jimbei: Honestly, I'm not as madly in love with Jimbei as everyone else is! Yeah, he's great. Great in Impel Down, Fish-Man Island, Whole Cake, Wano. He's great! But I'm not drooling over him like some peeps are. And hey, more power to ya! Not much I'd change about his design...maybe make him thicker? Like, fat fat! Around the arms and such! Make him look like a strongman; would contrast nice to Franky's more bodybuilder-inspired physique. Maybe show off him being a lil older too? Gray streaks in his hair, hair a lil frizzy? Idk, just rambling. Tbh, Jimbei is either gay or straight. Feels right for him. As for me...he'd be a decent catch. Get it. Cause. Fish? Heh...5/10.

And that's em all! Granted, I have a few other, bigger OP crushes. Not many more (Perona, Law, Lilith), and I could include some honorary Straw Hats like my daughter Vivi and the cool boy guy man Yamato and maybe Lilith again cause I have theories tee hee hee. But eh, wanted to cover the main crew, so if I do wanna cover the others, I'll do it in a reblog. Who knows.

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avochele · 1 month ago

Text

The Idol - Ruby Red.

tags. idol!woozi x idol!oc, fluff, angst

headquarter.

Track #2.

synopsis. In wich a girl has a way too personal connection to a ceiling fan and in wich people need to learn that not everything is what it appears to be.

“People desire me. Because of red. Especially men. I became an object of desire. An object of love. An object that was made through the colour of red. I am red.”

warnings. toxic fans, obsession, anxiety, objectification(?), stalking, blood, obsessive crazy and toxic fans, oc is a simp for woozi (but honestly who isn't?), both are hopelessly in love and too dense to notice, I have no idea how recording a song or being an idol works so please excuse my messy excuse of a song production etc., obsessive fan incidents inspired by tvxq's sasaeng incidents (because no one in their right mind could come up with stuff like that) (more will be added if needed.)

note. guys i'm alive! i did not abandon this I promise. for some more aesthetically pleasing story you might want to check out my wattpad. i'm trying to update more regularly now but i can't promise anything. thank you always for supporting!

The room I’m in does not have a fan. Not surprising. Honestly.

I’ve been staring at Beomjus back for a good thirty minutes now. I can’t concentrate.

I couldn’t think of anything else besides yesterday night. Everytime i recall him I start seeing red specks everywhere. But this time it’s weird. They’re not overwhelming. Not too pushy.

They’re like a background noise. Always there but never too much. Never annoying. Just right. Just there.

Like people talking in a restaurante. Like my laundry machine turning. Like the sound of tires on asphalt. Barely noticeable but always aware that it’s there.

I’m warm. When thinking of him something like red heat creeps up my neck. Burning almost. But not hurting. Nor uncomfortable.

Weird. When was the last time it hasn’t made me uncomfortable? I don’t remember.

"Are you listening?“ I bite down on my thumb nail. I really should stop doing that.

"Byeol?“ How can someone be so pretty and not brag about it all the time?

"Byeol!“

"Yes?“ I look up. Beomju looks at me, his mouth forming a straight line. "Did you listen to anything I just said?“ he questions me.

I avoid eye contact, I have in fact not been listening. How could I with the red ruling over my thoughts. "Do you mind repeating?“ I ask carefully, pushing my glasses back onto my head, keeping my hair from falling into my face.

"I said we can start recording.“ He watches me as I get up grabbing the lyric sheet in front of me. "Are you okay?“ he asks as I open the door to the recording booth. "Yeah why?“ I ask him, my hand resting on the doorknob.

"You seem a little out of it. A little distracted.“ He says, leaning back in his chair. I shrug. "I’m fine.“ I say not wanting to admit that I in fact am distracted. But he doesn’t need to know why. I doubt that he believes me anyway when I say I'm not. I close the door, leaving all possible distractions on the other side.

I put the lyric sheet on the note stand and put my headphones on, readjusting my glasses on the bridge of my nose.

The next two hours are filled with singing, repeating, harmonising and repeating again until Beomju decides to take a break. We‘ve been making huge progress the last few days. Besides memorising the choreography until it‘s engraved inside of me like blood running through my veins. We‘ve finished recording the majority of the album, with only three b-sides left.

At some point Seungkwan had entered the studio and made himself comfortable on Beomjus couch. He apparently was supposed to bring him some notes of a demo song for SEVENTEEN. Now he‘s lounging around like he doesn‘t have a care in the world.

I let myself fall down next to him and take a big swig out of my water bottle. "Why are you here?“ I ask him, pushing my glasses up. I didn‘t see a reason for him to still be here after he succeeded in his mission to bring the notes.

"Jihoon Hyung told me to bring the notes and bother someone else.“ I almost choke on my water at the mention of my friends bandmates name. And I thought I had successfully banished him from my thoughts for the time being.

I nod absentmindedly. Seungkwan must have noticed that I won‘t be answering anytime soon. “Do you guys want to grab dinner somewhere, after you finish recording?“ he asks, brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

"Sure, why not?“ I shrug, pushing my thoughts of his attractive friend to the back. But not away.

We both look expectantly at Beomju. He had his chair turned towards us, following our conversation. "I can‘t. I got some more work after this.“ He gestures to the stack of paper Seungkwan had put on his desk earlier.

"So it‘s just us?“ I ask him, taking another sip. He thinks for a moment. "Do you mind if some of my members join us? They haven‘t had dinner yet.“

I blink at him.

If Woozi‘s coming I doubt I‘ll be able to even make it to the dinner place, without crashing the car.

"Sure.“ I say trying to not mind my heart's fastened pace as I think of what he might look like from across the table, under the cozy orange light and through the steam of the sizzling hotpot.

"Cool, I‘ll ask them.“ I nod. My water bottle is empty now.

"Continue?“ I ask Beomju, who is typing away on his phone, as I try to flee my very attractive thoughts. "If you‘re done talking, sure.“ he says, putting his phone to the side.

As I note Seungkwan's disinterest in continuing the conversation, I get up with a deep breath and grab another bottle from the cooler. I make a mental note to get Beomju new water the next time I see him and close the recording booth door behind me.

Drowning the few leftover red specks, as well as Seungkwan's babbling over what to get for dinner, out.

The dinner place right next to the Han River is relatively empty. It had been pouring for an hour now and there was no sign of it stopping anytime soon.

The round table we’re sitting at is filled with numerous side dishes and a steaming hot pot in the middle. We are sitting at the very back corner of the tent.

The air is slightly damp and I’m almost hundred percent sure there is a puddle forming under my feet.

To my luck Woozi had not joined us when we had left. I didn’t know whether to be happy or slightly disappointed.

"This is so good, I can’t believe we never went here.“ Seokmin says from across the table. I grin into the bowl in front of me.

"Yeah I can’t believe you never took me here.“ Seungkwan says with a mouth full of rice. I raise my eyebrows at his accusing tone. "I couldn’t stand the thought of having to see your face everytime I come here.“

Joshua lets out a loud laugh at my statement. Seungkwan scowls at him.

"Here, stop pouting.“ I say, passing him a spoon full of rice, pork and kimchi. He eats it reluctantly.

Behind Dokyeom and Chan, two girls started whispering to each other looking in our direction. Instinctively I pull my baseball cap a bit more into my face.

I normally don’t mind meeting fans randomly, but it’s different when I’m out with other Idols. The rumours seem to write themselves.

I take a closer look at them, trying to make it not too obvious. They seem to be in middle school. I look at my phone. The time reads 10:46pm. What are middle schoolers doing at this time still out?

I don’t think they’ll do anything out of the ordinary, but I still couldn’t stop myself from looking over to them from time to time. They must have seen us leaving the car and followed us here.

Joshua next to me must have noticed them too as he moves a little closer to Chan and away from me.

There is no doubt they don’t know who we are. The only thing we can do now is to try to avoid starting rumours. Damage control, Taeja would call it.

The plates have been emptied by now and everyone is just talking away. I catch a few crumbs about the comeback, music shows and toothpaste?

As the night went on the restaurant tent emptied more and more until the only people left were the middle school girls, a group of middle aged men and us.

I wondered if the girls left if we did. I don’t want them to sit alone at this time with the men. Even though they probably followed us here.

"I think we should go, it’s kinda late. I promised my manager to sleep early today.“ I say, looking at the boys. "Since when do you listen to her?“ Seungkwan asks, confused as to why I want to leave so suddenly.

"Since now.“

The girls had left short after us. I saw them leave the tent from our parking spot. I felt relieved seeing them walk towards the train station. If for our safety or theirs I’m not sure. I just hope they didn’t get into too much trouble for coming home late.

The hallway to my apartment is quiet. I look at my phone as I round the corner. Seungkwan had sent me a picture of him and the guys. They got some takeout at the restaurant for the members that stayed at the company.

I suppose my secret place isn‘t so secret anymore. But that‘s okay. I don‘t eat there that often anyway. Makes it more special. Might be nice going there with other people for once.

I pull at my shirt. It sticks to my body. We got wet when walking back to my car. My straightened hair had surrendered to the curls now flowing down my back. I’m cold. Even though the hallway is warm I feel a chill clinging to my back. Crawling up my neck, waiting for the perfect moment to attack.

I narrow my eyebrows at the sight in front of me. There‘s a little elephant plushie leaning against my door. I crouch down in front of it, turning it around in my hands. "What are you doing here?“ I ask quietly.

Subconsciously I turn to look at the apartment door at the end of the hallway. A family of four lives there. He is a doctor and she a lawyer. They have twins. A girl and a boy. Maybe it belongs to them?

I decide it‘s too late now to ask them as I check the time on my phone. 1:37am. I get up.

From the corner of my eye I notice movement. My head snaps around. The hallway ends in that direction. There's a big picture on the wall. The green and gold specks makes it look harder to make as it probably was. It‘s the first thing you see when you leave the elevator. Next to it is a plant. But other than that nothing.

Must have been the fatigue.

Still with my phone and the blue elephant in my hand I punch in the code to my apartment and go inside. The door closes with a short melody as I take my shoes off.

I place the elephant on the table in my living room. I make a mental note to return it tomorrow. I‘m sure they miss it already.

As I get into bed I feel like something's off. Like I missed something. As if the chill is sitting in a corner waiting for an opportunity.

And all of a sudden the red is back. Drowning my vision and making my heart beat all the faster. I try to distract myself.

Turning on my music. Answering messages. Looking through the pictures we took earlier. Nothing changed.

Realising I won‘t reach the quiet I‘d like to reach in my head. I place my phone on the nightstand, putting on a different playlist.

The red never leaving my mind. My heart beats faster. Sleep comes hard that night.

TAGLIST. @hazeljisulatte @thepoopdokyeomtouched @berriebeetles @rvebyntvr @neivivenaj @cookiearmy

This work will be simultaneo publsihed on my Wattpad [click here].

All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a story review.

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exhausted-archivist · 3 months ago

Text

Early Game First Impressions

I have some thoughts and critiques about it from at least an early point.

So far, being 28 hours in (and I just got my 4th companion so the time I've been in the game isn't really indicative of my plot progress) I have some general thoughts. None of them are spoilers, but to be safe, I will keep them below the cut.

Please note, these are my first impressions. I'm doing a mostly blind playthrough and I'm mostly sharing to start a dialogue but also document my feelings. Please be respectful of that and others who may comment. Also my comments on armor/clothing is going to be a whole seperate kit and kaboodle.

My main focuses based on priority to me:

Combat

Flashing accessibility issues

The Bloom effect

Character creator

Photomode

Writing (General)

Dialogue and Banter

Maps and Quest Guidance

Food Lore

Combat, Accessibility, and Bloom Render

So far my biggest complaint is related to the combat. In terms of general enjoyment, this is one of the most enjoyable combat systems in the series for me. The flow is nice, I like the UI, overall a solid 7/10 for me. Except for one thing: I hate button mashing, I cannot handle it for too long, it is a large part of the reason I've never played through dao again. I found that da2 and dai really found a nice middle ground with it. But with datv, the issues are that if I press and hold, it will charge attacks and not continuously fire them off like in the previous two games.

I also don't like how frequently my companions bark at me in combat. Lucanis yelling "Move Rook!" while I'm stuck in a corner or something has thrown off my timing and is also just kinda annoying at times. Something I also don't like when I'm trying to explore but more on that later.

Additionally, I find the rebinding of keys is way too restrictive. It is hard to find a calibration that works, it doesn't solve the button mashing, and it isn't any better for mouse and keyboard. The fact that (at least last time I tried) I couldn't rebind the keys from ASWD to the arrow keys is a huge miss to me. So, while I find combat engaging and fun with a nice flow, button mashing and the key rebinding for combat are a big con. Particularly from an accessibility standpoint.

Speaking of accessibility, while the accessibility for the game is robust (but for some features an okay attempt for a first attempt) not being able to adjust the flashing rendering is the second biggest. That is a major accessibility thing and one of the bare minimum features I've come to expect in most games. Now while at present it hasn't been too bad for me since the prologue, I do not know if it will be an issue again later on. The flashing paired with the way the bloom renders, makes the game very migraine triggering if I'm not careful.

So on the note of the bloom, it is another big con for me because it messes with my eyes. While I can remove it in photomode and see what it looks like without it, I think it could have done with less bloom and still looked good. I do like how it has an almost Dishonored texture rendering to the people. I am curious if they pushed it a little harder if it would be more interesting visually and make the bloom more effective. Not only that, but I see the vision, I appreciate it, but not really friendly to me. Which is okay, to be clear. This is one of those things where the vision is great, the execution might not be universally loved, but it is good. Sort of like Arcane (though not to that level), I will never be able to watch it because of the flashing. But I know it is still an amazing show.

Character Creator

Now, in terms of the character creator I think they could have pushed things more. I'm over all very impressed and I love what they did, the variety and extremes you can push are amazing. From a technical standpoint it is gorgeous, and I overall rate it 8/10.

On a minor point, I do wish we could adjust eye size/shape independently of the head morph as well as change the mouth shape. I also wish there were more extreme limits to the body morph. While there is an okay range for what we have, I do wish I could make a heavier set character than I have, whether they're more muscular defined (think Bull and his almost barrel chested build) or someone who is just heavy. But I also wish I could make someone who looked like Isabela in da2 proportionately. I do get some of the criticism that cropped up, though I think the way most of it was presented/worded was exaggerated because the bust and glute sizes weren't "hollywood" style.

But my biggest issue with the cc is there is not any true dark skin tones. They do not go dark enough, they get close, but I couldn't make anyone who looks like several of my family members or oc skin tones I have. This is a major con for me, because they were heading in the right direction and then fell disappointingly short. I think it likely has to do with lighting, to which I seriously think they need to work on learning to how to light darker skins. I think they also need to learn how to make and layer darker skins. They have the basics down, now they need to push it further.

I also have to speak towards the fact that it seems with the bloom rendering and this art style, they did not push things hard enough to allow us to play older characters in appearance. And because all non-important npcs are made with the same cc as rook, we are pushed to having a very small visual age range for the game. Wrinkles do not appear well or strong, and it is disappointing to say the least. It has always been a weak point in Dragon Age.

Connected to these two points, but on a much more minor note, I think having complexion cover skin texture, freckles, dark circles, birthmarks, and acne was too much. They should have had 2-3 selectors for that - and this might be a rendering, technology issue. But not being able to be freckled and wrinkled or have dark circles, falls short, and it especially impacts being able to create an older Inquisitor. This also touches on the imbalance of which they aged femme presenting characters vs masc presenting characters, but that is another post.

Moving onto the last point I have thoughts on, is the hair. While they definitely improved in the hair options, they still lean heavily one way or the other. Especially with the offset of non-qunari getting 88 hairstyles and qunari getting 33. While we no longer have 50 shades of bald, and they heard our thoughts on hair and horns being connected for qunari, the large gap between the two categories is unfair. Especially given the fewer textured options for qunari and the even fewer length variations. It also looks like some were removed from what we saw during marketing. I've also seen the call for bangs, while they aren't something I usually desire I do agree the few bang choices are a notable.

Photomode

I'm going to be blunt with this one as it is the most cosmetic of them all, I feel like there could have been more options. I love we got it, but it's pretty bare bones comparatively with others we get.

I think looking at Horizon (Zero Dawn and Forbidden West) would be a good reference for a strong photomode. CP77 if they went further. Being able to add different effects/filters or even remove some depending on where you're photomoding would go miles. Being able to remove dead enemies (that you didn't kill) would also be nice. But I think the biggest thing is the limited range that the camera can be from Rook. It likely has to do with rendering range, but I think they could have pushed it more. That's all. I've been living in photomode though, using it near constantly to be honest. Just a qol thing.

The Writing: General, Dialogue, and Banter

Off the bat, I find the writing of this game to be the most Dragon Age between Inquisition and The Veilguard. The series has always been campy and quipy. It is the same semi-serious stuff I've expected from BioWare. I do think they have improved in some areas, stayed the same in others, and got weaker in some.

One of the things I think BioWare, especially the da team, has always struggled with is hitting the sweet spot that doesn't isolate new players but also doesn't aggravate lore nerds or long time players. DA2 I think is probably the best of the series at that. But with datv, I find points of aggravation with the wording, just like I did with Inquisition when I went to replay it after having started the series from The Stolen Throne and playing all the way through to Inquisition again. I cannot decide if they have gotten better or what, however I do think the glossary is an excellent addition. Even if I argue with some of them haha.

A clear point of improvement for me so far is the line summaries. I find they are better than dai, though there are some misses.

In terms of banter, I think I'm starting to see what people have been talking about in terms of its substance. However, I don't think it is unique to datv. Rarely has banter effected anything outside that moment, especially for da2-dai. I've only played dao once so I don't know if they tied banter into main story more or not. For me, banter not having substantial effect outside the moment isn't surprising, and I don't know if that is something I was hoping would change or not. This one I think might change as I play.

I also get what people are saying about the banter erring on the side of toothless, but I only see that in like comparison to da2 where companions were brutal with each other. I would say it is the same level/as close to dai. But I'm still early and don't have all the companions. So another thing that might change when I play further.

Maps and Quest Guidance

They did a really good at fixing the dai overcorrection of maps from da2. They're compact, relatively easy to navigate, and so far a distinct lack of bears!

Though while they pulled back on one overcorrection I feel in turn that they overcorrected on the guidance/party direction banter in response to the loud feedback of dai not having enough guidance. This touches back on the companions yelling at me while I'm exploring, or the persistent markers and pop ups. While turning off some of the UI/setting elements greatly helped, and I have heard that it gets less demanding further in, it is a con for me.

Delving into maps though, as someone who is fixated on maps I have thoughts and feelings over the area maps as well as the map texutures the display as setting design. So far, I'm dissappointedwith the set design ones. I haven't seen any new ones, they reuse the map released with the Tevinter Nights and then the first Thedas map they've used since dao. Now those aren't inherently negative, but I like maps and I was hoping for more, especially at the beginning.

Food Lore

Okay, I know this is last and I said I listed these in like priority, but this one was a HUGE point for me and I wanted to end on a positive note. The food lore so far is rich, it is clearly done with some thought, there are more varieties, and I am thrilled with what I've seen. It is rich, indepth, they've added a lot more than I thought they would. So far, the location I've found to have the most rich lore is Treviso. With a nutrition specialist and Julia, the fruit merchant who's husband is allergic to alubia carilla (black eyed peas). It is something so small comparitively that makes the world so rich. I've been compiling and collecting, and I have been flooded with people sending me screencaps and dialogue snippets (without spoiling anything) and I am so overjoyed and appreciative.

#datv spoilers #da4 spoilers #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age 4 #datv #da4 #BioWare critical #dragon age critique #long post #first impressions and thoughts #If anyone starts anything remotely shady on this post I will be blocking.#If you put spoilers. I will be blocking.#Lets be nice and have an actual dialogue.

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kenslilove · 1 year ago

Text

᯽៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Repost of Draken having the horsecock canon ™️ of the TR universe

AN. I said I needed something heavy on my tongue… ken is heavy, huge, barley fits. Just how we like it. Yes this is a repost, yes it makes me dizzy and I hope it does the same for you <33

W. NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI short and sweet, but not darken’s cock, he’s soft with you despite his massive shlong, very soft pet names like baby girl and princess, size kink for sure, gagging, you just really wanna take him all in but it’s a work in progress ///: <3

Do not repost, share or copy onto any other platform ‼️ reblogs, comments, feedback are greatly appreciated

He knows it’s not nice to chuckle when your on your knees for him, giving him the pleasure, focusing on his needs

But he just can’t help it. He can’t help it because it’s just so cute how you look at his cock. With furrowed brows, lips pursed with a bit of defeat, want, determination. It’s all tied in on that scrunched up look on your face. Not to mention just how small your hand looks pumping his girth, fingers just barely able to touch one another once you pump all the way down to his base.

He can’t hold it back, it’s a soft little noise that only makes you pout more.

“Baby girl, S’okay—“

“No Ken, m’gunna do it. Gunna take it all.”

You said that last time, and the time before that. And probably even the time before that. He knew you wanted to be able to take all of him, wanted your throat stuffed full of him and your nose pressed up against his pelvic bone.

But Draken also knew, simply put, that he was hung. And even as your pretty lips brushed over his tip, giving it a loving kiss before smearing your shiny lipgloss down his major vein. He knew he wasn’t gunna fit.

“Baby.” He murmured, his hand pausing the strokes to your hair to grab your chin gently. He tilted your face up slightly, holding back the laugh that threatened to bubble up when his cock bobbed, almost the same length as your cute, pouting face. “You know I don’t care that you can’t take it all—“

“But I want to, Kenny. Please, lemme, gunna try again.”

He hummed. He couldn’t say no to you, not when you started to pump him a bit faster, and especially not when you stuck out your tongue, licking at the seam in his balls just to hear him groan softly. His hand was in your hair again, fingers nothing but gentle as he spread his legs a little further apart, letting you get comfortable while he held your nape.

“Alright princess. Go ahead.”

You were almost giddy, pressing a final kiss to his leaky, swollen tip before you opened up your lips nice and wide for him. He watched intently, a small smile staying on his face as you swallowed him up. Your lips were so soft, tongue pressing up against the bottom of his cock as you sank, further… further.

You were about half way when his tip was against the back of your throat. You paused here, and he could feel how your lips started to tremble, how the hand on his base gripped him a little tighter. His cock twitched a bit as you swallowed around him, his tongue coming out to wet his lips as he watched how you hesitantly pushed down further—

You gagged, hard, again. Tears rushing to your eyes and making you pull back. His cock bobbed when it was free, almost smacking back against his abdomen and snapping all the strings of drool so they’d cling to your trembling lower lip. Your whines were precious, eyes shiny when you looked up at him.

“Ken”

“Good job, little love.” He praised you despite the clear disappointment in your own gaze, his thumb pressing a steady pressure against your neck, trying to get you to relax. “Took more than last time—“

“But still not all of it.”

“S’okay.” He shushed you, leaning down to press a fond kiss onto your forehead. Your head laid on his thigh in defeat, lips latching onto the sensitive skin of his base to suckle on it, the sweet vibrations of your whines making his hips twitch. “You don’t need to take it all, little love.”

“I will… m’gunna…” Your mumbles were pressed against his skin, and you looked up at him with certainty, despite the tears and drool that stuck to your cheeks. “I’ll do it, Ken.”

“You will.” He helped you guide your lips back to his tip, his hand still forever gentle as it cupped your jaw, biting his lip as you sucked his tip like your favourite flavour of lollipop. “Eventually. We got all the time in the world to work that pretty throat open, sweetheart”

#yea #mhm it’s filthy <33 #tr draken #tokyo revengers drabbles #tr drabbles #draken x reader #draken x y/n #draken x you #draken ryuguji #ken ryuuguji #ken ryuuguji x y/n #ken ryuuguji x you #ken ryuuguji x reader #tr smut #draken smut #ken ryuuguji smut

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 6 months ago

Note

Hi! I think Season 5 was a really weird time to invert the love square - it just kind of happens, and the reasons don’t feel very organic, to say the least - I think fandom already has enough to say about it (and hey, you’ve probably talked about it too!)

So if you had to do it (keeping in mind 5 seasons, and canon’s overall structure), where would you invert it? I’ve had this question for a while, and recently arrived to, I’d do it in Miracle Queen, possibly show Marinette or Adrien reconsidering in a post credit scene (or in general, after the scene where they’re all sitting and Marinette goes for Luka). Main reason for me is, Miracle Queen is pretty inconclusive on the shipping aspect - it opens with Adrien being uncertain of his relationship with Kagami, and ends with Adrien still unsure, and Marinette finally accepting Luka.

On the Marinette side, that last part might seem pretty conclusive, but after she suffered a major loss (going with canon’s “Marinette lost Fu” here despite the many problems I have with the way Fu was written), I think the emotional void really couldn’t be properly filled with Luka, and had Chat Noir’s character not gone down the drain after the season finale, he’d be the only real option Marinette can consider even talking to - temp heroes outed, kwamis being glorified toys, barely anyone even knowing Fu and all that. In my ideal world, she would’ve at least moved on from Adrien (wherein canon of course has to insist on the OTP), and I feel Chat Noir fills the void very naturally.

On the Adrien side, I think him interrupting the kiss was a sign of him not knowing what he wants out of a relationship in general - he seemed to be moving on from Ladybug in Hearthunter, and the Ladynoir in Miracle Queen to me felt much closer to them being together against the world (which is… exactly what the episode says out loud), not falling in love. I don’t think Kagami would want a relationship with Adrien after that whole mess (and that did end up being the case), so the closest non Ladybug option would be Marinette. So not a random “I love Marinette because she’s so nice and she kissed me after I pranked her” (canon please 🙄), but more of a “Marinette has always been so nice to me, instead of bothering Ladybug even more I’ll at least try getting a little closer to Marinette” and things develop from there on out.

But Season 4 threw my hope and dreams onto a burning landfill so that was cool. Anyways, how would you structure it? This got a bit long haha

Don't apologize, that was an interesting and quite good argument for flipping the crushes at Miracle Queen. I hadn't really thought about it before, but that would have been a much more satisfying way to shake things up in season four instead of waiting until season five and then speed running the flip only to immediately undo Marinette's side of the flip all within six episodes. I think that your alternate season four could have worked, though it would require season four to really lean into the ending of season three instead of largely ignoring it.

Since you asked where I'd do it if I had to flip the crushes, I'll give you my thoughts, but first I want it put on the record that I hate the idea of both crushes flipping mid-show. One crush flipping feels reasonable, but both? At the same time? That's really hard for me to buy, especially since you'd have to do it pretty quickly given the way canon is structured. You can't drag things out for episodes at a time. Most things take, at most, two episodes.

I'm also not sure what the point of flipping the crushes is. It feels less like narrative progression and more like a stalling tactic since the love square will only get together if one crush flips. Both crushes? Same square, different angle (I jokingly call it the love diamond.)

And yet, canon actually managed to pull off a very solid reverse crush setup. If season five had started off with the crushes flipped, then I would have totally believed it. Marinette just had her crush on Adrien cost her all of the miraculous. That's a very good way to kill a crush just like finding out Chat Noir's identity is a very good way to banish her fears from that event, allowing her to have the confidence to stay with Adrien post-reveal.

Similarly, Adrien just spent a whole season being sad about Ladybug not giving him enough attention, leading up to an episode where Marinette saw that he was suffering and reached out (if only because of magic). I absolutely believe that he'd start falling for Marinette and be less upset with Ladybug post-reveal now that he knows that she has been supporting him all along. He was just looking for support on the wrong side of the mask.

Instead of taking advantage of that setup, canon delayed the flip a few episodes and made it wholly unbelievable. They really give us an episode where Ladynoir got married and had children, followed it up with the episode where the crushes flipped, and then tried to convince us that Marinette was the one who hadn't really fallen in love with Chat Noir. Marinette. The girl whose deepest desire is apparently marriage and children with Chat Noir. But her love isn't real? Really? Yet Adrien is really over Ladybug?

Bull. Shit.

Jubilation is not that setup you go with if Adrienette is your goal. It's the setup for Ladynoir.

Anyway, back to your question! As I detailed above, season five's intro episodes feel like the most obvious place to flip the square. I'd also be interested to see someone do it at Miracle Queen like you discussed, though it would be much less straight forward than season five, making it a better fit for a fanfic than canon in my opinion as I think you'd be hard pressed to do it well within the confines of canon's structure.

My other top choice is Origins because I am a love diamond purist. I think that it's the easiest way to fix a lot of canon's issues. For example: Marinette hanging magazine clippings of her friend/crush all over her walls for all to see with the full knowledge that she actually knows this guy? Kinda weird. Why are you writing it like she has a celebrity crush and not a "real person" crush?

Marinette hanging magazine clippings of her secret hero partner all over her walls? Totally understandable. It's not like she can act like it's a "real person" crush without giving herself away or looking unhinged. Plus how else is she supposed to get pictures of him? It's not like she can take some of her own. That would lead to a lot of awkward questions! She'd also have no reason to think that he'd ever see her shrine. 😈

#anon ask #love diamond #ml writing critical #ml writing salt #There are so many ways a reverse crush setup improves things guys #The brain rot I have around this is endless

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lavender-inkwell-99 · 8 months ago

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Robot HRT: Day 0

After months of seeing all the awesome therian HRT art on here, I decided to make my own entry. I can't draw, but I can write, so here is part 1 of robot hrt!

Harsh fluorescent light cascades off the clinically white walls of the doctor’s office. Ontop of a worn, particle board desk sits a high stack of papers - various consent forms and waivers all signed and stamped, and presented in triplicate. Behind it sits a weathered man, bald barring the sides, and bespectacled with coke bottle glasses. Whilst leafing through the pile, he glances at the woman across from him. Dark, tired eyes look back at him through markedly less thick glasses. Her cherubian face is emotionless beyond a clear look of exhaustion. To get to this point alone had been almost too much for her to handle, but finally she is here.

“Seems like you have all the necessary paperwork,” he says apprehensively. Taking a deep breath before continuing. “As you know, I normally specialize in metazoic HRT, but thanks to groundbreaking research we now offer what you’re requested.”

He remakes eye contact, looking for acknowledgement. The woman remains silent and still. None of this news to her. She’s who spent more than a year trying to get to this appointment after all.

“Yes, well, as I was saying, we do now offer the medication you desire. Micronized droidsterol, better known by the brand name of Cyberstrone, is a once daily, 200 MG capsule that you’d be taking each morning with breakfast. Unlike other medications, this is a complex network of nanomachines that will work in unison to replace organic materials with inorganic ones. Major effects early on are headaches and cramping, compulsion to eat metal and plastics, or drink oil and gasoline, as well as internal and external irritation as the cells are replaced. Side effects may include but are not limited to weight gain, weight loss, suicidal ideation, depersonalization, derealization, death, and even loss of humanity.”

On this last one, he yet again makes eye contact, searching for a reaction. Again, nothing. In reality, she had barely been listening. This rundown was nothing but a scare tactic. One final review of the risks to see if she could be swayed from this path.

Finally, she speaks. Her flat voice carrying no tone but impatience. “Is that all?”

“Well, yes, but it really is important you understand the severity of this choice. Afterall, this medication is rather new and...”

“Doctor, I understand.” She cuts him off, slightly raising her voice, yet remaining monotone. “I have been working towards this since Cyberstrone started human trials. I am fully aware of the risks, and the effects. Now, please stop wasting more of both our time, and, please, write me a prescription.”

The doctor sighs, but begins to enter information into the computer. “As you wish. This will be a 90 day supply, but I will need to see you every 30 days to check your progress. You can talk to my receptionist to schedule your first follow up.”

“Thank you. See you in a month, doctor.”

#robot hrt #therian hrt #otherkin hrt #hrt #otherkin #robot #trans #therian

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woman-of-balnain · 2 years ago

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The Claim Part 5/5 (Alpha Rick x Omega Reader)

Previous Part | Collection Masterlist | AO3 Ver. | Next Work

Pairing: Rick Grimes/Fem!Reader

Summary: Now that your heat has arrived, Rick fully claims you as his.

A/N: Okay, here is the final part. Happy Valentine’s Day lmao.

First thing: I forgot to add earlier that this part will involve breeding kink elements from both Rick and the Reader. Sorry, I added it on the ao3 version but not here. So if that’s not your thing, don’t read.

This is like the size of two normal parts lol and out of the roughly 8k words, approx. 7k is smut 😅

The last bit is just some plot to wrap the story up. I feel like that bit is a little too short, so I might extend it later.

I’ve given it one read over before posting but it’s so damn long and there might still be some typos and/or errors. Hopefully nothing major.

Lastly, I do plan to write some more stuff with this particular Rick/Reader pairing, exploring some other stuff that will take place later in twd series. If you have any requests for them lmk.

Anyway, enjoy 😏

Warnings: Rick has A LOT of stamina, multiple male orgasms, multiple female orgasms, multiple creampies, shower sex, doggstyle, cowgirl, oral sex (male and female receiving), mentions of tasting blood (from claiming bites), deepthroating

Word Count: 8,308

Dividers by: @newlips + @cafekitsune

Rick and Glenn had found a small and abandoned hunting cabin, that sat secluded in the woods. With your mind addled and hazed from your heat, you barely took notice of the setup, but your inner omega was happy to see that they’d established a perimeter with empty cans and bottles that would make noise to alert Rick if any walkers came too close.

Your alpha didn’t waste any time once you arrived. Rick threw you down onto the bed, his hands instantly falling to the waistband of his pants once you were laying down in front of him. You watched with a hungry gaze as he unbuckled his belt, your slick pooling between your legs with anticipation.

“You think this is a show, ‘mega?” He growled out, still angry from seeing you taking comfort in Daryl. “Clothes off. Now.”

He pulled the belt away from his jeans, flinging it off to the side, but not before unsheathing the knife he kept holstered on it. Despite the way your heated skin made your clothes feel like they were scratching uncomfortably against you, every fiber of your being was so entranced by him that your hands fumbled clumsily with your dress, not wanting to take your attention off him.

Rick was much more calculated and composed in his movements, eyes watching you intensely as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. When he’d gotten rid of that too, and you had still made no progress in getting rid of your own clothing, Rick came onto the bed, moving on top of you and caging your body beneath his.

“These damned dresses,” he muttered with a mix of annoyance and appreciation.

He moved one hand down over your chest and then your stomach before he bunched up the skirt of the short summer dress, revealing your clothed pussy. You were soaking wet, causing the material of your white panties to be practically transparent. Rick glided two of his long fingers over you, teasing your clit, which caused your back to arch and your hips to buck with desperate need.

“Please, Alpha…” you whined, unable to wait any longer.

Rick’s gaze was dark and fiery, showing that he was just as eager, but he still had a lot more control than you did. When he raised the knife still held in his other hand, pointing it down at you, logically you should have been scared.

But you knew that Rick wouldn’t hurt you, and the deep lust in his gaze reassured you of that fact. He brought the blade down slowly, applying just enough pressure to the material of your dress to cut into it and give him an opening.

He flung the knife off carelessly after that, letting it clang onto the floor somewhere across the room. His hands were all over you then, as he tore your dress apart, desperate to explore the skin it concealed underneath. His gaze only grew impossibly darker when he saw that you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Naughty girl,” he chastised you heatedly, his hands moving to squeeze your now exposed breasts.

“Oh god,” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

His fingers teased your nipples, tugging and stroking them until they were achingly hard. Then you let out a salacious moan as Rick’s head dipped, taking one of the sensitive peaks between his lips, his tongue and teeth tormenting you further.

Your hips bucked again, and he moved his free hand between your legs, right where you were desperate to be touched. Rick’s attention on your breasts never faltered as his fingers pushed your panties to the side, giving him access to your dripping wet pussy.

He thrust two fingers into you, sliding in easily due to the amount of slick there. Your body moved wildly, the heat inside of you driving you crazy and sweat coating every inch of your skin. You were desperate for release, felt like you needed it, and Rick was quickly getting you there.

But then his mood darkened as he pushed his fingers in a little more roughly, while his other hand and his teeth tugged hard on your nipples.

“You were curled up to another alpha,” he pointed out angrily, pulling back to look you in the eye. “While you were this wet, Omega.”

“I… I’m sorry,” you cried out, not wanting him to be mad. “I needed you so badly and you weren’t there…”

“You’re mine,” he reminded you possessively. “This body, this pussy… everything about you is mine.”

“Yes,” you moaned out instantly, agreeing wholeheartedly. “I’m yours.”

Rick pressed his body closer to yours, his bare chest coming into contact with your heated skin. His nipples brushed against yours, teasing you both and his eyes fluttered shut with a groan. He rested his forehead against your own, his warm breath fanning out over your lips as his fingers continued their rapid thrusting in and out of your pussy.

“Show me,” he requested breathlessly, his thumb moving up to rub against your clit. “Cum for me, omega. Show me you’re mine.”

He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting that one perfect spot, while his thumb continued rubbing and flicking against your clit.

“Fuck,” you whined. “Rick, I… I’m…”

“Let go, baby,” he murmured soothingly, rubbing his cheek affectionately against yours.

He pressed down hard against your clit and your body gave him exactly what he wanted. You felt the waves of pleasure overcome you, your eyes squeezing shut and your mouth falling open as a deep moan escaped your lips.

“Good girl,” he praised, loving the way you tightened around him.

You saw stars and your mind was in a state of euphoric bliss. Rick trailed kisses along your scent gland while his fingers continued to stimulate you, waiting patiently for you to come down from your high.

When your eyes lazily fluttered open again and your body settled, you found Rick gazing at you with a mix of emotions. There was still that dark and heated lust in his eyes, but there was also deep care and affection and you thought, that due to the intensity of it, maybe it could have been akin to love.

He didn’t give you much time to ponder over it though, because he quickly bent his head down and captured your lips in a searing kiss. The burning feeling of your heat had settled temporarily thanks to your orgasm, so you let yourself enjoy the feel of his mouth languidly caressing yours.

Rick gently pulled his fingers from your pussy, allowing both of his hands to tease your inner thighs. He alternated between squeezing you possessively, his fingers digging into your skin, and lightly caressing you, leaving trails of goosebumps in the wake of his touch.

His lips, the bottom one so much fuller than the other, enticed your own with their slow and calculated movements. His tongue moved in perfect harmony with your own, leaving you breathless.

Eventually, his head pulled back and you tried to lift yours too, chasing his mouth to continue the heated kiss. But Rick just bit down on your lower lip, gently tugging on it before he completely moved away, leaning back to take you in with his lustful gaze. The effects of your heat were building up again, demanding more.

“Rick,” you moaned out. “Please, Alpha, I need you.”

His eyes fell to the apex of your thighs and his fingers tugged a little at your panties before his impatience won over. Pulling his hands away from you, Rick moved them to his jeans, quickly unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper before tugging them down his hips.

Then his hands were back on you, pushing your panties further to the side so that your pussy was exposed enough for him. Not wasting a second, Rick pushed forward and thrust into you deeply, almost to the hilt and causing you both to let out desperate moans.

“Damn it, Omega,” he grit out in pleasure. “You’re so tight, squeezing down on me perfectly.”

As if in response to his words, your pussy clamped down even harder on his cock, causing his hands to reach for your hips instinctively, gripping them tightly. He kept his hold on you, using it for leverage as he pounded into you over and over and over again, setting a brutal pace.

“You’re not…” he got out between his thrusts. “Ever gonna… even look… at another alpha… again.”

He said it like it was a promise, as though he intended to imprint himself somehow on your body so that you were constantly reminded of him. Apparently, he didn’t realize that he’d already pretty much done so.

“I only want you,” was your response, promising him exactly what he wanted.

Rick leaned down, kissing you hard. The change in his angle caused him to move deeper and his cock brushed against that bundle of nerves inside you again. You gasped and moaned into his mouth, hips thrashing wildly in desperate need.

He kept you steady with the hold he still had on you, stopping you from thrusting your hips so high that he would slip out. Instead, he ensured that you felt every inch of his bare cock, the silky texture of the skin brushing against your sensitive walls and driving you closer and closer to the edge.

He never let up in his forceful thrusts, fucking you hard, deep and fast, until your thoughts drifted away into a mindless haze and the only thing left was Rick and how he made you feel. All the while he kept kissing you, lips claiming yours possessively until yours were swollen and bruised and aching for more.

With each push into your pussy, the sweat-slicked skin and light hairs on his pelvis brushed against your clit and stimulated you further. You were clinging to his back, nails digging into his skin, but Rick didn’t seem to care.

Finally, his lips left yours and your eyes opened to see his own lost in a state of ecstasy. He was just as close to cumming as you were, if not closer.

“’m gonna fill you up, sweetheart,” he promised in a daze, one of his hands moving to rest on your lower stomach. “Fuck my cum into you until your belly’s swollen with my child.”

“Oh god, Rick,” you moaned with an eagerness you’d never felt before.

“Gonna make sure everyone knows you’re mine,” he continued heatedly, head dipping again to kiss along your neck.

You nodded fervently, loving the sound of everything he said, but you doubted he noticed, since he was preoccupied by lavishing your scent gland with attention. Rick gave a few more deep and forceful thrusts before the head of his cock hit your cervix and he groaned out desperately.

His fingers dug into your waist, holding you steady as he came deep inside of you. The warm feel of his cum filling you up and the way his cock throbbed against your tight walls sent you over the edge. You spasmed around him, pussy clenching him even tighter, milking him completely.

Rick’s teeth grazed against your scent gland, and you tilted your head obediently, offering yourself for him to claim you. But then he pulled his head away and you let out a whine of frustration, not understanding his reluctance.

His gaze was still addled with lust, but there was an underlying sadness in his eyes that you couldn’t comprehend. When your legs wrapped tighter around him and you squeezed around his cock again, he lowered his head to your shoulder, biting down hard.

It wasn’t where you wanted or needed him, but the shock of his teeth piercing into your skin and the fact he was still thrusting deeply into you, albeit more slowly, sent you over the edge yet again.

It was like a second wave of your first orgasm, with the intensity becoming even greater. It was enough for you to lose yourself again, forgetting about your disappointment for a moment and just enjoying the feel of Rick completely surrounding you.

As your bodies settled, his tongue soothed the bite he’d left on your shoulder and his fingers caressed along the feverish skin of your stomach and waist. Your breaths calmed and you sunk back into the mattress and then he was pulling out of you slowly, careful not to cause any more friction.

You absentmindedly noticed that he was still completely hard, but your body was spent, and your eyes were droopy, telling you both that you needed some rest. The mixed fluids of his cum and your slick pooled out warmly between your thighs, but you paid it little mind.

Instead, you turned tiredly on your side and snuggled up into the sheets. Rick moved behind you, his body fitting against yours like you were two pieces of a puzzle, and he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Get some rest, ‘mega,” he murmured, nuzzling affectionately into your neck. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

That wasn’t your concern, though. You were upset about him not claiming you, despite the way he was so insistent that you were his. Still, your exhaustion won out for the time being, so you let your eyes fall closed and your body relax against him.

You’d sort it out later. For now, you just wanted to bask in the afterglow and the warm feel of his body protectively pressed against yours.

When you woke up again, the first thing you noticed was how you were even more feverish than earlier. It was unbearable in a way you’d never experienced before. Your skin felt like it was on fire, as though there was a raging inferno inside of you that couldn’t be soothed.

Your sweat soaked into the sheets and your fever made you feel slightly delirious, like a haze was clouding your mind. You couldn’t think, only feel and when the fog of sleep finally left, you felt nothing else but Rick and the desperate state of your heat.

You were on your back now, legs spread wide with Rick’s head buried between them. His hands were gripping your inner thighs, holding you steady while his tongue gave slow, languid licks along your pussy.

“Alpha…” you moaned, fingers tugging lightly on his hair.

The scruff of his beard scratched along your thighs, and you felt his lips curl into a smile against your wet folds. He flicked his tongue back and forth over your clit, his lips sucking down at the same time and sending you into a frenzy.

He already seemed to know your body well and as your pussy clenched, aching for something inside of it, Rick moved his tongue down and away from your clit. His tongue pushed into your dripping core right as his nose brushed against your sensitive nub.

He fucked you with his tongue, lapping up your slick while his hands squeezed your thighs in a vice-like grip. His hold on you was strong and a little painful, but the way he was showering your pussy with attention made any discomfort fade away.

Then, Rick moved up again, bringing his mouth back to your clit and his fingers plunged into you instead. He moved them at a quick pace, in and out, curling up with each thrust to stimulate your inner bundle of nerves.

All the while his tongue stroked against you and then he let out a deep, guttural moan. You were already a squirming, lust addled mess, but when the vibrations reverberating from his throat pulsed against your pussy, the extra simulation made you cum like never before.

“Rick…” you moaned out in a complete daze.

You repeated his name like a mantra, over and over as your body sang with its release. He just kept licking and sucking and fucking you with his fingers until the wild movements of your hips became too frantic and he pulled away.

He was grinning at you, his gaze heated and devilish, promising that he wasn’t anywhere near done with you yet. As you settled, he moved up your body until his face was just above yours and then he brought his lips to your own in a slow and sensual kiss.

His tongue moved with precision against yours, reminiscent of what he’d just been doing between your legs, and it made desire pool deep in your belly all over again. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer until his cock was pushing against your entrance.

“Not yet, ‘mega,” he groaned out, breaking the kiss and rubbing his cheek against yours, scenting you.

“Please,” you begged, fingers moving down to scratch lightly along his back.

“You’ve gotta eat first,” he pulled back completely. “You need to drink some water too. I promised I’d take care of you, ‘mega.”

You were breathing heavily, and you wanted nothing more than to have his cock back inside of you. But your heat was also a little more sated after your last orgasm but that wouldn’t last for very long. So, you relented, sitting up and nodding.

Rick sat on the edge of the bed, reaching over for his backpack and taking out some of the food and water he’d managed to salvage while you’d all been on the road. You took the water first, taking long sips and letting the cool liquid soothe you.

His fingers traced light patterns along your legs as he bit into a granola bar, needing to keep up his own strength as well. As your mind cleared, you remembered the bite he’d placed on your shoulder and decided that you needed to ask him about it.

Remembering his marriage and how he and Lori had never claimed one another, you wondered if he had some kind of aversion to it.

“Rick?”

“Hmm?” He looked over at you with a lazy but affectionate smile.

You didn’t want to tiptoe around it, so you just asked him outright.

“Why didn’t you claim me?”

He coughed, like he hadn’t swallowed his last bite properly and looked away from you again.

“You wanted me to.”

It was a statement, showing that he had known what you wanted and despite that knowledge, along with all of his words and possessive actions, he still hadn’t done it.

“I still want you to,” you told him. “Don’t you?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and you watched him worriedly.

“Rick, I meant it every time I said it. I’m yours. But if you don’t want me to be, then –”

“I do,” he cut you off earnestly, finally looking at you again. “I just… can’t.”

“Why?” You asked, trepidation over your relationship washing over you. “Is… is it because of Lori?”

“No,” he assured you, taking your hands in his. “I mean that I really can’t. I… I tried, with Lori. It never lasted on either of us and I just… I didn’t want to disappoint you. I didn’t want it to push you away. I can’t lose you.”

His gaze held such raw emotion that you realized it was a deep-seated insecurity for him. It was something he’d been internally struggling with for a long time, and it must have been hard for him to open up to you about it.

Nevertheless, it was a lot to process. It made the breakdown of his marriage make a lot more sense, but that was the least of your concerns in that moment. Instead, you found it hard to come to terms with the fact that, from what he was saying, you would never be able to truly claim one another.

Maybe that was why he was so possessive and adamant about the fact that you belonged to him.

In the end though, it didn’t really matter to you. Sure, it wasn’t what you’d been expecting your relationship with him to turn out like, but everything with Rick, from the moment you’d met him had just felt right. Like fate or whatever the hell else meant for you to find each other and be together.

So, as you felt his scent change and his anxiety over your silence fill the room, you were determined to set his worried mind at ease. You got up, climbing into his lap so that you were facing him and stroked your fingers along the short and coarse hairs of his cheek affectionately.

“I don’t care,” you told him, your gaze holding his.

“Don’t lie,” he cast his eyes down, but never stopped touching you, holding you close.

You leant forward, placing soft kisses over his cheeks, his jawline and finally one on his lips before pulling back again.

“I’m not lying,” you insisted gently. “I want you, whatever that entails. And yes, I do want you to claim me, to bite into my gland over and over again if you have to. I don’t care if it doesn’t stick. I’m yours and I don’t want you to hold back.”

His eyes met yours with trepidation, his uncertainty clear. But he must have seen the sincerity in your own gaze because his expression softened, and he looked at you with so much adoration you thought you would melt right there in his arms.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” you promised him.

And then you brought your lips to his, sealing it with a kiss. You wanted to show him that your desire for him hadn’t wavered and that your words were honest. One of his hands seemed to automatically find one of your hips, keeping you close to him, while the other trailed up and down your back.

He deepened the kiss and lifted your hips a little. You knew what he wanted so your hand moved down and grasped around his cock, lining it up at your core and pushing back down. His lips left yours as his head fell back with a groan that was filled with lust.

You had more control in that position, and while he still gripped tightly onto your hips, you set the pace, grinding down onto him.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed out, still lost in the ecstasy of it all. “You always feel so good for me.”

“Mmm,” you hummed in agreement, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “That’s ‘cause you fill me up so well.”

He started guiding your hips, while his own thrust up and into you, his movements a little more frantic. He’d still been rock hard when you fell asleep and was the same when you woke up. You wondered if his erection had gone down at all due to how desperately he seemed to ache for release.

He opened his eyes to look at you again and it was like he got lost in the sight of you, with the way you were grinding down onto him and squeezing around his cock. He reached up to tuck some hair behind your ear and his thumb brushed against your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, gaze still transfixed on you.

Your cheeks heated up in a faint blush and you looked away, shy from the intense look he was giving you.

“Hey, don’t do that,” he took hold of your chin, bringing your gaze back to his. “I mean it. Don’t hide from me, sweetheart.”

You nodded, biting down on your lip, and allowing yourself to get lost in his piercing blue eyes. It was raw and unyielding, the range of emotions in his gaze and you hoped that your own was conveying the same back to him.

“I can’t hold back much longer,” he admitted softly.

“I don’t want you to,” was your honest reply.

He moaned at your admission before flipping your bodies over so that you were on your back again and he was hovering over you. Rick took hold of your waist, making sure he had a steady grip on you before he thrust out nearly all the way and then pounded back into you, right to the hilt. You both let out desperate and guttural sounds at the feeling of him filling you up entirely once again.

He moved with precise thrusts, but his pace was quick and frenzied. You knew he was close, eager to cum inside you again, because it was clear through his expression and the way his body was tensed up with desire and anticipation.

You moved one hand down between your thighs, fingers finding your aching clit and your body reacted instantly to the added stimulation. Your pussy contracted down on his cock, squeezing and pushing him to the brink.

He was pushed right up against your cervix again, not enough for the pressure to be unpleasant, but enough for the insinuation of where his cum would go, to make you insanely turned on.

Rick looked wild, his blue eyes feral and barely holding onto control. He gave you one last look of trepidation and you just nodded before exposing your neck to him.

“Please, Alpha,” you begged, voice filled with desperate need.

That was enough to make his control snap and his head bent down with lightning speed before his teeth sunk into your neck and the first spurts of his cum filled your fertile womb. Simultaneously, he lapped up the warm blood that spilled from your throat and your pussy milked every last drop of his hot cum deep inside you.

The mixed stimulation all throughout your body made another orgasm crash over you like a tidal wave. You were clenching down so hard around his cock that you thought it might be painful for him, but Rick didn’t seem to mind. All of his attention seemed to be on your mating gland, soothing the sore skin like he was in a trance.

You realized, as your body settled and your orgasm calmed down, that suddenly you felt so perfectly whole. As though for your entire life you had been missing half of yourself until that moment. You weren’t as unbearably hot anymore and your unbearably fevered skin seemed to relax until it just felt like you were in a regular heat.

Rick’s fingertips glided over your lower stomach absentmindedly and as the blood flow from your neck slowed to a stop, he pressed countless kisses against the fresh mark. You didn’t care, in that moment, if he had to mark you time and time again. It felt too good and right to you, having his claim on your body.

When his slow and languid thrusts began to pick up again, you realized that he was still hard. You weren’t complaining though, because your body was clearly willing and eager for more. After what felt like hours but was likely only a couple of minutes, Rick peeled his lips away from your neck and pulled back to look at you.

“Feeling okay?” He asked, never once letting up in his powerful thrusts.

“No,” you grinned up at him, not missing the way he raised an eyebrow in question. “’Okay’ would be a severe understatement.”

He let out a light laugh, and you could tell he was relieved by it. Then you hooked one leg around his waist, pushing a little with your hips and he seemed to realize what you wanted. Rick flipped you both over, settling back into the bed and letting you adjust yourself above him.

You ground down on him again, circling your hips and reveling in the way he stretched you out and filled you up. With each time his cock thrust deep into you, it pushed his cum further inside. You could hear the sounds of your mixed fluids every time he entered you, and it was sinfully good.

You loved watching him stretched out beneath you, allowing you to fuck yourself on top of him and the way he was getting lost in the feel of you. His eyes were closed, his head thrown back against the pillows, and he was letting out quiet moans and groans, showing you what you were doing to him.

You leaned forward, entwining his fingers with yours to steady yourself before you moved your hips a little harder and faster, bouncing on top of his cock and making you both wild with desire.

“I wanna mark you,” you moaned out, still sliding up and down his hard and thick cock. “Please, Alpha, I need it. I need to claim you as mine too.”

His eyes snapped open, and he looked at you with hesitation again, just like he had before he claimed you. But then his gaze fell down to your neck, to your mating gland which must have still been swollen and red, with the possessive mark of his bite standing out and showing who you belonged to.

Once his eyes settled on that his features softened, and he looked back at you with a nod.

You didn’t hesitate then, your hands leaving his as you leaned down closer to him. Your fingers ran through his hair, and you nuzzled against his neck, rubbing your nose and cheek along his gland to scent him.

Rick gripped your hips, making sure your pace never faltered as your mouth worshiped the gland you were about to bite into so you could claim him as your own. You could hear his moans getting more frequent and desperate, his lips right beside your ear.

When he thrust deep into you, holding you tightly against him, you let your teeth sink into his skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hips stuttering from the intensity of it all.

He came hard for the third time that day, stuffing you just as full as the other two times. He was insatiable, his stamina doing more than just rivaling anything you’d ever experienced. Trickles of his blood pooled into your mouth, the metallic taste filling your senses. Just like Rick had done, you licked and sucked against his gland, soothing the sensitive skin and attempting to stop the blood flow.

“Baby…” he breathed out, his voice betraying how turned on he was. “I can’t stop. You’re driving me crazy.”

As you continued to suck against the fresh mating bite you’d made on his neck, the blood slowed to a stop, and you pulled back. Shifting slightly, you realized he was still fully hard.

“Again?” You asked, a little incredulous, but no less enthused.

He didn’t answer, just lifted your hips until his cock slid out of you. You couldn’t stop the whine that escaped you at the empty feeling it caused. But then he was getting up and giving you a look that conveyed his deep-seated and still yet unsated lust.

“On your knees,” he ordered, moving behind you.

It was an alpha command, telling you exactly what he wanted. So, you lifted your body, holding yourself on all fours and presented yourself to him enthusiastically. He let out a low chuckle at your eagerness, but you knew that he was just as lost in his desire for you.

You choked on nothing but air when he thrust back into you, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you tightly. It was the best kind of pain, with how tender your walls were but how good it felt, nonetheless. One of Rick’s hands sat on the small of your back, while the other moved up your spine, fingers tickling your skin until he grabbed hold of your hair, pulling your head back slightly.

“Alpha,” you moaned out, lost deep in the throes of the pleasure he was giving you.

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed. “Let me hear you.”

“Fuck, I can’t take much more,” you cried out desperately. “But you feel so good.”

He gave a harder, more forceful thrust into you, making you whine with need.

“You love my cock, baby?” He demanded to know. “You need it?”

“Yes,” you moaned out. “I only need you.”

“That’s right,” he said, satisfied with your answer. “And I’m the only one that’s ever gonna know this tight, sweet pussy.”

“Mmm,” you agreed, nodding your head but unable to form anymore words.

“You want my cum again, ‘mega?” He asked. “Deep inside you?”

“Yes, Rick, please!”

The sound of his hips smacking against yours filled the small cabin, the continuous slapping together of sweaty skin a tell-tale sign of the illicit and sinful things he was doing to you. He let go of his grip on your hair, bringing his hands back to their familiar place on your hips and held you steady before he groaned and came once again.

Your upper body sank down into the bed as your own orgasm wracked through your body. Your pussy spasmed and your hips moved wildly, but Rick made sure to keep you wrapped around his cock, so that you were milking him dry for the fourth time that day.

You both stayed like that for a while, breaths panting, and bodies relaxed. Finally, you felt him soften inside you and as much as his relentless fucking had turned you on, you were glad for the sign of some respite. Rick slowly pulled out of you, and you let your lower body relax before turning onto your side.

He came to lay down as well, facing you and looking just as tired as you felt. He reached out to brush his fingers along your cheek, eyes already drooping before he dropped his hand to caress against your mating gland. The bite he’d left was sore and sensitive, but his touch didn’t irritate you.

You snuggled closer against him and then he wrapped him arms around you, laying on his back and resting your head on his chest. It wasn’t long before you both drifted back off to sleep, both of your bodies spent and sated for the time being.

The next time that the fog of sleep drifted away, and you woke up, you were still in Rick’s arms, and he was absentmindedly stroking his fingers up and down your back. Tilting your head to look up at him, you saw that he was deep in thought, his brow furrowed like something was bothering him.

“Hey,” you reached out, touching his cheek so he’d look at you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just…” he trailed off, gaze falling to your mating gland. “Something feels different.”

You realized instantly that he was talking about the claim he’d left on you.

“Good or bad?” You asked, a little concerned.

“Good, I think,” his eyes returned to yours. “But I hate that it’s only temporary.”

“Rick,” you sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I already told you; I don’t care if we have to do it countless times. I’m yours, and you’re mine. Nothing can change that except us.”

He nodded but still seemed upset about it. You figured it was something you could come back to later though and watched as he moved to get up.

“You wanna shower?” He asked over his shoulder, changing the topic quickly.

“Desperately,” you sighed. “But that’s a luxury one can’t afford when the world ends.”

He moved a little more to face you again, lips turning up into a grin.

“This place is solar powered,” he explained, reaching out for one of your hands.

“You’re kidding,” you lit up at the revelation.

His smile just widened, and he squeezed your hand.

“Come on, baby, I’ll go with you.”

That just sweetened the deal. Warm, running water along with soap and shampoo was one thing, but showering with Rick? The symptoms of your heat began rising within you once again at the thought.

He led you to the small bathroom and maybe before civilization fell you would’ve lamented at the small, tight space of the shower. But such things were luxuries now and you couldn’t wait to feel the water trickling down your skin.

Neither one of you had clothes to worry about, so Rick turned the knobs of the shower and happiness filled you at the sight of hot, running water. It was a tight squeeze, but you stepped in beside him and he moved out of the way to let you enjoy the water first.

It was heaven; the feel of it running through your hair and down over your body. Rick picked up a bottle of body wash from the shelf and squirted some out onto his hands before lathering it up. One of his hands fell to your hip, rubbing the soap over your stomach and thighs, while the other squeezed one of your breasts.

“Rick…” you sighed happily, your head falling against the shower wall behind you.

His touch was gentle, teasing you a little but he still kept his primary goal as cleaning you of all the dirt and grime and the remnants of incredible sex. Your nipples hardened as his thumbs brushed over them and your pussy ached to be touched again.

But Rick stayed focused, scrubbing the soap along your body until it washed away, and you felt cleaner than you had in over a week. Then he turned you around, his fingers running through your wet hair and his nails scraping over your scalp. It was relaxing and his touch conveyed the deep care he held for you.

You didn’t notice him reach for the shampoo bottle, but when he massaged it into your hair your eyes closed in bliss. He was being so gentle and affectionate with you and your inner omega loved it.

Eventually, you turned to rinse out your hair and then Rick stepped underneath the water, and you were eager to return the favor. Your movements were less slow and had much more devious intentions behind them.

You ran your hands over the expanse of his chest, the lathered-up soap spreading across his skin. He watched through hooded eyes as you moved your touch down to his lower abdomen, fingers gliding softly over the light hairs there.

Then you got down on your knees, eager to have his long, thick cock in your mouth again. One of his hands moved to the back of your head, tangling in your hair, but he remained silent, waiting in anticipation for you to make your move.

You got him to break the silence that had settled around you when your lips wrapped around his hardened length and a deep groan of pleasure escaped his throat. His grip on your hair tightened and he thrust into your mouth, getting his cock deeper inside you.

A moan sounded deep in your throat, and you began bobbing your head up and down along his cock with enthusiasm, eager to taste his cum again. You sucked down on him and teased him with your tongue.

It gave you a deep sense of satisfaction to know you could make him come undone and when the movement of his hips faltered slightly and all you could hear was his desperate moaning, you knew that he was already close.

Using one hand to cup and tease his balls and the other to grab the back of his thigh and keep him close, you pushed your head down further, bringing the head of his cock to the back of your throat.

“Fuck… sweetheart…” he groaned, barely managing to get the words out.

You felt the full length of him pulsate as he pushed all the way in and then his cum was spurting down your tight throat. You took it all, relishing in the way he clung to you and kept your mouth wrapped around him.

When his hands eventually relaxed around your head and you were able to pull your mouth off him, you looked up at Rick with an amused smile.

“Really?” You asked, before giving another quick glance to his cock that was still right in front of your face.

You shouldn’t have been surprised by that point, over the fact that he was still rock hard. But his stamina amazed you. It wasn’t something you were complaining about though because your heat left you filled with just as much desire.

“Come here,” he said gently, lifting you up to stand.

He brought you close, so that your chests were pressed together, and he lifted a hand to gently stroke along your mating gland.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered softly, eyes filled with honesty. “You know that?”

“You’re perfect to me,” you answered, your own gaze soft and affectionate. “I know that much at least.”

He gave you a small smile and then his lips were on yours, now so familiar in the way they felt to you and the way they seemed to work expertly against your own. His desperate need from earlier had settled and now Rick seemed intent on lavishing you not only with pleasure, but with soft affection too.

He moved you back gently, until your body was resting against the wall of the shower and then he was lifting one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist.

“I need more,” he admitted against your lips, his length rubbing up and down your slit.

“It’s okay,” you told him breathlessly. “I do too.”

He pulled his hips back slightly and then he was back inside you, filling you up perfectly once again. Your pussy was still slightly sore from how many times he’d fucked you just on that day alone, but it was nothing compared to the sense of fulfillment he gave you as he moved his hips back and forth.

Rick was kissing you again, one hand tangled in your hair and the other squeezing your ass, keeping you close to him. His thrusts weren’t as fast or frantic; he fucked into you with precise and deep movements, taking the time to enjoy the way you felt around him.

It was loving and intimate, showing that he didn’t just see you as an omega to get through his rut with. He was proving to you that you meant more than that to him, and it made your emotions swirl with happiness and the sense of feeling truly content.

You clung tightly to him, one hand pressed against his back and the other at the nape of his neck. Rick trailed his lips down to your jawline, pressing kisses along your skin while he kept slowly fucking deep into you. Then, he moved down to your throat, and it wasn’t long before he sought out your mating gland.

He kissed along the bite mark he’d left, and then affectionately nuzzled against it. He was too lost in the haze of his rut and the feel of your pussy wrapped snugly around him to notice the change in your scent. The way it was perfectly mingled with his own and gave a clear message that you had been claimed. That you were his omega.

Without that realization, he kept lavishing the bite with attention and eventually his teeth scraped along it, teasing you to the edge.

“Rick…” you moaned, instinctively squeezing down even harder on him.

It was exactly the friction he needed, because then he was cumming deep inside your pussy and you loved the fact that it still felt just as good as when he’d first done it. The intensity of it seemed to be too much for him because he sank his teeth into your gland a second time, opening up the wound and claiming you all over again.

Your own orgasm ripped through you, and you clung even tighter to him, keeping his head buried against your neck. His lips and tongue soothed your agitated skin, and you slowly came back to yourself, the cool tiles of the shower wall behind you giving your body some relief from the heat you felt all over.

After a while, Rick’s lips left your throat, and he pulled back to look at you. His gaze was soft and tender, conveying the depths of his feelings for you. When his forehead fell down to rest against your own, you realized that he wasn’t done yet.

“You’re insatiable,” you quipped, squeezing down slightly on his still hardened length.

“I’m not the only one,” he retorted, his voice gruff but no less playful.

His lips captured yours once again and you let yourself get lost in him. If this was how all of your heats would be in the future, then there would be nothing left to complain about or dread. You briefly wondered why you’d been so worried over your inability to continue taking suppressants before your mind became clouded and all you could think of, yet again, was Rick.

Your heat was over after two days. It was the shorter than you’d expected, and you wondered, with a small, devious smile if Rick had fucked it out of you. His stamina never let up and by the end you were a sated, but exhausted mess.

Your dress was ruined, but Rick had packed some spare clothes and you returned to the rest of the group in one of his shirts and a pair of your own jeans. And he still seemed to have the need to touch you, to keep you close. You didn’t mind, but the way that the eyes of the others lingered on you both when you returned was a little disconcerting. Sure, heats and ruts were a natural part of the world, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing.

Rick and Daryl exchanged a look and then a nod, silently conveying that Rick’s earlier display, when you had both gone into rut and heat, respectively, was forgiven and forgotten. Then, after you both came back, the whole group set out on the road again.

Two weeks had passed since then, and you often found yourself absentmindedly touching the claiming bite Rick had placed on your neck. Sometimes, your gaze would also linger on the one you left on him.

It was confusing, because neither of them had shown any sign of truly healing. They had healed to some degree, in the normal way, with the redness around them fading and the skin no longer feeling agitated. But they weren’t fading away and once you were both no longer distracted, you and Rick realized that your claims over one another had stuck, and you were truly mated to each other.

So, that was how you found yourselves talking to your father, with Rick asking if the older man might know what it meant. He was happy and relieved by it, but no less confused.

“I looked into it,” Hershel told Rick. “Before we lost the farm, like I said I would.”

You glanced between them, a little surprised by the fact that your father seemed to have known before you did about Rick’s inability to claim Lori and vice versa. But you stayed silent, interested in what he had to say.

“We have a book, in our family,” your father revealed. “It keeps a record of omegas and alphas in our line that mated with each other. Some omegas in our family tree mated differently than others, though.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

You’d never heard of that book before, and you were surprised to only learn of its existence now.

“There are a few omegas in our ancestry where their bodies would reject attempts to claim them. The records that have been kept show that only a particular alpha, their true mate, could actually claim those omegas.”

“True mates?” Rick asked in disbelief. “That… that stuff’s just fairy tales, stories for kids. It’s not real.”

Hershel just gave him a look, one that conveyed his lack of amusement with Rick brushing off his words.

“The evidence is in the two of you,” he continued. “You weren’t able to share a true mating bond until now, Rick. You’re the only alpha able to command Y/N… I’m sure there are other signs I’m not aware of and that I don’t want to know about.”

Rick looked taken aback by your father’s words and you felt just as surprised.

“It doesn’t matter, in the end,” Hershel said, placing a hand on Rick’s shoulder. “You were able to claim each other. That’s all that matters.”

Rick just gave a nod, still a little stunned and then Hershel walked off, leaving you both alone. The idea left you feeling uneasy though, and you bit down on your bottom lip, looking off to the side.

“Hey, you okay?” Rick asked, reaching out to take your hand in his and picking up on the change in your mood instantly.

“Yeah, I just… it’s a lot,” you admitted. “I mean, what if the connection we felt before we claimed each other was just… some weird thing like fate that was pushing us together? I’ve never even considered true mates to actually be a real thing, so I don’t know how it’s supposed to work, but I just… I don’t want those feelings to be fake or forced… I don’t want the way I feel about you to not be real somehow…”

“Y/N,” he took hold of your chin gently and brought your gaze to his. “Whatever this is between us, however you want to label it, it’s real. I don’t know about all the other stuff, but I know how I feel about you. You don’t ever have to worry about that.”

His words caused relief to rush through you and you nodded, giving him a small smile. He returned it before pulling you closer to him and capturing your lips in a kiss. It was soft and affectionate, and his lips moved languidly against your own. All of your doubts left your mind and only one thing remained – the knowledge that you both belonged to one another, fully and irreversibly.

And with both of your mating bites sitting proudly on your necks, showing that you had claimed one another, there was no way for anyone to either doubt or deny it.

Next Work in this Series

Taglist:

@bking4000, @starsaroundmyscxrss (sorry but the tag wouldn’t work for one of you!

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes/reader #rick grimes x f!reader #alpha rick grimes #alpha!rick grimes x omega!reader #omega reader #fem reader #rick grimes fanfic #rick grimes smut #twd smut #twd fanfic #the walking dead fanfic #rick grimes/you #rick grimes x you

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