#my returns this year as compared to last year is like… night and day

[randomingoftherandomness]

.

[redcherrykook]

──𐙚 special present- Jungkook birthday special!

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content: Jk´s birthday, lingerie, passionate sex, praise regarding body, fluff, vibrator usage, oral, cute dinner date, aftercare talks, established relationship, shit ton of kisses, petnames galore

note from cherry: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOYFIE U R 27 NOW!!! i love my sexy man guys help .... ignore typos thanks ily!

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first september 2024, Jungkook´s twenty-seventh birthday.

On this day, 27 years ago an angel was born, a lover, a gentle heart with a passionate soul. He was given to this earth as a gift, someone to create happiness through art, someone to share laughs and looks with. Someone that has been by your side for four years now, blessing your every morning with his face and little kisses, blessing your every night with his arms and whispers

There is nothing that comes close to being loved by Jungkook, nothing that remotely compares to the feeling of his reassurance, his little messages throughout your day or the flowers he would bring home because they reminded him of you.

Equally, there is nothing that you wouldn´t do for him. He´s your entire heart and you´re his, his smile, his reason to keep going when he feels less than enough.

In comparison to what he does for you, standing in the kitchen for hours on his birthday just to cook him a nice pasta and lots of side dishes plus some little deserts is not nearly as difficult

It was your idea to cook for him, knowing how much he loves at home dinner dates with a cozy movie, he refused at first, not wanting you to push yourself for him

He knew all to well you would go all out for this occasion,

"Lets just go to a restaurant ma, i want you to relax"

Managing to persuade him with the mention of traditional carbonara and oreo cream cookies, he still had to attend a photoshoot before returning home

six hours later, the kitchen is set, candles and a big box on the table along all the delicious food, moodlights on

Jungkook hates the big overhead lamp, so you turned that off immediately

Now it´s time to rush for a shower, quickly drying your hair and putting on the smallest amount of make up to look extra cute, even though you know he loves your bare face the most.

"Baby! Happy birthday kook!" your grin spreads over your lips, jumping to hug him as soon as he comes through the door, his woody sweet scent staining your sense

he hugs you back, wrapping his strong arms around your delicate body, smiling to himself like he had never been happier,

"thank you angel, smells so good here" he replies, holding on to your waist and nuzzling his nose to yours

you kiss him gently, savoring the softness of his lips on yours

"mhm, I hope it tastes good too" you hum, stepping into the kitchen to take out some champagne from the fridge, he takes off his shoes and jacket, coming behind you to wrap his arms around your figure again,

his head drops to your neck, burrying himself in your scent and velvet smooth hair while you fill two glasses with the sparkling alcohol

"I´m sure it does, you´re the best cook cutie" he mumbles into your hair, kissing your cheek while rubbing your sides softly

"let´s eat, you must be so hungry kook" you giggle, turning around to cup his face

The both of you spend the next hour or so eating the home cooked goods, his little stims and groans of appreciation lighting up your heart, the way his large, veiny hands grip the tiny chopsticks, flinging them around with the first bites to show how good it tastes to him

With a few last bites on the vanilla lotus cake, he sighs, rubbing his stomach

"Woah, I´m so full. Thank you angel, come here" he smiles, patting his thigh

You walk over immediately, plopping down on his lap with your arms around his neck, one hand caressing his cheek softly,

"so glad you liked it baby" you say, kissing his nose to which he scrunches it up, placing a kiss to your lips instead

"Wanna open your present?" his brown doe eyes light up, his head nodding excitedly,

the black, ribbon wrapped box is already in his hands before you can register what´s going on, slender fingers moving to unwrap it while both of you stare in anticipation

The box opens, two things inside and the look on his face is priceless, weeks of saving up and hiding your little secret is finally worth it

He gasps, taking the expensive film camera out of the box,

"there´s no way" he says, stars in his eyes shining when he spins the packaging around, setting it down on the table and cupping your face

"My baby.. you really got me this? But that´s so much money my love"

you nod, smiling and caressing his shoulder, "Don´t worry about that.. look how happy you are! that´s worth every cent"

He starts kissing you with the same grin still planted on his lips, moving his mouth against yours sweetly,

"thank you, you're the best" he whispers, resting his forehead on yours

"There´s one more thing in there" you gesture to the box, he hums, taking out the stüssy hoodie you knew he had been eyeing, eightball logo as the backprint on the black, comfy material

He folds it back up, with a peck to your nose his hands wander back down to your waist

"thank you cutie, I´ll wear it all the time and think of you"

the sounds of kissing fill up the kitchen, softly savoring each others company and leaving behind the rest of the world when you keep feeling his passion grow in the kisses, moving his hands to your ass, squeezing it firmly and moaning quietly into the desperate kisses

" I have something for you" he says suddendly, pulling away from your lips, glazed swollen mouth luring you back in

Confused, you tilt your head, playing with some of his strands,

"For me? On your birthday?" you frown, but he just kisses it off, making both of you giggle,

"Let me show you" with that, you're hoisted up in his arms, his hands full of your ass and your legs snug around his slim waist, walking up the stairs to the bedroom

He gently sets you down on the bed, moving over to his closet and pulling out a shopping bag from behind his jackets,

"Jungkook.. why?" you pout, his selfless nature making you feel terrible but loved all at once,

with a sly look, he hands you the bag,

"Look inside, it's a present for myself but with your help" his arms lay back, tricep flexing while his gaze sharpens when you pull out a tiny, fluffy white set of lingerie

Your mouth is hung open, looking at him with pink cheeks and disbelief to which he smirks,

"Come on, baby, there's two more. Pick you're favorite so i can fuck you in it" he says, watching as you nervously pull out a trqnsparent pink nightdress and a black, shiny bralette with matching lace bottoms

"Kook oh my god" you giggle, hiding your face beneath your hands,

He responds by prying your hands away immediately, his eyes burning through you with lust, lips finding your jawline

"Tell me pretty.. which one?" he repeats in a sweet whisper,

"You pick...s'your birthday" already begining to moan and crave his touch more,

He pushes you down onto the bed, sliding down your pants and panties,

"Pink.. you look so good in everything but fuck, when i saw that little pink dress i knew i had to buy it for you" he mutters, pulling your shirt over your head before lifting your torso to unclasp the bra you're wearing

Bare, needy and flustered sprawled out on the bed before your fully clothed, erect boyfriend.

He groans softly, running his hands down your stomach, "you're beautiful, i need you so bad baby, you have no idea"

You've never felt more beautiful than in this moment, the love and adoration in your boyfriends eyes making you feel like there was no one who could compete, naked and vulnerable but secure and cared for all at the same time

"Kook.. please, i need you too" you're rubbing your thighs together for the tiniest bit of relief

He reaches back to the pink lingerie, "arms up angel"

You listen well, he pulls the soft fabric over your body, stopping right below your feminity

The fabric is see through, round breasts on full display below, the curve of your waist exentuated by the flow of it,

"You can't even imagine how beautiful you are, you make me crazy baby"

His lips muffle your moans, making out slow but intense while he explores what he has come to know better than anything else the past years, running his hands all over your curves and finding your stiff nipples to rub through the fabric

"Nhmm kook.. please take this off" you mumble between whines, tugging at his shirt

He smiles, "anything for you" discarding the calvin klein top somewhere on the floor, followed by his jeans that are dragged down, leaving him in his grey boxers that posess a small patch of precum

"You're so pretty" you tell him, genuinely in awe at his state, messy long mullet making his doe eyes stand out, honey colored skin decorated with tiny moles and that unfairly small waist,

Muscular thighs flexing when he crawls back over you, his tattooed arm reaching down to caress your inner thighs,

"thank you sweetheart" he says, pressing a kiss to your lips before his head hovers over your chest, looking up to you

Your head is tilted down, keeping eye contact while your lips quiver and your hands get lost in his hair,

Slowly, his tongue darts out, licking over your clothed nipple and monitoring your moans become louder, the heat rushing to your face

"Mnhm!" you whine, shutting your eyes but he only latches on more, sucking with a satisfied smirk, alternating between breasts to distract from his hand that creeps to your wet cunt, cupping it with little rubs

"Wanna pound this little pussy" his words shoot to your core, raspy and desperate in the way he says them

You nod pathetically, not in the state to give proper replies anymore

He manhandles you to be pushed back legs up on his shoulders, exposing yourself to him entirely

He smiles down to you, pumping his length a few times before lining up to your soppy entrance,

"Ready angel?"

you give him a reqssuring smile to which he kisses your lips while pushing himself in inch by inch, gliding his whole cock desperately into your wamrth

"so tiny, so snug everytime" he says, licking over your lips while slowly thrusting into you,

"you feel so good kook, faster please" you're whining, nightgown bunching up with every thrust, the see through material making each rock of your body look like a work of art, complentary to your skin tone, pointing out the blush on your cheeks

He looks down at you, one arm steady on your hip while the other is caressing one of your legs on his shoulder,

"You're so beautiful, i can't last long like this baby" he's a mess, moaning loudly and fully entranced with your body and voice, the clench of your cunt sucking him in, his tip is throbbing, hitting deep within you

Jungkook already feel his orgasm about to hit him, just when he wants to pull out to pleasure you instead, you stop him,

"Please kook, cum first, cum all you want, keep going until you can't" you're whining, looking at him with pleading eyes and he can't help but curse, continuing to fuck into you harder,

His cum splurts inside of you, he pushes it in with a couple more strokes, panting while his cock is still hard and pulsating in your cervix

He pulls out, leaning down to kisw your clit

"Let me make it up to you pretty" reaching for the nightdrawer, you knew exactly what was about to happen

With the small pink toy between his tattooed fingers, he tells you to sit on his cock,

You let yourself down on him with a loud moan, this new angle making you feel him even deeper, desperate to start grinding on him

He's moaning too, still sensitive from the prior orgasm, nonetheless, one hand grips your hip as you start rocking back and forth with his dick stuffed deep inside you

The other one switches on the toy, pressing the buzzing nub to your clit

"Oh fuck kook" you're a mess now too, rapidly humping on his dick and rubbing your clit against the little vibrator on it, his eyes close, feeling your walls clamp down on him with every hasty roll of your hips

He's groaning, moving the hand from your hip to one of your tits, playing with it

"Gonna cum! S'too much baby i'm gonna cum" you warn him, grinding having switched to bouncing up and down on his thick length, his cum from earlier covering his cock, spilling down from your pussy along with your own slick

He feels his own high approaching, encouraging you to keep going a little longer while he keeps pressing the toy on your abused little clit

"Okay..okay cum now baby, cum with me" he whines, once he feels you loosen around him, a string of whimpers leave your lips aswell

He switches the toy off, snapping his hips into you from below and finally cumming himself, filling you to the brim with all that he has left in him

"Mhm.. god that's so good.. so good baby.." he says, chest rising from the intensity,

You collapse on top of him with a weak, satisfied smile,

"Awh... pretty girl" he coos, flipping both of you to the side so he can wrap you in his arms and pull out,

Your head nuzzles back from him to look at his pleased face, stroking his naked chest with your small fingers,

"I love you so much" you tell him, pressing sweet kisses to his neck,

He feels heavenly right in this moment, wrapped up with the love of his life on his birthday, pleased and in the confines of his own home

"I love you more angel..thank you for the amazing birthday" he says, stroking your hair and pressing small kisses to his head

"Happy birthday baby, you deserve it" you reply, smiling against his skin

You can feel the cum begin to run down the inside of your legs, sticking to your skin,

They feel weak and sore, so you do what you usually do,

"Baby? Do you mind helping me clean? It feels sticky" you cringe your face Upwards, upon noticing it he smiles, nodding and moving to lay you flat on your back, pulling the nightdress down after

You think it's because he's gonna dress you in your pj's after cleaning you up, instead, his hands fumble with the fluffy white lingerie

"Kook?" You ask curiously

"What's up angel?" non chalantly, he moves over you to dress you in the small panties,

"What are you doing?" you're kicking your legs, chuckling at his behavior

Should have known he isn't done after you only came one time

He smiles too, holding you still and struggling to put on the panties to your body,

"There's two more sets baby, let me eat you out nicely, you only came once" he says, kissing your ankle

without wanting to protest and just getting ready to recieve your pleasure, you smile, already spreading your legs for him to creep in between

"You drive me crazy" you tell him with a lick of your lips

"If only you knew" he says, moving to work himself up to put on the matching bra

[parkerslatte]

It’s Been a Long, Long Time

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: memory loss.

Summary: The last time Azriel had seen his mate was nearly four centuries ago. The bond went silent and for those many years, Azriel believed his mate was dead. As he sits with Elain in her garden, the bond suddenly comes alive once again.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The day Azriel lost his mate, he was in agony. Not because of the pain, no. It was because of the lack of knowledge if she was alive or not. The bond fell quiet and Azriel could hardly grasp onto it. It was as if he were trying to catch smoke. There was nothing to touch. For years he searched for her, he never wanted to give up. He knew that every moment he waited, she could be in danger. 

Even long after she disappeared, Azriel still searched. However, as the centuries ticked by, Azriel began to lose hope. He was sure he had searched every possible location. There was no trace of Y/N. 

Azriel sat with Elain in her garden. He had noticed a positive change in the middle Archeron sister for the past few months. When Rhys tasked him to watch over Elain and help her adjust, he originally hated the idea. But he knew the reason why Rhys had set him the task. It was coming up to the 400th anniversary since Y/N had disappeared. 

As Azriel looked down at the ring in his hands, he could feel his heart plummet. Even if being around Elain had helped distract himself as she explained all of the flowers to him and their various meanings, the closer it got to the anniversary of Y/N’s disappearance, Azriel felt himself slip away from everyone and everything. 

The ring was still beautiful even after all this time. Azriel made sure it was. Despite vowing to never take off her wedding ring, Y/N always took it off before bed, deeming that it was uncomfortable when she rested her head upon her hand to sleep. But the first thing she did every morning was slip the ring back upon her finger. The night she was taken it had been no different except one thing, Azriel had not been there. His job had kept him away for an extra day, and for the first time since they were mated and married, Azriel had not fallen asleep next to Y/N. He had regretted that for four hundred years. The only reminder of her was the ring he found on her bedside cabinet that morning. 

“Azriel!” The sound of Elain’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. 

“Sorry?” He lifted his gaze from the ring and met Elain’s. 

“I asked you what that was,” Elain said, gesturing down to the ring in his hand. 

Azriel stilled. He never liked speaking about it with anyone but Rhys or Cassian. But seeing how Elain’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern, he could tell that a saddened expression had slipped onto his face. 

Azriel sighed. “It was my mate’s wedding ring.”

“Mate?” Elain said, her expression falling slightly. 

Azriel cringed internally. He knew about Elain’s small crush on him. She did not hide it well. Though he did not return her feelings, he still enjoyed her company. With her, she understood when he just wished to sit in silence and when he didn’t want to talk, she continued the conversation on her own. 

Perhaps there was a time where he could have retired her feelings, Elain was rather beautiful, but she would never compare to Y/N. Azriel had never had another relationship after Y/N disappeared. He only ever wanted Y/N and he would only ever want her. 

“Yes,” Azriel said, swallowing hard. “She- she disappeared four-hundred years ago. I was never able to find her.”

The small hurt expression on Elain’s face changed to one of sympathy. “Azriel, I am so sorry.”

Azriel nodded and looked back at the ring. “I have looked everywhere and there is no trace of her. I have always felt…empty since she disappeared. She was part of my soul that I have never gotten back.”

Elain dropped the bulbs she was holding back into her basket. “How do you know she is not out there? You couldn’t have searched everywhere on the planet?”

“I have searched everywhere where it was possible to take her,” Azriel answered. “I have found absolutely nothing.”

“Then believe that she is still out there,” Elain said.

“Elain, it has been nearly four-hundred years,” Azriel said. “I gave up hope of her still being alive a long time ago.”

“Do you still love her?” Elain asked. 

“More than anything,” Azriel said instantly. “I haven’t been with anyone after she disappeared. I tried, about two-hundred years ago but I couldn’t do it. It felt so wrong. No one will ever compare to her.”

“Then you shouldn’t give up hope,” Elain said. “You don’t give up hope on those you love.”

Azriel did not reply. He simply looked back down at the ring once more. It was centuries old yet it still looked brand new. Azriel made sure that the silver band never tarnished. Made sure that the gem never stopped sparkling. It looked the same as the day he had slipped it onto her finger. Elain, sensing Azriel wished to no longer talk about the topic, returned back to her garden. 

Ever since Y/N had disappeared, Azriel had always felt like he had lost part of his soul, and he supposed he had. Y/N was everything to him. She was who he lived for. She was the one and only love he ever needed, ever wanted. The night the bond snapped for them was one Azriel would never forget. Even if he tried, he would never be able to forget it. The initial shock then the pure feeling of the love she sent him. For the first time in his life, Azriel knew what it was like to be loved so deeply and unconditionally. It did not matter whether he deserved it or not. When he was with Y/N, none of that mattered. All that mattered was him and her and the fact that they were together. 

As Azriel tucked the ring back into his breast pocket, a large surge of emotion was brought to life within him. He clutched at his chest. Azriel cried out.

“Azriel?” Elain questioned, shooting to her feet. “Are you okay?”

Her voice was muffled as Azriel continued to claw at his chest. Something was threatening to burst through. 

“Something is different,” he forced out. 

“Do I need to get anyone?” Elain asked. 

“Rhys,” Azriel said. “I need Rhys.”

Elain nodded and ran out of the garden and into the house in search of his brother.

Azriel tried to stand but fell to his knees immediately. He could barely breathe. The pressure in his chest was gradually increasing and he could not place the feeling anywhere. 

“I have Rhys,” Elain said, rushing back into the garden, Rhys following behind her. 

“Az, what’s wrong?” Rhys asked, kneeling down next to him. 

“I don’t know,” Azriel said, breathing heavily. “There is a pressure in my chest. I don’t know what it is.”

“What were you doing before it started?” Rhys asked.

“Telling–” Azriel cut himself off as he yelled out. The pressure was becoming worse and Azriel was sure that if he tried to repress it anymore, it would surely kill him. “Telling Elain about Y/N.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Elain asked quietly, standing a small distance away.

“Az, you need to relax,” Rhys said, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“I can’t,” Azriel said through gritted teeth. 

“The pressure will kill you if you don’t relax,” Rhys said sternly. “So, please, relax.”

Azriel met Rhy’s eyes and stopped clawing at his chest. The pain in his chest gradually got worse and worse. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. 

“Rhys,” Azriel whispered, his voice full of pain. “I can’t…”

“Yes you can,” Rhys said. “Just relax, Az.”

Azriel closed his eyes and relaxed his body, letting the pain overtake his body until he cried out once again. However as soon as he cried out, the pain stopped and a new feeling overtook his body. It was overwhelming and Azriel backed away from Rhys’s touch. 

“Azriel,” Rhys said. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. I can’t–”

Azriel cut himself off as a familiar feeling rose within him. This time he didn’t claw at his chest, he gently placed his hand upon it. The emotions he was feeling weren’t his. They were someone else’s. Azriel hadn’t felt this way in a long time. He had forgotten what it felt like. But it felt right. 

“The mating bond,” Azriel said. “I feel the mating bond.”

Even Rhys looked shocked as he looked at Azriel. “Are you sure?”

Azriel nodded. “I can feel it. I can feel her, Rhys.”

Tears sprung to Azriel’s eyes. He tugged on that bond that had lain dormant for four hundred years. It was weak though he felt her tug back. Azriel could have sobbed at that feeling alone. 

“Take me back to my home, Rhys,” Azriel said. 

The home Azriel shared with Y/N. He hadn’t entered it in a long time. He could never bring himself to. Every single time he tried, he couldn’t open the door. That house was the home he made with Y/N and Azriel did not want to be there if she wasn’t. 

“Are you sure?” Rhys asked.

“I’m sure,” Azriel said. “She is there, Rhys. I can feel it.”

Rhys nodded and winnowed them to the outside of Azriel’s home on the outskirts of Velaris. As soon as they arrived, Azriel could already smell the familiar scent of his mate. He pushed away from Rhys and opened the front door. 

And there she was.

Y/N stood in the middle of the room looking around with her hands on her hips. “You could have dusted, Az.”

Azriel simply couldn’t believe it. “Y/N? Are you really here?”

Y/N smiled softly and Azriel nearly collapsed right there. That smile was always in his dreams but seeing it again in person…

Azriel rushed over to her and scooped her in his arms as they both sank to the floor. Azriel couldn’t stop the sobs that came from him and neither could Y/N. The bond between them hummed happily. Four hundred years of being apart and now finally being reunited. It was something Azriel had given up on a long time ago. 

“How are you here?” Azriel mumbled, his sobs subsided but his tears didn’t. “I thought you were dead.”

Y/N pulled away from the hug and cupped Azriel’s cheeks and wiped away the tears. “You are exactly as I remember. It has been so long since I remembered what you looked like.”

“What do you mean?” Azriel asked. 

Y/N sighed and held onto Azriel tighter, as if she were afraid she was going to be taken once more. “The night I was taken, I was drugged, they wanted me for my power of healing and I refused to give in. They were bad men and I was not going to help them no matter how hard they tried to convince me. They drugged my food to make me compliant but the only thing I could think about was you and our bond. Once they realised who I was and who I was mated to, they gave me another drug. This time it was one to dampen the power of the mating bond. It made me stop feeling you.”

“I remember that night,” Azriel said. “I thought you blocked it off.”

Y/N shook her head. “Once the mating bond was dampened, they drugged me with something else. Over time I began to forget things, important things. My name, where I came from, my family, my friends…you.”

Azriel wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body flush against his. The sound of her heart beating was enough to bring a new surge of tears to his eyes. He never thought he would hear it again.

“They took me to a place on the continent, an entire city deep below ground with its own artificial sun and moon, whole fields and towns. Once I did not remember anything, they gave me a new identity and a whole new life.” 

“You didn’t remember me?” Azriel asked.

“I didn’t,” Y/N said sadly, threading her fingers in his hair. “But I always felt that there was a part of me missing. Even though the mating bond was repressed, I always felt that something was not quite right.”

Azriel’s heart fell. This whole time he had been in agony that his mate had been missing, while she did not remember him at all.  “How did you escape?” he asked. 

“If you believe me or not, there are good people in that community, incredible people,” Y/N said. “They helped me flush the drugs from my system and helped me remember who I once was.”

“The bond?” Azriel asked. “Did they help with that?”

Y/N shook her head. “Once the drugs were from my system and I was finally above ground, I felt you. I winnowed back here instantly. Consider me surprised when this house looks exactly the same as when I left four-hundred years ago.”

“I haven’t been able to come back here since you were taken,” Azriel whispered, his voice soft and vulnerable. 

Y/N caressed his face and wiped his tears away. “Oh, my darling. I am here now. Only if you still want me, of course.”

Azriel frowned. “Why wouldn’t I want you?”

“Az, my love, it has been four-hundred years. I would understand if you moved on in those years,” Y/N said. 

Azriel shook his head. “There has been no one else. I tried almost two centuries ago but I couldn’t do it. All I wanted was you.” When Azriel looked at her face again, he nearly burst into tears once more. It had been so long since he had looked into those loving eyes. The type of love he once thought he never deserved. “If you had found anyone, I would understand. You didn’t remember me.” Just that statement alone made Azriel hurt all over again. 

Y/N sighed a pained noise. “I won’t lie to you and say that there was no one, Azriel. There were a couple of people I have been with over the past four centuries.”

A new surge of tears streamed down Azriel’s cheeks as he gripped onto Y/N tighter. 

“But,” she continued, “there has been no one for many years and no one ever stuck around long. I could never fully commit. It was as if my body knew that it was wrong. I did like a few people but I never loved them. I could never love anyone more than I love you.”

“I never want you to go anywhere again,” Azriel whispered into her hair. “I missed you so much.”

Azriel’s fingers tangled in her hair as he rested his forehead against hers. Her soft breath fanned his face and Azriel swore he could nearly faint. Her scent, her touch, her breath. They were all things Azriel never thought he would ever witness again. 

“I am never going anywhere again,” Y/N mumbled. “I will remain beside you forever, my love.”

Azriel reluctantly unwrapped one hand from around Y/N and reached into his pocket and pulled out her ring. Y/N gasped once she saw it. 

“You kept it?” She asked.

“Of course I kept it,” Azriel said. “I always have it on me. It was the only thing I had that reminded me of you.”

Y/N wiped her tears away as Azriel took her hand gently in hers and slid the ring onto her finger. “Perfect,” he whispered.

Y/N looked him in the eyes. The love she held within them was something Azriel never forgot. He would see them in his dreams and nightmares. It was something he never thought he would see in person again. 

“Can I kiss you?” Azriel asked, almost afraid of the answer. 

Y/N smiled. “Az, I am your mate and your wife. There might have been a four century gap in our relationship but those two facts do not change. I love you. Of course you can kiss me. Kiss me until you can’t anymore.”

The shadowsinger smiled. “Then I’m afraid we will be here a while.”

Azriel finally kissed his mate and wife for the first time in four hundred years. 

[bweeeb]

WILDFLOWER

Carmen Berzatto x Reader

Angst

Notes: I started watching the third season of The Bear and my love for Carmen returned.

Summary: When Carmen compares Y/n to Claire on a stressful day, he almost ruins everything with the woman in his life.

Carmen Berzatto was never a kid with many friends. In fact, he didn't have any for a big part of his life, until you came along. The principal and teachers thought you were too advanced for your grade and bumped you up a year, where Carmen was. Berzatto never imagined a girl as pretty as you would be his friend. He thought you’d hang out with Claire or the cool kids, but no, you obviously became friends with everyone, especially Claire, but mostly with him. It was you and Carmen. After school ended, your friendship lasted six years until he moved to New York and came back when Michael committed suicide. At first, things started off well again. You worked in your family’s marketing business, filming and promoting restaurants with creative and interesting videos. Carmen needed you to promote The Bear. You two started getting close again. Suddenly, you were helping him late at the restaurant, joining him and the crew for family meals, and then he asked you out, thanks to Richie pushing him to do it, and that’s how you got to where you are now. Maybe it was a bit early, but after a few long months, your lease ended, and without thinking much about it, you ended up moving in with Carmen. He was always working, so you didn’t get in his way, and he didn’t get in the way of your editing work. You didn’t have much to complain about. Every night, Carmen would come home, you two would shower together, helping him relax, and fall asleep watching something. Until it wasn’t like that anymore. You were always a clingy person since childhood. Your parents told you that, but never in a bad way. You always thought it was okay to show love through touch and words of affirmation, until Carmen seemed bothered by it. He started showering alone, saying he’d be with you soon. He’d let go of your hand on the couch and sit farther away than usual. The messages you used to send, which he said he loved because they relaxed his mind when the restaurant was chaotic, he no longer seemed to appreciate. You tried to make sure he was okay with all your emotions before starting a relationship, and Carmen assured you he was, even saying your touch calmed him and he’d never felt that way with Claire. Claire was never a tough subject between you two, but it was inevitable for you not to feel a pang of jealousy knowing Carmen sought her out before you.

It was almost eight in the morning, and that morning Carmen had left in a rush after oversleeping. While you were organizing things at home, his chef's coat appeared in front of you, and without much doubt, you realized he had left without it, which was almost unacceptable. You grabbed the coat and drove to the restaurant, not knowing that Carmen was having a bad day and taking it out on everyone in the kitchen. Entering through the back doors, your eyes widened at the commotion coming from the kitchen. You passed Marcus, who smiled and raised his eyebrows at you.— You need to calm your man down. He said, handing you a small bag and letting you pass. Walking through the kitchen, you passed by Sydney, who shook her head in disapproval, with Richie right behind her, clapping his hands.

— S/n, the cousin's losing it. If I were you, I wouldn’t go in there, but I think you’re our only hope.

Richie said, hugging you tight and lifting your feet off the ground, causing you to let out a low laugh that made Carmen look out of his office, seeing you in Richie’s arms. Carmen's neck vein popped out for no reason, feeling jealous of your friendship with Richie, which had never happened in the fourteen years of friendship. Now, his already bad day seemed worse. Carmen, without thinking, walked over to you both, and as Richie let go of you, he grabbed his coat from your hand roughly, turned his back, and ran his fingers through his oily hair that hadn’t been washed properly, unlike when you washed it. Yesterday, he had skipped your shower together. — Maybe a thank you would be great. You said, following him through the kitchen with Richie behind you like a loyal puppy.

— She brought it for you, cousin.

— Yeah, big deal. He muttered, and you stopped in your tracks, tensing at his harsh tone.

— Leave this to me, Richie, thanks. You turned to the older man, who nodded and stepped away, ensuring that if you called for help, he’d come running.

You slowly approached Carmen, who was at the counter cutting vegetables, and leaned on one arm to look at him. — Hey, babe, what’s wrong?

Your soft, calm voice, which usually soothed Carmen, made him swallow hard in irritation.

When you got no response or even a glance, your smile fell into a disappointed sigh. — Are you okay?

— Yeah, I’m fine, Y/n. Another robotic response.

— Okay, are you mad because you woke up late?

— Your hair’s gonna fall into the ingredients. His voice raised rudely, and you widened your eyes, taking a hair clip from your bag strap and tying your hair up. — There, better? Your voice stayed calm and low, not letting the others in the kitchen hear what you were saying, always the opposite of Carmen in bad moments. — Can you at least look at me when you talk to me, please?

You asked, and the knife in Carmen’s hand stopped. His fiery gaze landed on you, and you didn’t know if you’d ever felt such a strong urge to cry from a look before. — I don’t wanna talk to you, Y/n. I didn’t ask you to come here. Carmen’s harsh words escaped, and you frowned. You knew he hadn’t called you, but you knew him well enough to know he was freaking out about not having a coat.

— Excuse me? Why are you acting like a child? I know you didn’t call me here, you jerk, but all your coats were at home, and I brought one for you.

— I don’t care what you say. I don’t want you here. Didn’t you notice that? I don’t even know if I want you in my bed anymore. Carmen’s words gradually softened until his last words came out as a confession that made your eyes fill with tears. — Stop being so clingy, for fuck’s sake. Claire was never like that. Carmen exploded, causing the kitchen to fall into an awkward silence.

— Well, maybe you should call Claire then, Carmen. You said, biting the inside of your cheek, feeling like you were being stabbed in the chest. And you couldn’t stop thinking that Claire had always been the center of Carmen’s attention as teenagers, why wouldn’t she be now?

— Maybe I will, maybe I’ll call her and say my annoying girlfriend is being a pain in the ass at my fucking job. At least Claire didn’t stick to me like glue when I got home and knew how to respect my space. She did something useful at work, for fuck’s sake. Carmen yelled, and your throat formed a huge lump, knowing you’d either cry like a baby in front of him or outside, and you preferred to do it away from his eyes.

— Go fuck yourself, Carmen. You said, turning your back on your boyfriend, refusing to look at him with tear-filled eyes again. Walking through the kitchen, Richie came up to you with wide eyes, stopping you midway, but you just pushed him aside, making him run to Carmen with his hands on his head.

— What the FUCK did you just do, cousin? FUCK. That woman is the love of your life, damn it. Look at what you just said to her, you idiot. Richie yelled in Carmen’s face, who looked at his friend with his hands on his face as regret hit him. It was like while he was saying all those nasty things to the girl he loved most, his mind was clouded with adrenaline and anger, not at her, but at the pressure he was feeling that ended up being dumped on her. Running out of the restaurant, trying to catch up with you, but it was too late, and you had already disappeared.

When night came, Carmen walked into the house, and immediately when the emptiness greeted him, his chest felt heavy with regret again. There were no warm kisses, whispered caresses in his oily curls from spending all day at the restaurant, and no you, tiny and eager to try the food he’d brought for you to taste. He approached your shared bedroom and saw you curled up under the covers, hugging a pillow that used to be him. You never slept before he got home, and immediately, the fear of losing you hit Carmen, who got in the shower and felt his tears fall as he thought about how stupid he’d been to treat the person who made him feel safe and good after Michael left so badly.

After he got out of the shower, Carmen knelt by your side of the bed and gently caressed your cheek with his thumb, making you stir briefly and open your eyes quickly. Your usually bright eyes were red from crying so much, and it was impossible for Carmen not to notice. In a leap, you pulled away from his touch and sat up in bed, avoiding his gaze.

— I brought food for you. Carmen said, and you just shook your head, lying back down, unable to really sleep again.

— I’m not hungry, thanks. You murmured weakly, and Carmen wanted to slap himself for treating his sweet girl so badly. Even after hurting you, you thanked him when he couldn’t even properly apologize.

— I… I’m sorry, sweetheart. Carmen said, looking at your back and only receiving a nod. You knew your voice would crack from the tears starting to fall again, and you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry anymore. Carmen's heart sank at your lack of response, feeling the weight of his words crushing him. — I didn't mean it, any of it. I was just... I'm an idiot, and I took everything out on you. You didn't deserve that. You never do.

He whispered, his voice trembling with genuine regret. You stayed silent, trying to process his words. You wanted to forgive him, but the pain was still fresh. — Please, look at me, Y/n. I can't stand seeing you like this.

Carmen pleaded, his hand reaching out to touch you again, but stopping midway, unsure if it was welcome.

— Do you know how much it hurts to hear that from the person you love the most? You finally spoke, your voice breaking, making Carmen wince at the raw emotion in your words.

— I know, and I'm so, so sorry. I don't know how to make it right, but I'll do anything. Just don't leave me, please. Carmen's desperation was evident, and you slowly turned to face him, seeing the genuine remorse in his eyes. It was hard to stay mad at someone who looked so broken.

— I just need you to be honest with me. If you need space, say it. If something's wrong, tell me...— You stopped for a second, apprehensive — Can I ask you something? Do you see her in the back of your mind all the time wishing I were her? You asked, sniffling, and immediately Carmen shook his head. — Because I see her, and I can't keep on someone's place.

— Claire and I didn't work out because she couldn't stand me, and I couldn't stand her. You're the reason I wake up every day, knowing I'm going to come back from the restaurant to here and you'll be here is what makes me want to keep going, Y/n. Claire didn't do that, she never did. I'm sorry. He whispered pulling you into his arms in a hug. — I love you, Y/n. I'm sorry for making you doubt that.

— I love you too, Carmy. But I swear if you make me feel this shit again, I'll leave you forever, that's your only chance to do the right things, Carmen

— I promise. I'll be better. I don't ever want to lose you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. He confessed, his eyes filled with tears. You sighed. and Carmen hugged you tighter as he mumbled several apologies in a row.

— Can we take a nap now, please? I can't sleep without you.

— But what about the restaurant?

— They can handle lunch without me. He said, picking you up and carrying you to the neatly made bed.

[maevesheart]

only angel (2)

FINNICK ODAIR X FEM!READER

note: wasn’t originally planning on making a part two to this but it just seemed so unfinished??!?! and i love ruthless reader idk she’s a queen

summary: through your alliance with katniss, you and finnick rekindle some buried feelings.

wc: 5.2k

tw: violence, death, brutal!!reader, blood, allusions to forced prostitution

only angel (1)

SEVEN YEARS EARLIER, THE 68TH HUNGER GAMES

Brutus and Enobaria sat in front of you and Mace, your district mate.

They reminded you of strategies that you had been taught your whole life, ensuring that as long as you two played into the Capitol’s hands, you’d get plenty of sponsors and come out alive.

Mace and you had never been close back home, but you saw him in the shopping centers, had some mutual friends. It was someone familiar, and even though your two mentors spent more time perfecting your wielding of knives and crocodile tears, you hoped Mace could somehow make it far in the games. Like you knew you would.

Enobaria and Brutus had introduced you to the various other Career Tributes, taking their time to butter up the other mentors, ensuring a ticket for your survival.

You were small compared to the other tributes, even the girl from Twelve was bigger than you.

But you trained, and you trained hard, showing off the various knife and sword tricks that had been engraved in your brain since you were a child.

Enobaria helped with your endurance, shocked by how fast you were. She had instructed you to not show that off to the other tributes, don’t give too much away.

After the private sessions with your mentors, you were stronger, faster, and more agile than Mace could even dream. You almost felt bad, the way Enobaria and Brutus were setting him up for death.

But, at the end of the day, only one can make it out alive.

Enobaria was strategic, determined for you to win. She instructed you to not show too many strengths in the private session with the Gamemakers, just enough to get a respectable score for someone from a Career District.

You followed her instructions to a tee, refusing to be one of the 23 fallen.

For the interviews, Ceasar laughed at your innocent comments and jokes, complimenting the head piece you wore, noting how it looked like a halo.

“Beautiful, like an Angel,” he smiled, the crowed cheering in agreement.

You giggled, smoothing down the uncomfortable golden dress they had sewn you into.

The crowd roared with your unwavering confidence, the arrogance paired with your baby-face and innocent smile was enough to send them into a fit of convivial.

It was just too easy.

The night before the games you had snuck out of the floor for Two, going up to the rooftop in hopes of having a moment to yourself.

You perched on the ledge, a small nightgown barely covering your shivering body.

You closed your eyes to relish in what could possibly be your last moments of peace, before being snapped from your trance by footsteps echoing.

You whipped around, teeth barring and senses on high alert. You were already acting like the wild animal Enobaria had been training you to be.

“Not in the arena just yet,” a smooth voice sounds out, a boy a few years older than you coming into view.

You recognized him as Finnick Odair. He had won a few years back, and was now returning as a mentor.

You ignored him, turning back to the outline of the Capitol.

He approached you slowly, leaning his body against the glass railing you were propped against.

You looked up to him, tired-eyes meeting his, somehow seemingly sparkling.

“Unfortunately,” you spoke, your mouth in a straight line. Enobaria had introduced you to him during the parade, but his tributes were not ally-material.

He laughed at your response. You stared at him, unamused.

“Feisty,” he smirked, watching you look away from him and back to the skyline.

“Not really in the mood to talk about my fate,” you said, his eyes still burning two holes into the side of your face.

His smile dropped slightly, having once been in your position himself.

He reminded himself you were only 15. A year older than he was when he won.

He had only won 3 years ago, and stood on this same rooftop. Looking out on the same city skyline.

Your peripheral vision caught him lean both his forearms onto the glass, shifting closer to you.

“Is it just as scary as it seems?” You ask. You were a child. A child that had been trained to hunt and kill. But deep down, you were just a scared kid. How would you kill all those people?

Finnick hums, acknowledging the same question that wracked his mind the nights before his games.

“It is,” he recognized your fear, but refused to give you false hope that it wouldn’t be as brutal as it truly is.

The words Enobaria had spoken to you earlier bounced around your brain, it’s just killing. Self-defense. All of it. Don’t be scared to kill someone who isn’t scared to kill you.

You let out a long breath, closing your eyes.

“I don’t want to die,”

It was quiet, but Finnick heard it, head perking up and turning to stare at you.

The role as a tribute was meant to bring great honor to someone from your district, but you were terrified. You were young, passionate. You had so much to give and so little time to give it all.

“Enobaria told me to hide my strengths, and I did. I’ll be able to kill them, once it comes down to it. But how will I live with myself?”

Finnick asked himself the same question everyday. How did he kill all those people? Sure, it was survival. Him or them. But how do you continue your life, pretending like you hadn’t murdered people on live national television?

“I—“ Finnick fell short, eyes still watching the side of your face.

“How do you cope with it all?” You finally turned to him, salty tears on your cheeks.

He knew you were preparing yourself for the inevitable. He had heard Enobaria boast about you, and had seen you in training. Other tributes would be frightened to get close to you.

He didn’t answer, swallowing thickly. You would soon understand, you would be in his position.

You choked out a sob, hands wrapping around your body.

He watched with wild eyes, before pulling you into his warm chest, head burrowing in his body.

You made no move to remove yourself from his body, and his arms were snug against your back.

“Kill as many as you can, as soon as you can. Then lay low, hunt. Don’t fall for any of that ally-bullshit.”

His voice was rushed, eyes filled with emotion. He felt for you, a scared child. He remembered his fear all too well.

You sniffled in his chest, hands balling at the thin fabric of his top.

And you listened to him.

In those next few hours, during the bloodbath, you killed two, both with knives to the chest. The Capitol citizens cheered as your face reflected the highest kill-count. You knew it was nothing to be proud of.

That next evening, while the rest of the Career pack slept, you stole the boy from One’s — Yves — backpack, shoving their weapons into it as quietly as possible.

Your small size came handy, being able to stealthily move around them, you were lucky the arena was a desert, sand not making a noise.

The girl from One — Aithon — began to lightly stir, and you knew it was now or never. Finnick’s words from the night before mixed with Enobaria���s, and that was all you needed to take a sword in each hand and take down the two tributes from One.

Their deaths were quick, the canons sounding out and Mace waking up, his laying figure looking up at you. Small but powerful.

You stood over his body, one foot on each of his arms, keeping him from reaching up to you.

His face twisted in confusion, looking over to the blood pouring from Yves and Aithon, each who had just been sleeping soundly next to him.

Your knife neared his face in milliseconds, and you had to force your arms down as he began to scream.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could whisper, guilt beginning to cloud your senses.

But you pushed past it, knowing you had to come out alive. No other option.

“Y/N! Please!”

And then there was silence.

He wasn’t anything special, but he was from home.

You held in tears as the canon sounded, running from the three as quickly as you could.

Whilst you hid behind one of the large cacti around the arena, Enobaria grinned as Capitol citizens celebrated her and you, her star tribute.

Finnick watched, heart tugging, knowing that he had encouraged the killings, he had told you to trust no one. And you had listened.

And from then on, you became the Capitol’s angel, their winged symbol of purity, despite the blood and deaths of many on your hands.

When Snow placed the crown on your head, you smiled, naively, and thanked the crowd. Thanked them for their donations, and their belief in you from the beginning.

But that’s all you were to them: a spectacle. A little girl who killed five in one day, a little girl who’s life had been dedicated to these games, to win. A little girl who would never get her purity back, never get to sleep without seeing Mace’s terrified face before she killed him.

He didn’t deserve it, none of them did. But it was life or death. And there was no way you were going to die.

PRESENT DAY, THE THIRD QUARTER QUELL

Your group continued up to the Cornucopia, you and Finnick taking the tail.

Peeta and Finnick drew a map in the dark sand, you leaned against the side of the metal Cornucopia, Johanna plopping down next to you, and Katniss on your other side.

It all happened in a blur. One second, Wiress was singing her song about a mouse and the clock, and the next, Gloss was on top of her, knife straight into the heart.

Katniss’s arrow struck him, you grabbing your swords to get Cashmere who was standing behind him.

Finnick rushed after you. He knew you could take Cashmere, but what happened if Brutus appeared? Brutus had never been kind to you, and it was doubtful he would start now.

Your sword stuck Cashmere in the leg, and she screamed, falling onto the little amount of ground that the middle sector offered.

She turned over, knife in her left hand, grazing your ankle slightly. Luckily your stylist had dressed you in thicker socks; she had been an absolute idiot about most things, but at least she had your back in the arena.

Your thigh was still slightly burning with pain, but you pushed through it, sticking both your swords into Cashmere’s chest, a strangled gasp leaving her lips and her head falling back against the ground.

The canon sounded out, but you continued to pull your swords out and drive them back into her chest, more blood pouring out.

You were grunting now, mind hyper-aware of your actions, but refusing to stop.

You kept driving the sharp tools into her chest, her body slightly moving up when you retracted the metal, and then caving in as you pushed them back.

You weren’t going to die; you refused to.

Hands were on your shoulders, pulling you backwards, and you turned, swinging.

Finnick let go and backed away, hands held up. He knew you’d never hurt him, but once you’re in the killing mindset, it’s very hard to break it.

You dropped the weapons to your side, a long breath leaving your lips that you hadn’t realized you’d be holding in.

Finnick pulled you along with him, hand on your side as he brought you over to everyone else.

All of them were staring with wide eyes — besides Johanna of course.

Katniss knew you were brutal, but she didn’t realize how quickly you did turn into the angel of death. One second you were smiling, laughing at something Johanna had said.

Then your eyes were lit with a fire, teeth out, and running, faster than Katniss had ever seen someone move.

She had watched you kill Cashmere in seconds, continuing to drive the weapons into her, sounds of exasperation leaving your lips but you were unrelenting.

You felt like you were fifteen again, scared and angry, brutal to anyone who crossed your path. Your swordsmanship was uncanny, and Katniss dreaded the moment that she had to try and kill you.

And then the Cornucopia began to spin, extremely fast. You grabbed onto Finnick, a sword sucking down into the water, your other tight in the palm of your opposite hand.

You and Finnick fell to the ground, grabbing at the hard rocks to keep from flying to the water.

And then you heard Peeta scream Katniss’s name, and the two of you both yelled a loud, “shit!”

You pushed off the hard ground, crawling to the side of the island, hand reaching down to grab Johanna’s axe and try to hoist the two of them up.

You grunted, holding onto a small portion of the metal that wasn’t sharp. Your feet dug into the ground, sword shoved into the rock to keep you grounded.

You watched as Katniss went flying down, and then Johanna was on top of you, the two of you gasping for oxygen when the spinning stopped.

You and Johanna were back on your feet, rushing to help Katniss out of the water.

You all made your way back onto the sand, where it was relatively safe.

You discussed strategy, your fingers tracing different shapes into Finnick’s thigh.

“Who’s left then?” Katniss asked, eyes flickering between you and Johanna, the two of you having a conversation with your eyes.

“Brutus and Chaff, I think that’s all,” Peeta announced, all eyes shifting to you at the mention of your district-mate.

“I get Brutus,” you spoke clearly, eyes hard.

“Y/N…” Finnick spoke, hand smoothing down your arm.

“Just… I know him. I can handle it, I swear,”

He had helped train you, of course you would know his methods like the back of your hand. You had been seeking revenge for years, waiting for the day you could get him back.

What had the games done to you? Fantasizing about killing someone?

And then you were back there, back to the moment your life really ended.

You were dressed in clothes Snow had picked out, a hairstyle Snow had picked out, makeup Snow had picked out. You were his newest doll, malleable to his every demand.

It was your victory tour, and Enobaria and Brutus were accompanying you, helping you with speeches and coming to terms with your new life as a Capitol pet.

You were finishing up in the Capitol, the final destination. Snow had laid out his conditions for you: your pride and body now belonged to the Capitol, and with it, they could do what they pleased. Your company came with a high price.

He had threatened your family back in Two, describing in detail what would become of them if you didn’t comply with his wishes.

You had gone back to the train and told Enobaria and Brutus, eyes spilling hot tears when Enobaria pulled you into her arms, hands stroking your hair. At least she was kind.

Brutus, however, was not.

His boisterous laugh rang off the walls of the train, your eyes peeking out from Enobaria’s embrace to glare at him.

“Let me know when you start, sweetheart,” he smirked, a scowl overtaking your features.

You had been waiting to get him back, to show him that weren’t a little slave for his disposal. Finnick understood your rage, more than any other person could.

He wanted to kill Brutus just as badly as you did.

No one else asked any questions, and for that you were grateful.

And then the screaming started, and you jumped to your feet, eyes frantic and scanning the area.

Whoever it was, they were screaming for Katniss, and rather brutally as well.

And off she took. You were the fastest, so you caught her first, arms around her shoulders to steady her, but she kept moving, screaming back to the voice.

She stopped abruptly, and shot an arrow into a large black bird that was flying over your heads.

The screaming stopped immediately. And then it began again, this time, it was the voice of Mace. And you felt the blood drain from your entire body, legs suddenly shaking and threatening to go out.

The words he had screamed to you before you had slit his throat were wrapping around your body, swallowing you whole.

“Y/N! Please! Y/N!” You were running then, the screaming getting louder and louder, tears streaming down your face as you tried to escape it; the horror that would haunt you forever.

“It’s not real, they’re jabberjays!” Katniss assured you, running behind you, trying to catch up.

You saw Finnick and Johanna’s faces ahead through your blurry vision, and you sped up, Finnick’s arms wide for you to run into.

But it was a force field, and you collided right into it, falling to the ground in a heap of tears and painful memories.

You covered your ears, head digging into the ground to stop the noise, but it wouldn’t stop. You wailed, and Finnick was hitting the force field, which he was standing on the direct other side, but there was no avail.

He was screaming for you, to look at him, listen to his voice. But the field was soundproof, and he had to watch with a heavy heart as you sobbed, the sounds of the person you betrayed all those years ago the only thing you could focus on.

Finnick’s hands were all over you, smoothing down your hair, checking your face, helping you stand.

Peeta was doing the same with Katniss, the both of you having tear-stains down your cheeks and dirt smudged into your cheeks.

You were frozen solid, eyes big and wide, legs slightly shaking. You had never felt worse about something than what you did to Mace that dreadful night. His screams haunted your dreams, and to have the Gamemakers play into that weakness reminded you just who the real enemy is.

“Y/N, look at me,” Finnick’s hands were on the sides of your face, pulling you closer to his protective figure.

“It wasn’t real. It wasn’t him,” he shook his head lightly, your lips still quivering from fear.

You could only muster the strength to simply nod, telling him that you knew, but the Gamemakers were cruel, so cruel, and they had hit you right where it hurt.

Just as you were beginning to regain your usual automatic-kill mindset, a small box flew down, straight into your hands.

Everyone gathered around you, curious as to what could’ve been sent.

You knew Enobaria would have your back, and considering the sponsors this year were based upon what you had left over from your games, you were lucky. You had a large pot of donations under your name, not needing much assistance when you were in your first games.

You screwed off the top, being met with a small vile of Crave Cure, the very concoction that she had sent you during your games. It came with a note reading: remember who the real enemy is. I’m always rooting for you. - Baria

That assured you of Enobaria’s stance, likely scheming with Haymitch and Plutarch behind the scenes, ensuring your protection by Thirteen.

Finnick smiled next to you, Johanna calling out with happiness.

“Finally!” Johanna cheered, axe thrust into the air.

You even broke a smile, suddenly distracted from the traumatic experience you had just endured.

You looked up, seeing the confused looks on Katniss and Peeta’s faces.

They would’ve never heard of Crave Cure, it was the most expensive thing a mentor could send their tribute, and required many sponsors. It was usually only sent to the Careers, both you and Finnick had received it during your games.

“Crave Cure,” you spoke, Katniss’s eyes meeting yours.

“One drop on your tongue and it cures hunger for 12 hours,” you smiled to them, picking up the vile.

“Enobaria is a saint,” Johanna spoke, watching as you dropped a tiny bit of the brown liquid onto your tongue, a content sigh escaping your lips.

Beetee went next, then Finnick and Johanna.

Katniss and Peeta stood awkwardly to the side, not knowing to approach or not.

“Oh, enough of that! We’re allied, aren’t we? Take a drop,” you urged, placing the vile into her hands.

Peeta nodded, and that seemed to be all the convincing Katniss needed before mimicking your action and gagging when she tasted the fluid.

You laughed at her expression, a light-hearted tease. “Not the best, but it does do its job,”

You figured you had really won her trust, considering how she walked next to you during the hike to the big tree.

The two of you talked about your families back home. You complimented her dedication, to protect her little sister.

She had killed your Cato and Clove; the two you had spent hours coaching, assuring they’d be okay in the end. Words you had needed so badly during your games.

Through talking with Katniss, you realized no one deserved to win as much as she did. She was selfless, willing to sacrifice herself for both her sister and Peeta, placing herself as a protector, not a victim.

And then the peace you had all been building crashed down, Katniss suddenly retreating from the trust you all had built after Beetee offered she go with you and Johanna.

“Why can’t Johanna and Y/N go? I’ll protect you with Peeta,” she spoke, and you met Finnick’s gaze. You read the fear in his eyes, knowing this the was now or never moment.

“Katniss,” you spoke, hands resting on her shoulders.

“You know who the true enemy is,” you whispered, holding her intense eye-contact.

Her eyes softened at your words, everything seemingly clicking into place. With a nod, you grabbed her hand, and pulled her with you and Johanna.

A look over your shoulder to Finnick, and a nod. Your eyes said it all: I love you. I’ll see you soon, once we are safe and out of the Capitol’s hands.

You and Johanna halted your movements, stopping Katniss as you did.

“Stay down,” Johanna instructed Katniss, grabbing her arm.

“What-“ Katniss was about to scream, and you could not let that happen.

You grabbed her face with your hands, eyes frantic for her faith.

“You can trust us,” you whispered, barely loud enough for the cameras to pick up on.

But the raw emotion in your eyes calmed Katniss, giving Johanna the opportunity to cut the tracker out, Katniss’s arm beginning to bleed heavily.

“It’s alright,” you soothed her, your arm out to Johanna, waiting for the inevitable sear of pain.

And then it came, and you placed your body over Katniss’s not allowing her to get up and try to attack.

But then you spotted Brutus over the rock, his hard eyes staring straight into yours.

“Y/N,” Johanna warned, watching the familiar fire begin to brew.

You were up in seconds, sword in one hand, knife in the other, running up the rocky hill. The pain in your arm was masked by the rush of adrenaline you ran high off, killing spree — if you will.

Johanna grunted in anger, but she knew not to expect anything different from you.

“Do not move,” she instructed Katniss, picking up her axe to follow you.

You had reached Brutus quickly, pouncing onto his back and driving your sword straight through his abdomen.

He cried out in pain, blood soon coating your legs that wrapped around his waist.

You pulled the sword out, taking the knife to his neck. He was dead in seconds, the familiar canon sounding throughout the arena.

After registering what you had done, images of Katniss flooded your mind and you internally cursed yourself, rushing back to the spot you had left her and Johanna.

Johanna was back to your side, but Katniss was no where to be seen.

“Fuck!” You cursed, sprinting back towards the tree where Beetee, Finnick, and Peeta were.

She had likely gone back to protect Peeta and kill Finnick, and you were not about to let that happen.

Johanna tried to keep up with you; but even with a gushing arm and slit leg, you were fast. Much faster than anyone else.

“Finnick!” You screamed, feet pounding against the hard ground, propelling you towards the tree, where you watched Katniss aim her arrow straight at Finnick’s head.

Beetee was on the ground, and you crouched, feeling for his pulse. His heart was still beating and you hovered over him protectively, in case Katniss decided to turn around and fire at you too. Which seemed very likely.

You watched as Finnick said something to Katniss, obviously resonating with her, the bow slightly lowering.

“Johanna! Give me your arm!” You swung around, panic-struck and searching for the familiar face.

And you saw her a few feet below, trying to climb the vines you had mounted with ease.

You looked between Finnick and her, torn as to which to try and protect. You knew Finnick would hold his own, so you turned back around and began to move for Johanna, quick feet avoiding possible injuries.

But just as you were in grabbing-distance of her, Finnick’s voice rang out, screaming, “Get away from that tree!”

A crack of something echoed around you, and you turned wildly, trying to figure out what had just happened.

Then you understand what Finnick had meant, a loud crack of lightening rained down and sent you flying, reaching for Johanna as you flew past her, her terrified eyes meeting yours.

The last thing you remembered was being pulled up into the air by a large claw, head and limbs limp as you were hoisted up; sword still secure in your palm, a protection habit you had picked up since your games. You always needed to be armed, after all, life was the arena.

You awoke to the sound of a heart monitor, steady beeping lightly calming your high-alert nerves.

You winced sitting up, large bandages wrapped around your forearm and thigh.

You inspected your surroundings, two empty mats in front of you, and Katniss sleeping to your left.

You stood, hushed voices on the other side of the door that reached the ceiling of the craft you were on.

You looked for a weapon of sorts, not willing to go in unarmed. On the other side of the empty room was your sword, glimmering and coated in blood.

You walked over to it, legs sore and aching, the familiar metal calming against your palm.

The door immediately opened as you approached it, Haymitch and Plutarch’s widening as they spotted your weapon of choice clutched in your ruthless hands.

But it dropped to the floor with a loud clatter when your tired eyes met Finnick’s, a relieved smile coming over your features.

You rushed to him, throwing yourself into his arms. His lips met yours halfway, melting into his strong hold around your body.

The two of you fit together perfectly, like you had been made in the same mold.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him tighter to your already close bodies.

You poured all your pent up feelings into the kiss, all the feelings you had suppressed since the fight that had ended your relationship.

It was the most relaxed you had been in the whole week, since your name was plucked from the bowl of living victors.

His lips moved against yours as he squeezed your hips, hands feeling everything they could, to ensure that it was in fact you, and you were alive and safe in front of him.

You pulled a part, a grin across your small face.

He smiled back, but your bliss was interrupted from the clearing of a throat behind you. You spun around, eyes meeting the expectant ones of Haymitch, Plutarch, and Beetee.

The look on your face said it all. And Haymitch nodded, validating all the thoughts that had been running through your head.

You were safe, headed for the secret hideout of Thirteen. All was okay.

You almost began to laugh thinking about how the Capitol would react, their Angel and Darling being two of the biggest conspirators in a rebellion. How ironic.

And Katniss was on the ship, you had successfully carried out your tasks.

“Where’s Johanna?” You asked, a smile still dotting your face.

Finnick’s composure broke, and your heart dropped, realizing the obvious.

“No, no, no, no,” you began to back away, spine hitting the hard metal of the table.

“I went after Brutus, I didn’t cut the tracker… fuck! Oh my god, Finnick, oh god,” you began to dry-heave, accepting her capture as your fault.

Finnick’s hands were on your biceps, steadying you and pulling you back into his chest.

“Johanna and Peeta are in the Capitol,” Plutarch spoke, your worst fears being confirmed.

“It’s all my fault,” you groaned, head in your hands. You had killed, hunted, and tortured. But the idea of a friend’s death being on your hands hurt more than any of those ever did.

Haymitch spoke reassuring words behind you, but Finnick’s hold and the idea of betraying Johanna was all you could focus on.

How would she forgive you? Was she alive? How would you ever cope if she wasn’t, and it was all your fault? Of course, you let the murderer take over, and went after Brutus.

Finnick’s arms soothed down your back, keeping your grounded as you were flooded with grief, with the heavy weight of betrayal.

Johanna and you were close friends, you were supposed to protect each other in the games. She had protected you, always by your side, and you neglected to do the same.

“We’re going to try and rescue them as soon as we can,” Haymitch said, even though you all knew that might be an impossible task.

And then Finnick slipped his hand into yours, fingers curling around yours and softly rubbing your knuckles.

You composed yourself, closing your eyes as you took in a deep breath, regaining focus on just your interlocked hands. Finnick always knew how to relax you.

All you had wanted initially was to get out of this quarter quell alive, to return home to your big mansion and family. To hug them again, to prove to the Capitol that they could take everything from you, but they couldn’t kill you.

But now, you realized that all had been in vain. Where you really belonged was here, holding hands with Finnick, discussing how you were going to break your friends from the Capitol’s mean grip.

You’d die for him, for them. You’d flap your wings once more to ensure they’d all live.

When Katniss first volunteered for Primrose, you hadn’t understood how she would sacrifice her life for another.

But now you knew, and you knew you’d do it too.

You finally had something to live for, someone you loved, who understood all that you had gone through better than anyone else.

Life was the arena, and if it came down to it, you knew the angel would sacrifice herself for the darling.

**

[moonknightsonata]

Acts of Service

pairing: moon system x reader, marc x reader centered

summary: You learn Steven and Jake’s love languages quickly, Marc’s takes a little longer to realize but it doesn’t surprise you.

cw: not many, a brief non-explicit mention of sex, Marc getting anxious about your relationship

wc: 1199

a/n: Happy new year! This is not beta read, my first time writing for the moon boys and also my first time posting and sharing a fic in probably like 5+ years. Please let me know if I’ve missed any warnings, and let me know what you think! I tried keeping the reader as inclusive as I could, but please let me know if I slipped up with anything.

—

When you first started seeing the system, they all showed affection in similar ways. Holding hands, chaste kisses, flowers at the start of dates and walking you home at the end of them. They each had their own ways of going about it, but at the start all 3 of them were stereotypical in their affection.

Now, months later, you could easily tell each of the boy’s love languages.

Steven fluttered between quality time and words of affirmation. He was a romantic at heart, so in reality, he would do anything you asked of him, really. But you could tell he was happiest just being near you, telling you how much he loved you, and hearing the words in return.

Date night with Steven would be art galleries, museum tours, site seeing, or just walking around the markets hand in hand. Cafe’s and bookshops for rainy days, which there were plenty of in London, filled weekends with him where you could just sit in each other’s company and read besides one another.

Jake was the master of physical touch. You think it’s because he didn’t have as much time fronting as the other two, and his only physical touch with humans up until the three started getting along was when he took over the body in emergencies like in Cairo. When Jake was fronting, his hands were always on you.

Jake always had his arm on you when in public. Around your shoulder, or on your waist, he didn’t have a preference as long as he had you in his arm in some way. You liked to compare him to a livestock dog. Not like sheepdogs who herded them, but like a pyrenees that would fight a wolf off a lamb.

He was also the most handsy in the bedroom.

Marc took the longest to pinpoint his love language. Mostly due to the fact that he was the last to open up to a relationship with you.

You had met Steven first, dated Steven first, and then met Jake and Marc along the way. The relationship with Jake blossomed easily, but Marc still had walls he had built standing steady, that he wasn’t ready to break down yet. For a while even, you weren’t sure he liked you. After anxieties about it were aired out, Marc reassured you he did like you, he was “just shit at showing it” as he had put it. He hadn’t wanted to get close, mess things up with you and risk everything Steven and Jake had with you. That was the turning point for you and Marc’s relationship.

You thought it was behind you, until you noticed Marc’s odd behavior one day.

“Marc, baby, are you alright?” You asked him, leaning against the kitchen counter as he washed dishes.

“Hm?” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, nodding as he kept his attention mostly on the pan he was scrubbing. “Yea, fine, why’d you ask?”

“Because you’ve been scrubbing that pan for about 10 minutes now. I think it’s clean.” You smiled softly, as his brow scrunched when he realized.

“Fine… yeah. I just… you know I love you?” He finished his sentence more like a question.

“Of course I know. I love you too.” You moved closer to him, putting a hand on his cheek to look him in the eyes. “What brought this about?”

“I don’t… I don’t say it enough. When we met you weren’t even sure I liked you, and now I don’t even say I love you as often as Jake or Steven do. So I just…” Marc lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand to his hair, pushing his curls out of his face as he steps away from you. You give him his space, you know when he needs it. To work out emotions without feeling suffocated or closed in.

“Just thought maybe you weren’t sure again.”

Marc avoids looking directly at your face as you look at his. You understand him, more than you probably know, which scares Marc. Not in a bad way, but scares him in a way he can’t believe there was someone out there who could.

Which is why what you say shouldn’t surprise him, but it does anyway.

“You don’t have to say it in the same way Steven or Jake do for me to know.” You start softly. “You have a different way of showing it, than they do.”

Marc’s eyebrows furrow, even more than the wrinkled brow he usually has.

He can only describe the look on your face that you give him as adoring, as you continue.

“The days that you front, you’re always up before me. Whether you’re an early riser or you never really fell asleep that night - you know exactly how to make my coffee in the morning and I always wake up to a cup made the way I like sitting on the counter waiting for me.

“I also know that it isn’t Jake who had my car’s oil changed, or the tires rotated a couple weeks ago.”

Marc shrugs at that one, mumbles something that you think is “That’s not a big deal.”

As you tell him all this, you can’t believe it took you this long to realize that Marc’s love language was acts of service. Because of course it was. Marc, the giver. Marc, who always felt he needed to prove his worth and make up for sins of his past, by any means necessary. Your Marc, who did so much for you without expecting a ‘thank you’ because that was how he showed he cared.

You kept going with more examples.

“Last week I forgot my umbrella and my lunch in the apartment and you came all the way to my job to drop them off for me.” You wrap your arms around Marc’s waist at this, resting your head against him in a hug.

“Or, when it’s cold, you always turn my heated blanket on the bed while I’m doing my night time routine, so that the bed is nice and warm by the time I climb in. And when -“ You could keep going, listing the things you notice Marc does for you, but he stops you with flushed cheeks.

“Okay, okay, I get it. I do a lot for you.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes playfully as he wraps his arms around you to return the hug. “I like taking care of you.”

“You take care of me because you love me.”

Marc nods, kissing your forehead. “Yeah, I do. I’m just sorry I don’t say it more.”

“I don’t need you to. It’s nice to hear, but I still know it. You show me every day.” You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss, which Marc gratefully returns.

“And I’ll continue to show you every day, until you get tired of me.”

“I’d never get tired of you, baby. You, Jake and Steven are all stuck with me.”

Marc laughs. “Stuck with you? Making it sound like that’s a bad thing. Honey, I think you’re the one ‘stuck’ with the three of us.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Legionary

Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x Lucius Verus x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Marcus returns to his hometown while traveling with his young soldier who's eager to learn from him. Good thing he knows your domus is always open to him. Warnings: SMUT, bad Roman definitions, MMF, softdom!Marcus Acacius, oral (f&m receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie, lots of praise kink, m!masturbation, wine. Words: 3,400

Trēs Masterlist Masterlist

A/N: Oh hi! This is my first fic in almost two months, it's been a whirlwind of a time in my personal life, but that Gladiator trailer lit SOMETHING FILTHY in me. I know VERY LITTLE about roman times, other than the stuff I learned years and years ago in history and bits from Assassins Creed games. I know angel wasn’t really a “thing” back then but I’m using it. This hasn't been beta read and this is my first dive into MMF. A big shout out to @pascalispretty for some language help and of course @ohheypedrito for always being my sounding board. A few definitions are below to note before reading.

municipium: town | domus: home | hospitium: hotel | subligaculum: underwear 

The gate creaks as it swings open, interrupting your respite.

“Angel” the man’s familiar deep voice sends a shiver down your spine, his dark brown eyes focus on your wide eyes. 

“M-Marcus,” your voice shakes when you rise and bow to him. Ten years since you’ve seen him, Marcus Acacius, your municipium’s pride and joy, now a powerful general, commanding armies across the battlefield. Now he stands in front of you just as handsome as he was all those years ago… the hold on your heart returns. 

You’re a rarity in your municipium, running a small hospitium out of your domus hosting weary travelers and soldiers perfectly capable of doing everything on your own, yet the sight of Acacius sends you right back to the last time you saw him… your teenage crush disappearing beyond the horizon as he heads for war. 

Gray hairs streak his lush, curly hair, he’s just as beautiful as he was all those years ago. 

“No need to do that angel,” grabbing your hand he brings it to his mouth, you sink at the touch of his lips on your hand. “It’s been so long.”

“Yes, quite long,” your voice squeaks out.

“Lucius and I need a room,” Marcus nods towards the handsome blue eyed man behind him. The vision of them sends a spark to your core, corded muscles, golden skin, strength exuding out of both of them, they’re a dream. “We’re here for the night.”

___

The wine flows, Marcus is just as warm and comforting as you remember. The attraction between you crackles and sparks like the fire burning in the corner of the room. 

A slight touch against your back turns into a hand laid across your hip, pulling your body closer to his. Lucius watches all of it from across the room, his blue eyes glowing in the aureate light of the flames.

You invite all of the attention put forth by the two men, the sweet wine loosens the three of your inhibitions, laughter growing louder, stories and confessions turning more risque, Marcus’ touch searing hotter against your skin. 

“So, angel, it looks like you still haven’t found anyone good enough to have your heart?” His tone is teasing, his smile infectious.

“Not yet, still haven’t found someone as handsome or as good as you, you know all of my choices around here are nothing compared to you,” you giggle. 

His eyes darken at your words, a light joke turns serious at your confession.

Turning to him, the whole room, including his blue eyed companion, disappears. Your breath hitches at the look he gives you. Deep, dark, brooding, his pouty lips cocked up in a smirk. The look invites you to confess further. 

“I’ve thought about you every day since you left all those years ago. You pulled me apart and then left me alone to try to find someone else. You know nobody could have ever compared to you… to my first.”

His hand finds your cheek, you lean into the rough texture of his digits, eyes welling with all of the tears you refused to shed through the years. 

“Don’t speak like that angel, I’m here now. I’m here tonight. I’m here for you.” Your eyes follow Acacius’ as he looks over at Lucius, your sorrow replaced by wanton lust when you hear his voice drop deeper, “We’re both here for you tonight.” 

A gasp leaves your lips at the suggestion, your eyes still trained on Lucius. 

“Is that what you want? Both of us tonight angel? Let me prove to you how much I’ve thought of you. How I’ve destroyed every being that stood between you and I. How my heart leapt out of my chest at the sight of you. Let me show my soldier what it means to pleasure a woman. Is that what you want?” A chaste kiss is left against your exposed shoulder. His words swirl through your head, sending a rush of slick between your legs.

“Yes Marcus,” you answer.  

“Good. Do you hear that soldier? Watch as her body reacts to me.” He grabs your chin, angling it up for his plush lips to surround yours, a sigh rolls through your body. You turn to putty in his hands, malleable and ready to form yourself into any shape he wishes. He turns towards his companion, your lips chasing his, the kiss wasn’t enough. “Now go ahead, ask her what she wants, soldier, listen to her.”

Lucius sits up straighter, his shoulders rise. He is a soldier, eager to listen to his commander. “What do you want?” His words melt through you, strong and powerful, just like Marcus.

You take what you want, they’re only here for one night. “I want you both to touch me.”

The chuckle Marcus lets out vibrates against your ear before he stands and helps you up.

“You hear that?” 

Lucius nods. 

“Then come closer Lucius, she wants us both.”

Marcus’ hand runs up your spine to the knot that keeps your body sheathed in your dress, one quick pull and the fabric pools on the floor. 

A river of blue roams your body as Lucius takes in your bare form. 

Marcus stands behind you pulling you against him, the metal on his uniform presses against your skin, you wish the appliques would sear against your skin as a reminder of this night forever.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Marcus’ deep timbre sends a wave of pleasure through your body. Goosebumps cover your skin. 

“Quite,” Lucius whispers.

“Speak up soldier, a woman like this deserves to hear your praise.”

“Quite,” he stands straighter. “She’s very beautiful.”

“You see Lucius, a woman needs to be touched gently and cared for.” His calloused hand slides across the soft skin between your breasts. “Too many men take what they want and ravage, without any concern for the pleasure of their partner.”

Lucius’ eyes roam your body, his tongue peaking out to wet his lips. You wonder if they taste sweet like Marcus’ lips… like wine and honey.

Your breasts are cradled between Marcus’ hands. “Do you like this angel?” A low approving groan escapes your mouth. “Touch her soldier.”

Another set of hands joins the exploration of your skin. Marcus leads a trail down your stomach and hips, less rough and smaller hands replace his, cupping your breasts, your nipples pebbling as he twists and pulls them. 

“You never want to start too soon, you want to work a woman up, get her nice and warmed up, make her wet between the legs. You're a big man Lucius, you want her to be soft and welcoming for you.” His hands move to your core, parting your folds, running a finger through your wetness. “That takes work,” whispers across your neck before his tongue licks a line across it.  

The last time he touched you like this he swore his love and devotion to you, repeated how he’ll miss you more than the Gods could comprehend come morning. He told you he’d come back for you, though you both knew it was a lie, as long as he kept touching you, you didn’t care what untruths left his mouth.

Now, years later, he’s back for the night, his finger teasing your clit and his mouth against your skin. 

“Touch Lucius, go on, I know he wants it, but he’s being a good man and not taking what isn’t his. Let him know you want him angel.”

You’re eager to listen, to please Marcus, just like you’re under his command too. Your hands reach out to feel the young soldier’s arms, Lucius’ biceps are firm, bright blue eyes dart up to yours at the first touch, his eyes shine like the sunniest summer sky, another gush of wetness pools against Marcus’ hand. His young squire reminds you of him years ago, youthful and bright eyed, muscular and soft skinned. His brawn would seem so much more intimidating if it wasn’t for his burly leader standing behind you with his hand between your legs. 

Lucius hisses when your hands run up his chest to wrap around his neck pulling him closer, his breath puffing against your face as your tongue darts out to lick his lips. His nose crashes against yours when you kiss him, his lips aren't as plush as Marcus’ but you were right, they too taste sweet. His tongue joins yours, your kisses turning messier while Marcus worships you, sticking two of his thick fingers inside you. 

You’re thankful for Marcus’ broad body against your back and Lucius’ hands against your chest, both of them propping you up while your legs grow shakier from the pleasure.

“Feel how she’s trembling against you soldier? You like how she’s sucking at your lips while I make her cum all over my fingers?” Lucius groans against your lips at Marcus’ words. Four hands work your body to a quick orgasm, your naked body rocking between the two military men, your pussy clenching Marcus’ fingers as a rush of warmth rolls across your limbs. Overwhelmed by their touch, you’ve never felt more powerful and powerless. 

“That’s a good angel,” Marcus whispers into your ear. His fingers pull out, a whimper flits out of your lips at the loss of fullness.

“Do you want to taste her soldier?” 

“Yes master.” 

Marcus wipes his fingers across your lips, Lucius grabs your chin before licking a line across your lips now glistening with your arousal, swirling his tongue around your mouth cleaning the tangy sweetness from your skin. 

“She tastes good, doesn’t she soldier?”

“Yes master.”

“Now,” Marcus easily lifts you into his arms, his hands resting against your bottom, splaying your legs open, your arms instinctively reaching back to wrap around his neck. “Really taste her, lick her clean, shove your tongue into her cunt. Go on.”

Lucius kneels in front of you, your body lies like a ragdoll pliant and hung across Marcus’ body ready for the young soldier’s taking. His nose bumps against your clit as he penetrates you with his tongue, spiraling it around your hole. His blue eyes burn a hole into your soul, your body relaxes further into Marcus’ hold as he devours your pussy. The general’s deep voice coaches him, ordering him to suck your clit, pump his tongue in you harder, savor the taste of you soaking his mouth. Your whine echoes across the concrete walls of your domus, hands clutching Marcus’ soft curls as Lucius grinds his tongue against your clit pulling another orgasm up, your body convulsing in the general’s arms, his hard chestplate bruising your back as your pussy floods Lucius’ mouth. 

Marcus kisses your hair, gently laying you down against the soft linen of your rug. 

Two Roman soldiers stand in front of you, your body splayed and disheveled by your two orgasms and the promise of more to come.

“You’ve done well son,” Marcus pats Lucius on the back. “Look how her pussy is sparkling in this light, isn’t she the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen? Now, let us undress for her. She deserves it.”

You muster the strength to prop yourself up watching the two men unbuckle their armor, exposing golden chests, Marcus’ peppered with more scars, a burlier canvas that has seen more battles. Lucius’ body is more delicate, tight skin wrapped around bulging muscles. The general and the soldier, both now removing their skirts and unwrapping their subligaculum. Sun warmed and tanned skin, miles of tense muscles built up by war, battle, and training. Their half hard cocks lay heavy between thick thighs, your mouth waters at the thought of both of them filling your mouth and cunt. 

Marcus slides a chair into the middle of the floor. “Take a seat, soldier.” Lucius nods and settles on the wood. “You’re going to watch her take what she wants from me.” 

Marcus sits on the floor, settling his back against the wall. 

“Come here angel.” 

Crawling towards him on shaky legs, you’ve dreamt of this vision, his legs spread wide, cock standing tall, hard, and leaking�� waiting for you. The crease in his brow deepens, his focus beckoning you forward, now close enough to watch the flames of the fire flicker in the reflection of his dark brown eyes. He easily lifts you again, turning you to face Lucius, leaning your body against his before rubbing his cock along your sensitive cunt. 

A booming grunt swims through your ears as you slowly sink down on Marcus’ length, your eyes squeeze shut while your body slowly accepts him, you’re surrounded by him, his voice swimming in your ears, his hands gripping your hips, his chest slick with sweat supporting your knackered body, his cock stretching you wide open.

“Oh angel, you feel devine,” he smiles into your neck once you take him all in. “She feels so good soldier, show her how much you like watching her take my cock,” he growls.

“Yes master,” Lucius licks a line up his palm before wrapping his hand around himself, his body relaxing at his own touch. You lean forward, gripping your hands around Marcus’ well-muscled sturdy calves opening yourself up wider to his thrusts. Lucius strokes himself to the same pace of your pussy sliding up and down on his general, your eyes and his blue eyes locked in contact. 

Both men’s attention blooms inside of your chest, your heart quickening as Marcus pounds your pussy. The sound of his rising hips slapping against your ass meld with the noises of Lucius’ strokes flows through your ears like a beautiful song. Your mouth slacks open, garbled noises begin escaping your throat when Marcus circles a thick finger around your clit. Lucius twists at his head, pulling and biting his lip when he sees you come apart on his leader’s cock. Your orgasm decimates you, you feel like a lone enemy soldier, two two men leaving you defenseless and utterly devastated. Strength gives out, your shivering body collapses against Marcus’ legs. Lucius rushes over and gathers you, lifting you off of his leader, his eyes looking down at you concernedly, a weak, blissed out smile pulls at your lips. 

“She’s okay soldier, this is how you know you’re doing a good job. Feel how soft and pliant she is, how she’s molding to your arms?” Marcus rises, his cock still hard and throbbing as he sits on the chair. “Hold her, tell he she’s doing good. Let her rest a bit, there is still much for her… and you, to do tonight.” 

“You’re so good, so beautiful, I know why master calls you angel, you look like one.” 

You fight off the demons of exhaustion, staring up at Lucius’ strong jaw, rising to sit in his lap, his cock pressing against your ass as a reminder that there is still much work for you to do. Marcus’ lips form a smirk, his hands resting against thick thighs, cock still standing at attention. 

“Didn’t take long, did it angel?” Marcus leans forward slowly rising and sauntering over. He cradles his dick in his hands, tempting you while he squeezes along his shaft. “Hold her hair, soldier.”

Lucius gathers your hair in his hands, his movements are so delicate compared to Marcus’ brute force. They’re the perfect amalgamation of hard and soft. 

Marcus brings his cock to your lips, precum leaks from his tip on to your puckered lips, you welcome him into your mouth, opening wide for him to slide his shaft against your tongue. He tastes divine, salty and intoxicating. Your cheeks strain, mouth agape stuffing his fat cock in your mouth. The general only conquers what he knows he can take, and he knows he can take you for everything you have. He thrusts all of his power into you hitting the back of your mouth, leaving you gagging and streaming spit down your chin. Lucius gathers your hair in his fist, pulling against your scalp, you admire his bravery to also take what he wants, making it hurt a little for you. You want these men to use you, to deplete you, to fill you with their cum, you’ll wear it as a badge of honor, much like they do on their armor.

Marcus looks down at you, eyes filled with adoration, his cock fucking your mouth, spit still drooling out of the sides of your mouth, tears welling in your eyes. You feel like a mess but the way he smiles at you blooms something bright inside of you, your cheeks hollow around his girth, sucking him harder, hands planting against his ass pulling him even deeper inside the cavern of your mouth.

Marcus yanks himself out of your mouth, leaving you gasping and mourning the feeling of his cock. “If you continue, I’m going to cum down your throat, sweet girl, and I’m not ready yet.” He plops back down on the chair, throwing the back of his wrist against his forehead wiping the sweat off his brow, you want to taste his skin. 

Lucius lets go of your hair, his hands wrapping around your torso, pushing you back to rest against him, a sigh of contentment leaves your mouth. 

“Touch her soldier, tell me if she’s still wet and waiting.” 

Lucius trails his hand down to between your legs, swiping against your sensitive flesh, you moan at the contact. 

“So wet,” he whispers incredulously, “I think she’s ready, master.” 

“Good. Can you get on all fours, angel?”

You nod, leaning forward, your quick repose giving you the strength to support yourself. 

“Take her soldier, go ahead. Conquer her. Keep your eyes on me angel.” 

You grin wide towards Marcus as Lucius slides himself in you. He’s nothing like his general, whose large cock left you wide open for his subordinate. Lucius’ exhales cools the overheated skin on the back of your neck as he folds himself over you. 

His movements are slower, more reserved, he’s holding back. 

“Fuck me soldier,” you order, legs widening, hips bucking back towards him. 

“Good!” Marcus barks and claps his hands. “You heard her, take her, she wants all of you, take her soldier,” Marcus snarls. 

“Yes master,” Lucius croaks before spearing you with his cock, giving you the lucious friction you’ve been craving from him. 

Marcus kneels down, propping your head up in his hands. Your hands grip the edge of the rug, grounding yourself in the moment of bliss. Lucius’ taut thighs knock against yours with each thrust. Your whimpers are swallowed by Marcus, his lips pepper your face with kisses in between words of praise for taking his soldier so well. Your knees burn as Lucius grinds his hips against you, pulling himself fully out before sinking himself all the way in. Marcus gives you one last chaste kiss before replacing his lips against yours with his cock. Your moans vibrate against the soft skin of him, tasting what’s left of yourself and his precum. You’re so incredibly close, shattered by the two men’s cocks taking your mouth and your pussy for everything you have, gushing from both holes to satisfy the brave soldiers. Your eyes see stars as they roll back into your head, Marcus grips your hair as he fucks your face, your nose hitting the nest of curls as he slaps the back of your throat with his cock. ‘Use me, use me, use me,’ are the only words that rattle around your brain. Shockwaves soar through your body, your pussy clenches around Lucius’ cock milking him as he cums inside your pussy, his voice chanting your name against your skin. 

Marcus lets out a guttural growl pulling his cock from your mouth. 

“Sit down and hold her against your lap soldier,” Marcus snaps. 

Lucius perches himself on the floor, placing you on his lap, the both of you still coming down from your shared climax. 

Marcus rushes over, pumping himself to his peak, his eyes squinting, upper lip snarling as he shoots thick white ropes of cum across your face and tits. The three of you collectively pant for air, a shared overwhelming feeling of euphoria plants inside of your hearts. 

“Now, clean her up soldier,” Marcus commands, taking a seat on the chair and folding his arms across his chest. 

___

Part Two

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: I knew you were trouble // part two: would’ve could’ve should’ve

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_The Capitol's Dream girl was depressed. After Snow broke her heart and returned only to haunt her. It only takes an official marriage proposal on New Year's Day, an interview with Lucky Flickerman and a rebel bombing to completely break you, and make Snow realize there's a place for one last person to love for the rest of his life.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ 10k words fic ups, reader is depressed, blood, violence, angst, tears, drama, reader makes some cruel things, antidepressants, nothing wild but they have sex so mdni 18+ , Snow actually loves reader (well idk). I couldn't add anything about the games of Mags SORRY.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_main song for this is Would've Could've Should've, song added to my Coryo Copito's playlist. Also, listen to the 1 and memory lane!!!

♪ ♫ Coryo playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

____________________________________

Nights were longer now. You couldn't sleep. Nightmares of the games, how you contributed. The vivid image of the first time you saw Clemensia after the snake bite. Your mind made you recreate Sejanus being hanged in District 12. And finally, your mind also made you replay every moment you had with Coriolanus Snow since you met him at 17.

You wished you never asked to sit with him at lunch. You wished you never asked to see him again.

He would've been just another classmate. If the things that happened in the 10th Hunger Games were meant to be, at least you wouldn't have been involved.

It wouldn't have hurt you enough to feel so miserable in the present.

But this was as good as it was going to get.

You weren't the best driver, but since very few people had a car, you dared to take the one your chauffeur was meant to. It distracts you from staring at the window and overthinking.

Sometimes you wonder how it would've turned out if Snow won the prize without being a mentor, just like it was planned to happen. Would you have made a stop at his place? For him to get inside your car and kiss you good morning. Then drive to the University of the Capitol? Could've been fun.

But you made your way alone. Only listening to the music that played on the radio.

And you wondered what would've happened if Arachne was alive, Sejanus too, and Clemensia was fine to take classes in person. Would they have made fun of you and Snow entering University holding hands? Could've been sweet.

But again, you were alone. It's a cloudy day at The Capitol. Your long emerald green coat gets stuck with the car door. You roll your eyes, opening the damn door once again to set free the piece of fabric.

You started wearing high heels. It made you look taller and you loved the sound every time you stepped out of your home. Your mother had launched a new collection, and she loved seeing you wearing her creations.

For the record, you haven't seen Coriolanus Snow since the day you had your first counselor appointment. That was a month ago, and it was… great.

Actually, it wasn't, but yeah…

A lot of people greeted you, but none were your friends. You see, the University isn't very different compared to the Academy. The same architecture, and familiar faces that no longer wear the red uniform. And even so, you feel like a fish out of water.

Life isn't perfect. But you weren't ready to start your young adult days feeling so out of breath.

"Y/n!…" you turn to encounter Persephone. A sweet girl from the Academy.

"Persephone. Hi…" You do your best to smile. She was a classmate from the Academy. And she never was your friend but you always thought she was so sweet.

"How have you been? You're all over the news" For the first time in weeks you giggle, feeling a little blushed. The feeling of someone asking you how you were doing felt so good.

"I've had better days. But here we are… And you?" She tilts her head.

"I visited my grandma's lake house in District 4. It was so good. I heard you're in the science and law program" you nod. You also knew Persephone was on the law program.

"Yeah, you're in law too…."

"Is Coriolanus going to be there too?" You stop smiling.

In fact, you weren't sure. But probably he would also be in law. Tigris once said he wanted to pursue politics.

"I'm not sure… We-…we don't talk anymore" she gasped in shock.

"What? Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought you were…"

"No. But it's fine. He must be doing great…" you cut her off before she can ask more questions.

Your first class was okay. Until Snow walked in, wearing a perfect dark blue suit. His silly hair looked slightly longer than the last time you saw him, but still, nothing compared to his messy hair from months ago. You pretend you didn't see him, opting to keep writing something in your journal. But he had to stop beside you. There are some minutes of silence, but nothing would make you turn to knowledge of his presence.

"Can I sit with you?" His voice is colder again. You can notice through a little glimpse of a white rose decorating his suit. But you keep your eyes set on the page in front of you.

And you know you won't fail again.

"No."

He can feel the venom in your voice.

"I'm sitting here." He says after all.

You really don't have time to tear up on the first day of University. You want to stand up and leave, but you're so mature that you won't say anything else.

At least, for the rest of the class, he doesn't say anything else, but you know he occasionally turns to see you.

"Is it gonna be like this forever?" He asks when it's over. You dare to see him in the eyes, enchanting blue as always. But the young man in front of you isn't the boy you met. And yet, he still made your heart beat like he was the same who was once your lover.

"I don't have time for this. Have a nice day, Snow'' he looks as you leave the classroom. His hands shook, and that feeling of guilt assaulted him once again. You are the proof alive of all the pain he caused. So he needs to have you back on his side, so he can feel some humanity remaining in him after all the things he did months ago. Because he knows there's no good left on him, but he can't get rid of you like he did with Sejanus, Highbottom… and Lucy Gray.

You were meant for him. But he was so infatuated with the other girl. And Snow was aware that you deserve the best. You were his ally since day one. So having you by his side again… would seal his imaginary pact.

He looks at you and sees the girl that gave him the chance of his life. He promised his grandma'am you would be the girl he would give a home and a family.

But now, every time he asked Tigris how you were, she avoided giving details. grandma'am was growing suspicious that things weren't going great. Tigris had been a lot of times on your house and mother's shows. Your father would ask for Coriolanus but he didn't know all the things the young man did to his daughter.

So Tigris would say he was still serving as a peacekeeper. And you, you would say you haven't talked a lot with him.

Not anymore. Coriolanus would try every day. As he denied he loved you, he pretended he needed you as you were the one. Just that.

…

"Y/n y/l/n." Suddenly a peacekeeper comes to you.

"Yes?" You ask politely.

"Dr. Gaul demands your presence in her laboratory" you sigh. Of course, she would be the first to ask to see you.

It was the same laboratory. Only that now was near. The way to get there was slow, even peaceful. Maybe because the day was almost over.

The first thing you notice is how many empty water tanks are scattered.

"There you are, Ms. Y/l/n" she appears from the crystal stairs at the end of the room. Wearing a yellow set that made her eyes more bright. Her hair is the same. Looking as evil and cynic as always.

"Dr. Gaul" you greet. Stopping some feet away from her.

"A school new year means new planning ahead" You nod. Already hearing what she was about to say. Well, not entirely.

"The last games were a mess. Between the rebels and Mr. Snow's bright decisions. Our central ideas couldn't be fulfilled. However, I decided to give him another chance, there's so much potential in that boy" You don't know how to feel about that. So you just remain quiet.

"Speaking of the devil…" when you turned back, Snow was walking towards you and the woman near you. Immediately you avoided his eyes, knowing he was probably looking at your dress. The coat was long gone, leaving a soft and accentuating pink dress with long sleeves.

He knew it was inappropriate. But ever since he gained your trust and his feelings of attachment to you, he had a long time to accept he had a thing for your hips. The dress was extremely simple but looked elegant with some bright exotic earrings, and it was your body that created the most attractive shape he'd ever seen.

And soon, his view of you became sided.

"I believe I don't need to remind you of your actions from the last games, Mr. Snow," the woman said.

"It won't happen again." He answered with confidence.

"I know it won't happen again," Gaul says laughing. Making you wonder how much time she had been trying to get into the position she was now.

"This year, let's say you'll be under probation, Mr.Snow. On the other hand, Ms. y/l/n. Another year and another success from you" his eyes were on you again. Turned to his left without shame. And that's when Snow remembered since he came back from District 12 how smart you were. Without saying anything, even avoiding it, you knew he had cheated on the games. And probably, without talking to him anymore, you knew he wasn't a good man.

Only that…slowly, you were also turning into a bad woman.

"Those water creatures are fully developed. They're nothing compared to the snakes from last year. This new invention has marked a new era for us…" To be honest, you don't know how to feel about it. Everything related to the games made you remember your dear friend Sejanus Plinth. He would've hated this creation from you. But on the bright side, this was your future. These were the constant obstacles you would have if you were to achieve success.

"Dr. Gaul. An emergency message has been sent to y/n y/l/n" Immediately you turned confused looking at a new peacekeeper. When you look at your mentor, she nods, indicating to you that you're allowed to leave.

"Excuse me." As you walk away, another peacekeeper has a cable phone. One of the newest wireless ones. Red and shiny, silently beeping. You can hear Snow asking Dr. Gaul something, but the sound of your heels is loud enough to make it difficult to understand as you reach the phone

The peacekeeper hands the cable phone. You pick up, feeling your heart pounding.

"Hello?" The low breathing of your mother can be heard.

"Darling! Something bad happened…"

"What?" You ask. And you don't know but Snow is trying so hard to listen to your conversation.

"Our mines in District 12. Your father made a little trip there with some friends. The people caused a revolt. They bombed the mines." You frown, in shock. Already feeling anger building up in your chest.

"Is pa' okay?" She sighs, which stresses you more.

"Some burns. The peacekeepers saved him on time" Snow listens to Gaul but he literally has an ear on you and the other in the mentor.

"Is it too bad? Like… putting our wealth in danger?" You whisper the last sentence. Your mother is a proud woman. But in the privacy of her family, she allowed herself to be vulnerable.

"I don't know, darling. We still have the mines in District 1. But the ones on the 12 represented greater materials" There's no time to cry and you know it.

So after some soothing words to your mother, you hang up. And you're not thinking clearly. You just know you're angry, and convinced someone had to pay. If you started disliking District 12 after the last games, now it was getting personal.

When you go back to stand beside Snow. You hear Gaul explaining to him how most of the lessons would go. But as soon as she turns back to you, there's an idea that leaves your mouth before you can breathe or blink.

"I was about to say that we should change the arena of the games. Each year it should change, like the seasons. Wasting the opportunity to use the water mutts sounds like a waste of potential for the views. If we still want a spectacle like the one from last year." The woman analyses your words. And after some seconds of silence, she speaks.

At the same time, Snow can't comprehend how poisonous you sound. He knew the call enraged you, it must've been bad.

"Then I'll ask you to find some suggestions for the arena"

"And… I have some ideas for this year Reaping" the woman's evil smile grows. She knows she's turning two young adults into monsters.

"I can't wait till Summer of next year" Gaul giggles, then lets you go, commenting that the next day the actual lessons would begin.

You sigh once she leaves. Finally acknowledging what you just did. Dooming a bunch of kids to fight for their lives with those water monsters. You remember Sejanus. The way he screamed in anger when his tribute was punished for trying to escape.

You're also a monster.

Snow turns to your side, looking as if you have just been cut with something, and he's searching for the wound.

"Are you okay? What happened?" he asks worriedly, caressing your forearm.

"Your beloved district 12. That's what happened." You spit with venom, squirming away from him.

Your harshness takes all over the place as you move away from him.

…

It's New Year's Day. A bright morning, and you already have your first guest. Clemensia Dovecote.

She still wears turtlenecks. But the gloves are gone. You can't stop smiling after seeing her smile and laugh as she drinks tea on your patio.

"I can't believe it worked, y/n," she says changing the subject. The first dose you gave her was after the games, in late summer. And now, at the peak of winter, Clemensia looked amazing. The cracked and raspy yellowish skin she had, the bright yellow eyes that contrasted her dark brown irises, all of that was mostly gone.

"To be honest, me neither…" you admit smiling proudly. Her skin looked slightly covered in scales, but the texture was soft. Like a snake that shines with a new layer of skin. Her eyes were still a little yellow, but the white was coming back.

"How did you come up with it? The treatment and everything?" you gulp nervously, sipping at your tea. If you opened your mouth, there would be no turning back.

Clemmie knew Snow had cheated, she swore to keep quiet about it. She knew about his exile. But she didn't know everything.

Then you thought you owed nothing to Snow. He owed you a lot, and yet, the way he paid was… cruel.

The only thing you were not in your right to share was about… the boy he killed. And as you'd never know he killed many more, Clemmie wouldn't either.

"He chose her. The songbird" Clemensia's eyes widened, she left the cookie she was about to eat.

"No…" you nod, confirming your words.

"Yes. During the games… he sacrificed everything for her. When I confronted him, he said nothing. After he was exiled, he committed a bribe to ensure his service as a peacekeeper on the 12" you spit with hate. The pride you carried each day, had a big crack thanks to that man, and like broken porcelain, it would never be healed.

"But he only had eyes for you… The Christmas after you arrived here, I asked him out and he said he had eyes on someone else. I can't believe him…" you giggle, rolling your eyes.

"He only had eyes for my money and father's position. He had the chance to win the prize and got obsessed with winning something by himself. The girl was just the cherry on top" You quickly added more as you were about to reveal he was… poor. Not because of him, but for Tigris and her grandmother. Tigris would lose her job and your mother would likely turn her down. So no, you weren't as bad as Snow yet.

"After he left. I realized how much he traced the scar on my face. I simply started hating it. And sooner I dreamed I had it gone. So I thought… Why can't I make something for my dear Clemensia and myself at the same time?" The black haired inspected your face.

"Your scar…" she remembered your face back then. The long pink line across your face. Clemensia did once see Snow caressing your face, his thumb traced the line across your nose until it landed on your lips.

Not it was just a memory as your scar. It was gone. Your face is clean, shiny, and perfect. Too bad that just your face was able to get rid of the touch of Snow.

You can't tell her he asked you to marry him. That was embarrassing enough to say it out loud.

"That's now the boy I knew. He had always been a little cold but… he was good. Now… I just can't stand what he did to you. And while I'll thank you for the rest of my life, you helped with my condition. I will ever feel sorry that you came up with it from such pain" Maybe before the bite, Clemmie was a little narcissistic. And her ambition led her to lie and get bitten. But now, she was all about being thankful and seeking peace everywhere.

"It's okay, Clemmie. Even after all, with Sejanus gone, all of what happened last summer… I'm happy that I have you" she smiles, offering you a big hug.

"Yeah, you won't get rid of me next year" She was officially coming back to class at the University after the winter break was over. Now Snow wouldn't be able to sit next to you.

"I won't mind…" Suddenly your mother comes out from one of the many balconies of your house.

"Girls! The stylist is here!" She lets you and Clemmie know.

This year, the annual New Year's Day will be at your house. The patio where you had breakfast and tea with your friend was already decorated with long tables. Porcelain plates are perfectly accommodated with wine velvet bows decorating them.

Clemensia's father talks with you about the revolt in District 12 and the burns he got. After that… more peacekeepers were sent. And slowly… the whole territory was becoming marginalized.

You ignore it, you only have eyes for the dress writing you on the other side.

When you open the door of your room, there it is.

A golden dress. Shinny and full of sequined beats. With metallic gold puffy fabric resting on your lower half back and ending around your wrists. Bare shoulders style.

You feel bad for not asking Tigris to style you, but she was already busy.

"I... I can't believe this…" you gasp, touching the elegant fabric of the dress. Clemmie can't stop saying how beautiful the dress is.

"With red lipstick and burnt pink eyeshadows… it'll look fantastic," the stylist says to your mother, already visualizing the look.

…

The patio is full of people. Elegant bonfires make everyone warm. Most of the guests look at your dress as you greet them. The last guests were Tigris and her grandmother, you placed them both in a table full of fashion contacts of your mother.

Clemmie is talking with Festus, Persephone, and other classmates.

Everything goes well until you set your eyes on the garden's entrance and you spot Snow entering.

Your eyebrows immediately frown. The night had been peaceful. And ever since winter break started, you haven't heard of him.

Why did he have to come? Was it for his grandmother?. Doesn't matter, you don't want him in your house.

He spots you and knows you just turned angry. You grab him by the arm and pull him away.

"What are you doing here?" You ask annoyed.

"You invited Tigris and Grandma'am" he shrugs.

"Yes. Tigris and Grandma'am. Not Tigris, Grandma'am, and Coriolanus" For the first time in months, you say his name.

"I have to talk to your father," he admits. You are confused, but he won't say anything yet.

"You look lovely tonight" You ignore the praise in his voice. But he genuinely believes you look astronomically beautiful. Snow was trying to act confident, but deep down he was nervous.

And it worsened when your dad interfered.

"Coriolanus. I'm glad you made it on time. Just an hour away till the countdown" you turn to see your father, offering him a glass of champagne. Neither of you should be drinking yet. But the elite of The Capitol was allowed to break the rules a little.

"No, of course I couldn't. I was just saying how gorgeous y/n looks tonight" your father smiles. You knew your father was believing Snow, that he was a gentleman.

"My one and only child. Perfect as always…" your father answers, putting his arm around your shoulders.

"I would like to discuss something with you. In private…" your heart beats faster.

"Be my guest, boy…" he tells him to enter the party. And as they leave you feel nauseous.

…

There are twenty minutes left till New Year's Day. Your father hasn't come out with Coriolanus yet. You nervously want to chew your nails. But you do your best for Clemmie. It was her first public appearance since the summer.

You had been trained to satisfy The Capitol's expectations since you were a kid. You knew what you could and couldn't do.

But none had prepared you to hide your shock.

"Dear guests. Family and friends. I would like to give an announcement" Your father appears, the sound of the glass capturing everyone's attention.

"With a new year around the corner, changes are too."

It couldn't…

Snow walked through the tables, towards you.

No, no, no, no.

"It is my pleasure to announce the engagement between Coriolanus Snow and my only daughter, y/n"

You swear you can't breathe.

You don't see Clemmie's face of horror. Tigris is highly confused. Grandma'am at the verge of tears.

"For my darling and her fiancé. Whom I wish eternal luck and happiness" your father finishes the toast.

Snow is beside you, he's not happy either. But he is the first one to start acting for the sudden flashes and cheering.

"How couldn't you tell me you wanted to get married, dear?" Your father asks, being the first person to hug you.

Your shock is so big that you don't even remember smiling for the pictures. You don't remember feeling his hand around your shoulders. You don't remember bursting into the house.

Snow follows you. It's empty, everyone is cheering because the countdown is about to start.

He calls your name. But you don't listen. He follows you through the kitchen and living room.

"WHAT?" You explode before being able to go upstairs.

You see his desperate eyes.

"I didn't know your father was going to announce it that way." He notices your face is red from anger.

"Listen to me, Coriolanus Snow. NO MAN will come and take away the pride of the woman I am." You scream in his face. You won't go quiet like the first time.

"YOU WERE NOTHING!. YOU OWE ME YOUR LUCK!" Snow can only fix his eyes on the sequins of your dress. He had never seen you screaming like that. And nobody would hear anyway.

"If this was your way to make me surrender and get me back. You're so wrong. Because you are going to be in debt with me for the rest of your life. Unless you want a rebel wife like it was your beloved Lucy Gray Baird." His eyes widened at your sudden attack. He has to process every word, every disgusted face you are making. He hadn’t thought about the songbird in many days. Hearing her names sent chills to his spine.

"I wanted this to be different. I had to "You hate him. You can't stand seeing him in his perfect grey suit, his perfect hair and eyes. You really hate him.

"YOU HAD NOTHING!. IF YOU WERE GONNA HUMILIATE ME LIKE THAT, YOU HAD TO GET ON YOUR KNEES AND BEG TO MARRY ME!" Whisking away, he grabs your hand, and when you turn, you find him on his knees.

"Please…" you feel he placed the ring in your hand. And it's too much.

You slap him. And then run away to your room.

As you lock the door, you throw the ring. And when tears start streaming down like a waterfall, you hear the first fireworks.

There's a bottle of pills in your vanity. The treatment for your low mood. You only need it once in a day. But you take two hoping it would knock you out and make you forget about the night.

It's officially a new year.

…

Three weeks later, Lucky Flickerman is interviewing you and Snow in his late-night show. You can't stand how Snow is caressing your hand. The way he slightly giggles and smiles at you, whenever there is a silly question.

You only do this because nobody knows the truth. Just Clemensia and Tigris.

"Sources tell us that it'll be a spring wedding. Is that right, y/n?" The man asks. You sigh, smiling.

'We're not sure yet, Lucky. There are so many details. Especially with my dress. But my man here is patiently waiting" the interviewer laughs, throwing a sarcastic comment about the dress.

"And what about kids? Is a baby on the plans?" Immediately, both of you blush.

"Yes. We want to have kids one day" Snow hurries to answer. You want to laugh.

He would be a terrible father. Some days ago, he was at your house for a family gathering and while he liked seeing you with your baby cousins, he knew he wasn't good with them. He didn't know how to play or make them laugh. But he had to make everyone believe he was a man of family and marriage. Even when both of you were still nineteen.

"Oh. Well, you're still young. There's plenty of time, pair of lovebirds" You make the strength to turn and smile at Snow. He returns you the smile.

And he wants to believe it's an honest reaction from you. He really hates that everything happened this way. He wanted to wait personally and privately ask you to marry him again. Not like this.

"Y/n… How did you know Coriolanus was the one?" It takes you aback. You can't lie. There's a truth.

"When I met him, he made me feel comfortable. He was so sweet and he trusted me. He made it hard for me not to love him. He has these gorgeous ocean eyes, that every time I see him I get lost in them. It reminds me of the kind boy I met some time ago…" Everyone feels emotional. Coriolanus is aware of the real meaning behind your words, and he can't help but honestly smile. He knows he realized it, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it.

"These ladies and gentlemen… is a couple in love!" Lucky laughs and points at you and Snow excited. And he says that he'll be back with the broadcast for the weather, he thanks you and your fiancé for being there.

"Take care, guys. Don't forget to invite me to the wedding!, I'll get some people inside to bring the news anyways…"

And finally, both of you are behind the set. You don't even glance at Snow. But he hurries to stop you, interfering in your way.

"I'm sorry. For everything…" you cross your arms.

"No. You hate me. That's why you keep doing this to me…"

Your assistant appears handing you a glass of water and a little plate of something Snow can't see.

"Here's some water and your antidepressants, miss" You blush and ignore the way your fiancé is looking.

As you walk away, Coriolanus only feels worse.

…

You stare at the public library. Now closed just for your wedding happening in a couple of hours.

There are white roses everywhere. Petition of your mother to commemorate Snow and his family. You hated it.

It ended up being a spring wedding. But a very cold one. By early June, summer would start. And for now, snowflakes still fell upon The Capitol.

"The dress is ready…" Tigris says, appearing on your side. She sees how you stare at the whole place with dismay.

"How could this happen?" She asks, wondering.

"My younger self would've loved this day. But now… is different" You didn't want to insult her cousin.

"His younger self would've also loved this" Tigris remembered how enchanted was Coriolanus for you. Saying that he made a rich friend who was so sweet. Soon he admitted you were gorgeous and delicate. Now forgetting to mention you only when Grandma'am asked.

"He's trying to get you back," Tigris adds. And you question it.

Ever since the engagement. He always reached for you. Asking how you were. The kisses on the cheek to greet you. Felt honest. But you doubted you would ever forgive him. Even if you ended up having his children someday…

"I know it won't change anything. But I'm sorry. You didn't deserve this…" the young woman lamented. After you confessed most of the things Snow did to you, she added that to her list. And slowly, Tigris had slightly brushed aside her cousin.

"I didn't. But what's pissing me off is the wedding night" Tigris coughed awkwardly. And you rolled your eyes.

"No, Tigris. It's not about the sex. It's about me having to leave my house forever. I refuse…" She relaxed.

Honestly, you hadn't thought about sex. You knew it would happen anytime after marrying. But you wouldn't give Snow the satisfaction to even give hints.

At least, your father suggested Snow temporarily move in with you in your room since his new penthouse would be only for Tigris and grandmother. He would sleep in your tub.

"It's a great place for a honeymoon. Capitol's north is full of mountains, fancy restaurants, and actual snow" Somehow, you laugh.

"Fitting for my new legal name" Tigris joins you and laughs, hugging you tightly.

You stare at the flowers, and the hundreds of seats, and you aren't ready. But there's a smile on your face. Because at that point you don't even care.

…

Coriolanus was alone. He thinks Sejanus could've been there. Annoying and smiley as always, but he would've been the best man. Chosen by him because there wasn't another option. But it's only him. Staring at his mother's ring.

Pure gold, a medium size rectangle-shaped diamond. Shining ridiculously in white and small rainbows.

You look just like your father on his wedding day.

Your mother was so happy. Spinning and laughing as your father danced with her.

Remember. As you take a wife, you are choosing a life partner. You have to remember every morning why you chose her. You have to respect and protect her. Give her a home, a warm place to grow old together.

Y/n is the perfect woman for you. She's so lucky to have you, my boy.

All of those things, Grandma'am had said to him as she handed the ring.

And now sitting alone in a room. Suit ready, in black, and very little gold details in the white shirt under. Tigris said it was going to match your dress.

Your father actually loved your mother, Coriolanus. Treat her right. That is the least you could do…

She knew. Tigris had to know everything.

Coriolanus wondered how you would look. A princess-style dress? Maybe velvet? And he imagined your face.

That's when he can't take it anymore. He cries. Because everything was going to be a lie. He cries because it could've been true. If only he had made better decisions. If only you weren't so smart that you discovered him.

He's a broken man.

But he grips the ring on his palm. Wiping the tears and deciding that he's never going to fail you again. As he knew you had never failed him. And even when you hated him, neither you would.

…

There are three mirrors. Your hands trace the shiny beats of your dress. From the strips to your breasts, to your waist and hips. The end was full of them. Combining gold, and even dark brown or grey. It was simple, slightly sheer. But extremely elegant. Made with crystals from your family's mines. Representative of your native District 1. Your hair is down, perfectly cut in that shag haircut you had when you were a teen. It fits perfectly with your veil. Also covered in tiny pieces of crystals that cover your head, to the tail of the dress.

You looked like a Capitol's bride.

And for some reason, you can't find the tears. It's just you staring at the mirrors. Accepting your doomed life.

As you open the door, you know there are already tears on everyone but you.

Clemensia, Persephone, your mother, and Tigris sob and look at you in shock.

"Oh my god, my baby. You look perfect!" Your mother cries, caressing your cheeks and sobbing. You smile at her, just that.

They keep talking about the dress when you hear a knock followed by the door of the room opening.

"Is there any time for this old woman to see the bride?" Tigris smiles at her grandmother, inviting her to join.

"There's only ten minutes left. Everyone hurry!" Your mother says. They exaggerate, only Tigris gives you one last retouch, and hands you the bouquet. With white roses and some lilies scattered.

She kisses your cheek and smiles deeply.

"It's gonna be fine. I swear…" and with that, she leaves.

Grandma'am only looks at you with love. She always liked you for his grandson. And she believed love floated around you two. For the record, she said it two weeks ago in a rehearsal you had.

"I knew it from the first day my little Coriolanus came home rambling about you" she smiles.

"And from that day, it always had been you, my dear. Even today… always saying you are the love of his life" Your eyes water. Coriolanus wouldn't lie to his grandma about something like that. He could lie about killing someone but not about something he knew would make her happy.

"He did?" You ask as she takes your hand.

"Of course. I know I'm old, and I can't tell he has committed some errors. But I know those blue always are so in love with you, my child" That couldn't be.

"Do you love him?" You won't cry. But you're fighting the lump in your throat.

"I do. Ever since the first day…" you admit.

Maybe you would always resent the man you were going to marry. But you would always love the memory of the boy you once had.

"Promise me you will make him happy, dear. He has so little when we lost everything once. Take care of him. Give him a family, that's all I ask" You can't say no to her. You just can't.

"I promise." She hugs you. And you swallow the lump, looking at the door.

…

The moment had arrived. The doors opened, the music started and everyone turned back to see you entering by the hand of your father.

Sounds of shock, admiring, and more are very low but noticeable.

For Coriolanus, it's only you. Your hair was like when you met him. The dress is so perfect. Your makeup too. And he promises to keep the image of you in his mind for the rest of his life.

He genuinely smiles. And you are feeling so confused. Could his grandmother have been telling the truth?

Coriolanus actually loved you? The way he had been smiling and treating you for the past months. Had he really been feeling sorry?

Would you forgive him if that was the case?

You can't tell because your father has dropped you at the altar.

You didn't even feel his kiss on the head and promised good luck.

You just feel Snow taking your hand. It's warm, even soft for his calloused hands.

And you can't turn to see him.

There are many people taking pictures of you and him.

Everyone loved the Capitol's Dream Girl and her handsome wealthy fiancé ever since the engagement.

When you last expected it, you are officially Mrs. Snow.

"You may kiss the bride…" you know he's doubting. But there's no time, so you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him.

It takes him aback, but soon, his hands find that damn spot, in your hips. And it doesn't feel wrong, for some reason.

You just see him and you realize he's your man now.

Neither of you can understand the emotions flowing at the moment. You like seeing him smiling at you like that, but you also feel sad. And he loves the way you look, he feels so attached to you.

In other words, both feel like it was real. But both knew the truth.

You don't dare to eye any of your family or friends as you leave by the hand of your now husband.

…

The reception was just as big as the ceremony. With the most elegant music, food of all kinds, and a varied menu.

Your husband has chosen to give the option of fish florentine, mentioning to you that his uncle used to get the best food from District 4 before the war.

For you, it was fried steak with three types of cheese and coated with mushroom cream.

There's a picture for everyone. You and Snow enter the party. Your father says a little speech about how much of a great marriage you would have.

You dance with your baby cousins. Lucky Flickerman was able to ask about your dress and possible honeymoon location.

You ignore your husband for the rest of the night. Only when the cake has to be sliced. It's a 5 layer cake, covered in white and very little baby pink roses. Snow and you agreed to make it white chocolate with raspberries and cream.

He cleans some cream from your cheek, and before you can even think about it, you laugh.

He danced with you but you only decided to hear his heartbeats, instead of seeing him. It made you understand that lonely days were over. But at what cost?

…

That night, you are already seeing the mountains and green woods covered in white at the top. You sigh, looking at the metallic silk nightgown. You didn't want the traditional white or pink silk gown. This was short, offered some cleavage, it shined in orange and pink tones when it was supposed to be lavender.

During the whole hour trip to the residence of the honeymoon, you didn't say anything to him.

When you come out of the bathroom, he's sitting at the edge of the bed. A dark grey robe on him and you wonder if he was naked too.

Ignoring him, you go to the giant vanity in front of the bed.

You try to focus on the plenty of assignments you'll have after the honeymoon. With less than three months before the next games, your water mutts had already killed a person. Gaul only laughed and insisted on you to feed the beasts with the corpse.

Little did everyone know that on the Reaping day, District 12 people would receive a tiny stain of liquid Mercury on their ballot. Within months of inhaling that thing, they would be sick. It was your revenge for the revolt in the mines that almost killed your father.

But for now, you can only feel his eyes on you. Like the first day of school. You know he wants to touch you. He wants to claim you as his wife. But he doesn't have the right.

So he stays seated, hoping you will make the first move.

Ignoring the way your heart beats, wanting to feel something. Your heart was blind, thinking you could make love with Coriolanus.

Once you have finished with your facial cream. You turn off the light. Only the balcony offered some glimpses.

You step between his legs, hands on his shoulders. The smell of tobacco leaf and vanilla bean perfume hits him, making him gulp. Unsure whether to touch you or not.

"Wait, y/n… Are you-… Are you sure?" He asks, unsure of what is happening. He kind of thanked you for turning off the lights. That way you couldn't see how blushed he was. After all, this was going to be his first time. After actual years of desiring you, he gets to have you for the rest of his life.

Then you lean, inches away from his lips.

" I don't want to hear you" and you don't say more, neither does he. In the darkness, he finds your lips and there's plenty of time to kiss you slowly. With wet sounds, your hands fly to his hair. Making him moan for the first time. It shouldn't be turning you on. But it is, so you slightly move your head, and maybe he understood, 'cause he started kissing your jaw, soon your neck.

He feels you pulling out the nightgown, and it's making him so fucking hard.

You kiss him again and he's free to wander across your naked body. Now his…

It's his first time, just like it is yours. So when he tries to touch you past your lower belly, you guide him.

Softly making him slide his fingers across your wet folds. You moan and he thinks it's the most erotic thing he's ever heard in his life. He knows you are skilled even when it's also your first time. He knows because of your timing, the way you swayed your hips any time you walked, and the way you balanced touching him and moaning at the same time.

Before you, he rarely touched himself or thought about sex. But soon after kissing you for the first time, he would hate himself for thinking how you would look underneath the Academy uniform.

And now, there you were, naked, taking his virginity as you slowly rode him. You swear he has to be big enough to be able to feel him and his details inside you. The pacing was so soft yet hard. Soft because of your slick, hard because of the pleasure.

All you could hear was his sighs, but the stars of the night were your moans and little yelps for him. No words exchanged, just the sound of your desire and his response.

And when you start going faster, holding onto him as if your life depended on it, he was over the edge to say it. But he couldn't.

Your first time should've been with him on top. Tigris said it was traditional. But he let you take the lead, and it was turning out better. You even let him paint your walls with his cum. You let him kiss and suck your nipples as he felt the last spasms of his climax, prolonged by the way you squeezed him.

Even with the silence, both of you knew. It was the hardest and best orgasm of your life.

…

At the outsides of The Capitol, there's an office. All University students needed to submit their petition to graduate two years prior to the ceremony. Gaul demanded you and Snow to go as soon as you returned from the honeymoon.

Now, two months married, you feel slightly lighter. You talked a little bit more with him. Breakfasts were quiet but peaceful. At the University he always tried to protect you.

The news was all about the wedding. Saying it was the event that officially marked the end of the war. People loved you and encouraged your husband to pursue a political party to start campaigns, hoping to win the presidency. As for you, rumors had spread that you were going to be the next game maker of Panem. Evenings were to study and go for some walks. And most of the nights you repeated the same formula. Ending up tangled in your bed with the darkness reigning.

You couldn't help but wonder if something had changed.

Coriolanus Snow was still cold, serious, a man of few but harsh words. But to you, he seemed warm. Like if fucking him had made him switch and now he was eating out from the palm of your hand.

Still, you still felt like the past was haunting you. With memories of the last games and the moment you lost your lovely blonde guy.

"It's done," Snow says coming out of a private office. The green tiles stop being attractive to your eye, making you blink twice to stare at your husband.

He's yours, just like you wanted. With his perfect eyes, perfect smile, hair, body, and dream life.

You sigh with relief. He had insisted on submitting both papers to soothe you from stress.

"We are likely to receive a letter next year. The woman said it was basically approved for us…" you nod. He offers you a sweet smile, that you can't help but reply.

He offers you his arm to take, ready to leave the office.

Lately, Coriolanus has been worried for you. The antidepressant treatment was over, but you were under pressure because you had created the arena and strategies for the 11th Hunger Games. People debated your capacity and ideals. And he knew that would stress you.

He was patiently trying to make you feel comfortable on his side. To make you feel again like you said in the interview with Flickerman.

"Thank you." You say to him.

"Of course."

After taking the elevator, you two are ready to walk out. Until there's a loud explosion near. You exchange looks with your husband, and as he squeezes your hand tighter, what feels like another explosion makes you and Snow fly away.

When he opens his eyes, the building is literally on fire. He reacts quickly, realizing there has been another bombing.

He's okay, just his neck hurts, but there's no blood. It's you who's worrying him a lot.

He calls your name but you don't respond.

Through the ashes and hazes of dust, he looks out for you.

A few feet away, you are coughing, lying on the ground.

He runs and kneels beside you.

"Y/n, please. Can you hear me?" You nod slowly, barely moving.

"I-can't breathe…" Snow sees how your nose bleeds and there are some glasses making your arm shake a little. The sleeve of your cardigan is drenched in blood.

He panics and goes into a full panic attack. Not even when he was in the arena and got hurt. He truly feared losing you.

"I'm taking you out of here" he looks around and notices there's no one around.

He carries you, doing his best to run out of the increasing fire.

"I don't want to die, Coriolanus" you gasp, trying to breathe. He looks down at you, now looking at the dirt in your face.

"You won't die, love. Just calm down and breathe" In fact he knows you could die. But he refuses to accept it as he finds the exit of the building.

There's chaos on the streets.

And in the middle of the disaster, he starts asking for help.

"Please… I need an ambulance for my wife!" He pleads to some people who seem to be helping a group of kids.

A woman listens and calls for a man.

"Help is coming, y/n. Do not close your eyes" The rush in him impeded him from crying. Because he was so freaked out.

"Mr. Snow, I'm a doctor. I'll help your wife get into a hospital" A middle-aged man gets closer, inspecting your face. You can't hear anything. Your eyes close by themselves, and you still feel so out of breath.

It's the sound of the ambulance that works as a lullaby and makes you pass out.

…

It's uncertain. But reliable sources said it was a direct target from rebel allies, a direct target to you. Because the next game maker needed to be erased from Panem before she could even start. Snow is shockingly angered. And he adds another point to his hate for rebellion.

"I won't quit." You affirm from the hospital bed. Your mother frowns.

"I don't think you're understanding the seriousness of this situation, y/n" she suggests, to which your father also nods.

The door opens and Coriolanus enters, hurried to inspect you.

"Are you Okay? The doctor said it wasn't that bad but-" you smile, caressing his shoulder.

"I'm fine. Just inhaled too much smoke. And my arm, but that's it" You show him your left arm covered in gazes.

He kisses your forehead.

"I was so afraid," he whispers in your ear.

And maybe it was all about your emotions after the shocking day. But you finally feel it. You love him. And the way he had acted since the engagement made you believe he could possibly feel the same. But you aren't sure.

"I won't quit. That would only give the rebels a point. I will make this games memorable. And nobody in Panem will ever question my methods" Your words shouldn't have made your husband proud. But it does.

"You're so right, dear," he says, making you smile nervously.

…

You are allowed to leave the hospital that night. And the whole ride, you have to fight the tears. You can't take it anymore.

As soon as you get inside your room. Coriolanus starts running the tub to clean you up.

You get on your knees. Your throat already feels as if you were choking. He spots you on your carpet, looking so vague and lost.

"Please, Coriolanus." He's watching you carefully. And by your face, he feels you are about to say something from the bottom of your heart.

"What? Are you in pain?" He asks scared, kneeling in front of you. You don't answer and that terrifies him. Until you do.

"Tell me you are in love with me. Just once, doesn't matter if you never say it again for the rest of my life. If you mean it, say you love me." Tears start flowing, your face turns red, and Coriolanus can't help but feel vulnerable by seeing like that.

"Because if you say you only insisted on marrying me because of the money, and my father's position… I'm gonna hate you till the day I die. For all you did to me and everything that could've been" he has to close his eyes. To not see you as a tear falls without a warning from his left eye. He has to decide. Is he going to break his promise? He said he couldn't love anyone again. But you weren't new. You were the first. She was the last.

Coriolanus wished to be your boyfriend soon after meeting you. And from waiting for the right moment to ask, he ended up ruining everything for his ambition. From believing she was different, that she was worth it. Ignoring all the pain he caused to you.

And until that moment he realized he had almost obligated you to marry him.

He already had what he wanted. The money and his power were growing, and he had the girl.

Crying on her knees in front of him. Asking him to end her pain. Just by loving her after all the pain he caused her.

Slowly, he reaches for your face. Your sobs became almost silent. Your heart was beating so fast. And if Coriolanus didn't speak now, you would end up having a second mental breakdown.

But he caressed your cheeks. And he traced your face. Where your scar should've been. New waves of tears fall as you feel what he's doing. Only making shut your eyes harder.

"Look at me, y/n" you can't. You're not ready to hear him saying he used you once again.

"I can't." You whisper, sobbing. He decided then to grab you by the waist. Being so gentle, made you feel like two years ago when he was still your lover.

He placed you carefully on the bed. Making you hide your face against the pillows, ruining the white satin with your makeup.

He doesn't care. He just wants to be honest. Real. He's still young. Coriolanus knows he can't live the rest of his life married to you, making you believe he never loved you.

Only you would be able to see who he really was. Even if he ended up having children with you someday. He would never love them like you.

He could be cold and his decisions would be considered cruel. But the only person on earth that would judge him was going to be you.

"Please look at me, y/n" he caresses your cheek, smiling softly. Slowly, you sit, facing him finally.

You can see your old and sweet Coriolanus with the smile he's giving you. And it only makes you cry and cry again.

"I love you."

You stop. Hiccuping, you look perplexed at him.

He's still smiling.

You know he killed two people, probably three.

You'd never know he sent Sejanus to be hanged.

You know he's not the best person.

You'd never know he had a letter he was going to send to you before going to District 12.

You know he caused you so much pain.

And yet you thought you'd never hear him saying those three words.

"I made you suffer. I ruined everything. You know what I did just by looking at my eyes. How can we love each other after all?" You shrug. Trying to control yourself and answer him properly.

"Maybe because we never got the chance to make it real." He chuckles, taking your hand.

"You know I also did cruel things this year." He nodded, having no right to judge you. He wondered if you did all of that from rage, for everything that happened.

"And I still believe you deserve the world, Capitol's dream girl…" he makes you laugh. Out of embarrassment from the silly nickname Flickerman gave you.

"My father was a bad man, and yet, he always treated my mom right. I can't promise I'll be perfect, but I will never hurt you again" You brush his hair. Dishevelling it in the process, making him look like a year ago.

"Promise me. Just you and I, getting each other's back" he says. And you know you'll go to hell for being with him. But he was the love of your life.

"Just you and I, my love" he smiles again.

"I'll make you First Lady of Panem one day. It'll fit better for your current nickname" you roll your eyes.

"What will we do with that much power?" He stares deeply into your eyes. You changed his hair, and he hoped he could still see the scar on your face. But it was gone. Just like the girl he met two years ago. So was the boy he was. But it was okay. Because he'd make you be like him. And nothing would matter more than you and him.

"Everything, dear" you smile. And feeling like teenagers again, both lean at the same time to kiss. Like it was the first time.

"Can I?…" he asks on your lips. You nod, hugging from his neck.

He kisses you finally. Soft, slow but demanding.

And you remember you made it. Your husband would have the power, but you just won control.

And for the next two weeks, during summer break, Coriolanus and you spent your days in District 1. Spending the days eating in the best restaurants, visiting museums, and swimming in private pools. Spending the nights exploring each other for the first time. He marked you his and you marked him yours. Watching the moon and forgetting about the university, moving into a new house, letting the past die.

Maybe the memory of Lucy Gray Baird would haunt Coriolanus for the rest of his life, but you were going to be there to turn it into haze. And maybe you would never forget the pain of losing thanks to him, but he would paint your days golden. He would be a good husband who would make it up each day.

…

The first day of your second year of University started differently. Coriolanus refused to learn to drive and refused to let you do it. But you convinced him it was okay.

You left home together. And arrived together on campus. Went through the stairs holding hands.

"Look, it's The Capitol's trendiest couple" Persephone, an old classmate from the Academy but also a new friend said. Festus, Clemmie, and other new friends were there, laughing and making fun of you and Coriolanus.

And you blushed. Abruptly stopping your steps. Your husband turned to see you.

"Everything is fine?" You nod, smiling.

"I just… This is exactly how I wanted to begin University last year" It made his heart clench.

"Only… he's missing it" Like a needle taking him aback, Coriolanus knew what you meant.

"He'd hate what we have become though" It's bad, but you laugh.

"You're right, dear" you agree with your husband.

"But happy for us…" he adds, and you nod. Grabbing his arm to finally enter the building.

Soon, two peacekeepers call you to Gaul's office, just like last year. She's not there. But there's a letter on her desk.

You exchange looks with Coriolanus. He tilts his head and follows you to the desk. Carefully, he grabs the envelope and opens it.

Students, as the summer ends, I hope you had a pleasant summer.

Congratulations on your success after the games, Mr and Mrs. Snow.

Given the circumstances of Dean Highbottom's death last year, I won't be able to begin with the preparation for the 12th Hunger Games.

I believe you two have gained enough knowledge to start without me.

You'll find materials in the backroom of my principal laboratory. You'll find it quite interesting.

Make me proud and you two will be the first and automatic option to replace me in a couple of years.

And keep in mind what I always ask. What are the games for?

Dr. Volumnia Gaul

No words are exchanged after reading the letter. Coriolanus only nods to you, agreeing to the message.

So you go to the principal laboratory. It's clean and the sound of different animals is the only sound inside.

There are two long tables, and it's obvious, that there are at least six corpses covered in white blankets.

When you pull away the blanket, you gasp in shock.

The corpses that were once humans now seemed a mix of animals.

Until you see what it is.

"Coryo. These are the corpses of the death tributes" You are shocked. He was also surprised.

"The mutt bite… transformed them?" Slowly, you nod. He hands you some gloves and a face mask

"Every year I end up creating something more vile" you admit touching the slimy skin of the corpses, turning dark and the human face blemished. Only a girl from District 4 had won Mags. A lot of people loved her. But the cheer wasn't very loud, thank you and your marriage.

"These were also the people who probably agreed on the bombs. They hate us, y/n" he's right.

"They need a yearly reminder that war is over. That we won and that you won't give up" You turn to face him. There's the anger and hate you disliked about him. But now you have plenty of reasons to agree with him.

"They deserve this."

"You're right"

He sees you making some tests to study the altered DNA and smiles. He was so fucked up.

"Don't stare, silly. Come here and help me. There's a lot to do" you say playfully. So he smirks mockingly and starts helping you.

"Maybe we could have some resting after this" he suggests, you laugh.

"Here? With deformed corpses? I don't think so, dear"

"Not here. We can go to the private ladies' room." Sometimes you made fun of him for having the kind of a pervert teenager. Ever since you decided to make up with him, Coriolanus and you were the biggest switching couple in the history of sex.

"Oh, my goodness. Can you behave for once, Mr. Snow?" You ignore him, sealing some glass containers with pieces of skin, fluids, and more from the corpses.

"You know what? Forget it. We haven't done it in the upper living room, or the library. Yeah, I can wait." Brushing past him, you laugh.

"I swear I will turn you into a mutt if you don't shut up, Coryo" both of you laugh. And Coriolanus feels happy. He thinks he has your back. He finally won.

He won the money, the fame, and the power was growing. And he won the girl.

…

It was already dark when you were done doing the practices at the University. Coriolanus helps you with your coat and bag as you make your way to the car.

"After you, dear" he indicates that you should sit first. So you do, and after you start the car, you turn to see him.

He has rebellious hair hanging on his forehead. He lets you brush his hair and smiles, relaxing after a long day.

There's time to catch your lips and kiss you deeply. Hands on your hips as usual and yours tangled in his hair. Even after brushing it.

"Do you think she'll notice?" He asks agitated, breathing unevenly. You giggle, fixing your dark purple lipstick through the mirror of the car.

"She gave us six bodies, but seven doesn't make much difference. Right?" He smiles too, even giggling a bit.

"I can't wait to take a shower," he admits.

"I can't wait for you to take me to bed after shower" Before you make it outside of campus, he kisses you again, squeezing your inner thigh, almost making you moan.

"Me neither…"

___________________________

Taglist: @sarnbarnes @user0440822 @poppyflower-22 @h-l-vlovesvintage @zxrcle @gloryekaterina @dakotali @especiallythewomenandthechildren @mymadokamagica @drvnkn-dazed

In my head… this was the wedding dress<3

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Divus Crewel - Rich Fur Coat Vignette

"A full course of disciplinary action"

[Sage‘s Island – Foothill Town]

Sage’s Island Resident: Good morning, Divus-san. You're up pretty early again.

Crewel: Good morning, madam.

Crewel: Also… Good morning, Emma!

Crewel: Your cute spots look so good on you, as always. I am truly lucky to be able to meet with such a stunning beauty so early in the day.

Crewel: …Can I give you some pets, you sweet thing?

Emma: Bark, bark!

Sage’s Island Resident: Fufufu, you're always so doting on our Emma, thank you. Look, she's so happy she's showing her belly.

Crewel: No, I should be thanking you. These fleeting moments I get in the morning are my personal solace.

Crewel: I'm grateful that I am able to see and pet these beautiful little lads and lasses.

Crewel: Especially since I'm unable to see my precious ones until I return to the Queendom of Roses on the weekends.

Sage’s Island Resident: If I recall, you have two friends looking after your dogs back home during the week, right?

Crewel: That's right. They're old friends… Or rather, they've become more like hired hands.

Crewel: I would love nothing more than to bring my dogs to Sage's Island…

Crewel: But my apartment here in Foothill Town is much too small to keep them.

Crewel: Sometime in the future, it would be nice to rent a large home here in this town and live with them together every single day.

Crewel: I'd drive with them in my favorite car on the long road along the ocean… That's the dream.

Sage’s Island Resident: Well, how lovely. I'm looking forward to the day that I'll be able to meet your precious dogs, Divus-san.

Crewel: And I as well, madam. I hope you have another pleasant day today. Bye, Emma.

Crewel: Good morning, my good sir. A strong cup of tea, as per my usual.

Shopkeep: Good morning, Crewel-kun. Would you like some food with that?

Crewel: No, thank you. I don't eat breakfast, as a rule.

Shopkeep: Yes, yes, I know. I thought I'd just ask.

Shopkeep: I can't believe you come to my little establishment so early in the morning just to drink tea instead of our signature coffee blend…

Shopkeep: You're still an odd one, even after becoming a professor at Night Raven College.

Crewel: Hah. Truth be told, I don't come here for the tea.

Crewel: Every Monday morning, if I sit in this seat here, I can watch the ships sail into port. The sight of the sails in a row is beautiful…

Crewel: This tea doesn't even compare to the stuff I can brew, but this view is something I can't replicate back home.

Shopkeep: Hahah! I always knew you were a sharp-tongued devil in your student years, but it seems you've just gotten even more cruel!

Crewel: I think it's more of a shock that you haven't improved your tea brewing skills in 15 years, sir.

Shopkeep: Well, luckily, we're still thriving! Do enjoy your time here.

Crewel: Thanks. …Hm. This respite is quiet and soothing.

Crewel: I should relax while I can. …Because I'm sure today will end up being yet another busy day.

Crewel: Today, I have homeroom plus three other classes. There's also preparations that need to be done for next month's event, a staff meeting, and last week's tests that need grading… Whew.

Crewel: Well. I'll just have to hope those pups won't cause me any issues, at a minimum.

[Laboratory]

Crewel: STAY!!!

Students: EEK!

Crewel: I can't believe this… What have you done?

Crewel: Why are all the ingredients needed for today's experiment scattered all over the floor?

Crewel: Which one of you mangy mutts not only stepped on but also mixed together all those spilled ingredients?

Crewel: I am only asking a simple question, and yet all anyone can yelp is "It wasn't me," or "It was someone else's fault"...

Crewel: PUPS WHO CAN'T OWN UP TO THEIR MISTAKES ARE NO BETTER THAN A MUTT! THEY DON'T EVEN DESERVE TO BE CALLED DOGS!

Students: EEEEP!

Crewel: So tell me, who is the culprit? Tell me truthfully, and you'll only have to deal with a full course of disciplinary action and not a bit more.

Students: Th-That is…

Students: [everyone stares]

Grim: Hm?

Grim: …Wh-Wh-Wh-What? Don't all you be lookin' down on me!

1. I think it'd be better if you just apologize honestly… 2. You'll get a lighter punishment if you just confess now.

Grim: It wasn't me who did that! It's [Yuu], definitely [Yuu]!

Scarabia Student: Don't try to blame [Yuu]. You really don't know how to give up, huh, Grim!

Octavinelle Student: Yeah, you were the one who flipped the table in the first place! There's no way I'm gonna let you take us down with you!

Grim: Heh! Do ya even got any proof that I did it?

Crewel: I see. It definitely won't do to accuse someone of the crime without proper evidence.

Crewel: …By the way, Grim.

Grim: Hm?

Crewel: The fur on your legs have turned black, but why is that? It looks just like that of a black cat.

Grim: Huh? My legs?

Grim: …Woah, you're right! My amazing grey fur's pitch black!

Grim: WH-WHAT'S WITH THIS!? GET RID OF IT FOR MEEE!

Crewel: There's no point in wiping it. The sap from the tree we were to use today turns black upon exposure to air.

Crewel: If it were to touch on your clothes or hair, it wouldn't matter how much you scrub or wash with water, it won't come off.

Crewel: incidentally, to return the blackened part to normal, the fastest method would be to cause another reaction to render it colorless.

Crewel: Look! Everyone see here.

Crewel: When I pour this concoction of herbs onto Grim's blackened legs…

Crewel: See, it returned back to its normal color. Make sure you remember this reaction.

Students: Oooooh.

Crewel: …Now, Grim. Do you have any idea why the ingredients we were to use for today's experiments got on your legs?

Grim: M-M… MYAAAH!

Grim: It ain't my fault! The desk shouldn't've been there!

Crewel: YOU MONGREL! YOU ARE TO STAY AFTER CLASS AND COPY LINES AS PUNISHMENT. UNDERSTAND!?

Crewel: And [Yuu], you're to also stay behind, as Grim's prefect. It would be troublesome if you cannot even look after your own pet!

1. But I have plans after class…

Crewel: Oho, you have plans that take priority over my prescribed discipline? [Yuu shakes their head] …No? A good response from a good boy.

2. I'm sorry…

Crewel: If you truly are sorry, then lets see that as a tangible result. If you can make Grim learn to sit and stay properly as his prefect, then I'll give you a treat.

Crewel: These pups truly are a handful… My beloved pet dogs are much more well behaved.

Crewel: Everyone, sit!

[Crewel magics the ingredients]

Grim: All the stuff I dropped are just floating back on top of the desk. So why's he gotta get on me when he can just fix everything…?

Crewel: The ingredients have been properly prepared once again. I will now explain the procedure for this experiment, so make sure you watch carefully.

Crewel: …I expect all of you to be on your best behavior.

Grim: Urp. He's just glaring at me, now…

[Interior Hallway]

Crewel: Ah, classes are finally over. Today was another tiring day.

Crewel: None of the freshmen listen and the sophomores slack off now that they've gotten used to the classes. And the juniors are teeming with arrogance.

Crewel: If I were a student, I would absolutely have literally knocked some sense into them...

Crewel: However, because of my position, I cannot do that now. I never even thought that I would be more inconvenienced as a professor, than I was as a student.

Crewel: Tch! I knew what I was in for, but still, I hadn't expected being an instructor to be this difficult.

???: And why are you clicking your tongue like that, Crewel-sensei?

Trein: As a professor of this school, I would prefer if you were to carry yourself better, so as to be a good example towards the students.

Crewel: Ugh… And now on top of everything else, someone even fussier has shown up…

Trein: What is with that disgruntled look? Do you take some issue with me?

Crewel: Of course not, don't be absurd! I would never bite back at any commentary you have for me, Trein-sensei.

Trein: Good. We should start to head towards the staff meeting, then.

Trein: Incidentally, you seemed to look rather exhausted a moment ago. Did something happen?

Crewel: No, I wouldn't say there was anything in particular…

Crewel: …I was only thinking of how I could effectively train the students. There are more than a fair share of unruly pups.

Trein: Do you of all people have any right to say that…? Especially since you were one of the rowdiest students during your time here.

Crewel: That was simply youthful ardor. Wasn't I just a charming little thing?

Trein: Don't write it off as simple "youthful ardor." Have a little shame.

Trein: …Well, I suppose it hasn't been too long since you've become a professor, in the end. This year makes… how long?

Crewel: Six years. Have you forgotten our joyous reunion already?

Trein: Hmph. Of course I remember your scowling little, "Oh, professor, were you still here?"

Trein: But only six years, I see… Well, why don't you pat yourself on the back for doing as well as you are for such a short tenure?

Crewel: I'm doing well? …Do you truly think so?

Trein: It is a fact that the rate of students pursuing the sciences have increased since you've arrived. There would be no purpose in denying that your instruction is showing good results.

Crewel: Heh… Heheh, is that right?! Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that coming from you.

Trein: And there you go getting carried away and speaking without any forethought. I do believe I've taught you countless times since your time here as a student to respect your elders, haven't I?

Trein: …Now then, if you're feeling better about yourself, we should get this staff meeting underway. I am keeping Lucius waiting.

[Trein walks off]

Crewel: …How insensitive of you, Trein-sensei.

Crewel: Here I am, patiently enduring everything until I can finally go see my dogs over the weekend, and you say that.

[Alchemy Workshop]

Crewel: Now that the meeting is done with, I should try to finish grading the tests while I can.

Crewel: …The rate of students pursuing the sciences, hm. I suppose it's true that everyone's grades are improving, even if at a slow pace. …A truly slow pace.

Crewel: Heh. I do enjoy seeing these pups grow.

[knock, knock, click]

Grim: Hey! I went 'n did that assignment for ya!

Crewel: What is it that you've done for me...?

1. I'll have him try that again. 2. He just misspoke!

Grim: I-I mean, I finished the assignment ya gave me. I'll put it here on the desk, 'kay?

Grim: …Hm? There's a book with a fancy cover mixed in with all these boring lookin' books. What's this?

Crewel: Oh, did that catch your eye? That book contains the collection of an apparel brand I worked for in the past.

Crewel: I keep telling them to not send anything to my office, but are some who just refuse to listen…

Crewel: Not only do I receive their catalogs, but also phone calls, all asking for my advice for the next fashion season.

Crewel: …It's just like your tests, don't you think? I'll have to fix their mistakes later to the best of my abilities.

Grim: Urgh, that sounds annoying. Why don'tcha just ignore 'em?

Crewel: Ignore them… Hahah, that's one idea. I can imagine their panicked and frantic faces.

Crewel: …But no, I do consider this somewhat of a hobby for me.

Crewel: Just because I've become a professor, that does not mean I can fall behind the current fashion. I want to constantly be checking the latest trends.

Crewel: I'm sure even you'd prefer a fashionably cool instructor over some decrepit, antiquated teacher, right?

1. I want a cool teacher.

Crewel: Right? You're quite a lucky one on that account, pup, because you have me as your homeroom teacher!

2. I want a nice teacher.

Crewel: You'll get bored if they're just nice all the time, you know. You might understand what I mean when you get a bit older.

Grim: I don't really get all that hard fashion stuff, but I totally wanna look cooler!

Crewel: Well, I'll consider that good enough for now. Don't you worry, I'll make sure to turn you into polished gems before graduation.

Crewel: You students here at Night Raven College may have a knack for magic, but your fashion senses are severely lacking.

Crewel: …And since I've taken on the duties of being your teacher, I won't allow that to continue.

Crewel: When I first started here, I vowed that I would craft every single one of you into the most fashionable and capable mages you can be.

Crewel: You have a first-class instructor, and first-rate instruction. …It would be impossible for you all to not become fantastic mages.

Grim: Heh. I'm totally gonna become a great mage even without your help!

Crewel: Hahah, you're a cheeky one. …Now then, if you've finished your task, go on. Looks like your friends have arrived to walk you out.

Crewel: Your time as a student may seem long, but it is deceptively short. I will do what I can to support all of you so that you can live your life here without any regrets.

Requested by @revengeofreaper32.

[luxaofhesperides]

Dancing in the rain ; requested by @wandixx!

He hadn’t been expecting the Signal to chase after him. It is, after all, well after midnight, and he had seen the vigilante out earlier during the day. 

Maybe the Bats are understaffed tonight, he muses as he leaps over the rooftops, a wild grin on his face. Being on the other side of a chase is a lot of fun, he’s discovering. He can see why Selina enjoys it so much.

Though, it probably has to do more with who’s chasing her than it is the chase itself.

But Danny’s become a bit of an adrenaline junkie after a few years of being a hero, fighting ghosts and governments. He’s not a hero anymore, especially not in Gotham, but being Catwoman’s partner in crime is way more fun than being responsible for everyone’s safety.

It’s like he’s doing anything bad, either. Selina can steal whatever she wants; if they couldn’t protect things against her, then should they really have it? Danny doesn’t focus on jewelry or gems. No, he takes ghost artifacts or items contaminated with ectoplasm back to the realms where they won’t cause problems to any humans. There are enough ecto-contaminated people in this world, solely from Amity Park. Best not to let that number grow.

So here he is, leaping over rain-slicked rooftops and only using a little bit of flying to keep ahead, holding a cursed pocket watch that a ghost had requested he return to them, with the Signal chasing after him, disappearing into shadows and popping up unexpectedly. 

“Stray! Get back here!” Signal yells, and Danny takes a moment to spin on his heel to face the vigilante to stick his tongue out at him, then backflips away.

“I didn’t even steal anything important!” he returns, tossing the pocketwatch in the air ahead, then jumps up to catch it and scales his way up to the roof of the next building. 

“Seriously,” Signal says, suddenly in front of him. “Stop running and we can talk this out.”

“Woah!” Danny tries to get around him, trips over his own feet, and crashes into the Signal’s chest. 

“Careful, there.” He looks up to see the Signal’s smile, and he absolutely can not be blamed for having his half dead heart skip a beat. He’s in the arms of a hero who’s smiling at him so sweetly, what’s a guy to do? “Ready to talk now?”

Danny goes intangible for a moment, smoothly sliding out of the Signa’s grip. “Nope,” he grins, starting up the chase once again.

The rain isn’t very strong, and the drops feel cool against his face as he runs, getting a little more air with each jump as he uses more of his flight to keep ahead. He can hear the Signal chasing after him again, heavy footsteps that start and stop unpredictably as he travels between shadows. 

Just to be safe, Danny stashes the pocket watch inside his chest, leaving his hands free to grab onto the rough brick of the walls and scale them up, aiming to go higher and higher. Maybe if he finds a good building, he can dramatically fall off the edge and fly away invisibly. 

“Got you!” 

The Signal pops up out of the wall and grabs Danny, who yelps and tries to pull his arms away. The Signal is too strong, and his tight grip on Danny’s wrists is warm against the chill of the rain. 

They stand there for a moment, just staring at each other as they try to catch their breath. And then, “Is that any way to treat a guy?” Danny jokes, trying one last time to pull his wrists free.

“It is when it’s you,” the Signal replies. “Man, you sure know how to run.”

“I’ll be sure to put that on my resume for my next heist.”

“Seriously, can we talk?”

Danny eyes him curiously. The other Bats mostly tried to take back whatever it is he’d stolen that night, occasionally trying to get information from him. None of them had outright asked to have a chat with him. The Signal at least has some manners, compared to the rest of him. There’s no harm in sticking around for one conversation.

It helps that the Signal is cute, especially when he had saved Danny a few weeks ago. 

Sue him, he’s a bit soft on the Signal. Wouldn’t anyone be with their favorite hero?

“Alright,” Danny says, relaxing. “Go ahead. Talk.”

“Great! Okay, um.” The Signal bites his lip and Danny should really look away, but his eyes are fixed to his mouth. He doesn’t speak for a solid minute, during which Danny really begins to feel the chill of the rain. “Can I get less comments from the peanut gallery?” he says suddenly.

“What?” Danny laughs, confused.

The Signal sighs. “My comms are on. The others are being annoying. If they wanted to ask you questions, they should have caught you first.”

“Oh, protecting me from the big bad Bats? My hero,” Danny says sweetly, pretending to swoon. Except, the Signal follows his movements, releasing his wrists to catch him by the waist, holding him steady. Danny’s breath hitches, and from how close they are, he has no doubt that the Signal heard it. They freeze for a moment, then the Signal dips him like some fainting Victorian maiden.

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind sweeping you up in my arms.” The smirk on his face only lasts a moment before he grimace and says, “I shouldn’t have said that on open comms. Man, they’re annoying. It’s not my fault I know how to flirt.”

Danny…

Well. Danny short circuits for a moment, running the words over his mind again, then blushes so hard he’s sure there’s steam coming off his cheeks. “You’re flirting?” he squeaks. “With me?”

“Flirting,” a new voice confirms, making them both jump, stumbling against each other as Black Bat hops down onto their rooftop. “Both shy and silly. I’m better.”

“You can’t even ask out Spoiler,” the Signal retaliates.

“She can’t even WHAT?” Spoiler yells as she also vaults herself over the alley below to join them. “You want to ask me out?”

Though she doesn’t say anything, Danny can practically feel Black Bat’s glare through her mask. The Signal winces, then says, “Oops.”

“Man, you can keep yourself busy, clearly Sig doesn’t need backup,” Spoiler says. “I need to go on a date with Black Bat. The rest of you suckers are on your own!” And then she grabs Black Bat’s hand and grapples away.

There’s a beat of silence, then Danny and the Signal share a glance and start laughing. 

“Well,” Danny says, “Good for them! Good for them.”

“They’re probably just going to Bat Burger.”

“And are you going to be treating me to a burger any time soon? I should be compensated for this conversation, you know.”

“Please, if I was taking you out on a date, it wouldn’t be to Bat Burger. I’d take you out dancing.”

It sounds like a date his dad would take his mom on. It sounds nice. Danny smiles and leans in closer to the Signal, taking hold of one of his hands. With the other, he puts Signal’s hand on his waist, then brings his own up to the Signal’s shoulder. 

“Why not dance with me now?”

Danny leads them in a few clumsy turns of a waltz, silently thanking Sam for forcing him to take a few ballroom dance lessons with her. The Signal seems a little dazed, following his lead, and when he lightly squeezes Danny’s waist, he shivers. 

Catwoman should be done with Batman soon. They had agreed to meet up at the newly opened Vintage Boutique in Diamond District, and he intends to beat her there. 

Reluctantly, Danny pulls away from the Signal with one final spin, and hops up onto the edge of the roof. “If you can find me during the day,” he says, “Then I’ll dance with you again. See you around, Signal!”

And with that, Danny hops backwards off the roof, free-falling towards the ground before he lets gravity lose hold of him and slips into invisibility, flying up just as the Signal peers over the edge, searching for him.

Unable to help himself, Danny floats closer until he can give the Signal a quick kiss on the cheek, then flies off, grinning wildly. 

He certainly can’t wait to see the Signal again. 

Maybe if he hired a few guys to pretend to rough him up while Signal’s out patrolling…

Well, either way, this cat is already half dead so he can jump straight to satisfaction bringing him back. And, hopefully, back into Signal’s arms again when they won’t be interrupted by other Bats. 

He’s already looking forward to it.

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

[sluttysnowangel666]

The Wolf & The Wildling

Part 2 to The Woman Beyond the Wall, last part.

masterlist

Summary: One year after Cregan’s near death experience with the wildling woman he met, he returns beyond the wall to find and recruit her in hopes of fighting alongside him for Rhaenyra Targaryen at the start of the Dance of Dragons.

cw; smut af come on you know me, really rough cregan, overstimulation, bit of angst but a happy ending :3, talks of SA, childbirth, no use of Y/N but an x reader,

stop not me getting emotional at my own story bc i imagined the end of scott street by PB playing at the ending😭am i a cornball?? anyways, thank you to the anons in my asks for the inspo, i wasn’t even really sure how to continue this story, although i knew i wanted more for cregan and his wildling, you guys gave me the inspiration i needed to give them their ending! tag list: @rebeccawinters

Every day Cregan hadn’t gone back out there felt like another day wasted.

He struggled to do his duties, struggled to sleep, fight, listen, do anything that required attention from him.

And yet despite their rather harsh separation, Cregan still thought of her with every free moment he had. It didn’t help many lords were also insisting the Warden of the North marry a noble daughter. He knew he had to do his duty, but couldn’t find the strength to do it.

It had been so long since he’d seen her that he’d begun to forget his favorite parts about her. It felt as if her strange laugh no longer echoed in his mind, as if he could no longer envision her scarred yet still smoothed skin.

He had the dagger with him always. It was like keeping a piece of her with him. He remembered the pain so vividly, could still feel the throb in his shoulder if he thought about it too hard.

Yet, the ache was nothing compared to the painful thought that always seemed to stay in his mind.

Would he ever see her again?

He couldn’t help but wonder if the Gods had greater plans for them. He prayed that they did.

“My Lord.” A voice interrupted Cregan from his thoughts. He stood, turning to face the person. “A raven has arrived from Dragonstone.”

Cregan took the scroll from the maester, quickly opening it to reveal its contents. It was a letter from Rhaenyra Targaryen. She was sending her son in hopes of gaining the support of the North, and requested Cregan have an audience with her heir, Jacaerys.

He would have to return to the Wall.

He hadn’t returned, much to the dismay of the Nights Watch, since he had nearly died from his wildling’s arrows. Even the thought of going near the Wall made his heart skip a beat. She would be so close, yet so far. He knew he could no longer avoid the wall. His duty to the men there was dire, and he had let his own fears get in the way of that.

As for his lover, he wasn’t even sure she still wanted him. As far as he knew, she hated him; she wanted to put an arrow through his eye, his dagger through his chest. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to see her again. No lady had ever compared to her. He had found his other half, and now felt empty without her.

If he did find her, what would he even do? They were bonded by love, yet separated by more than a Wall.

The separation would soon not matter anymore.

Winter is coming.

———

A fortnight later

Castle Black

Cregan had welcomed the prince to Winterfell, then accompanied him to the Wall.

The young men walked, discussing terms of Cregan’s service.

“In winter, my duty to the Wall is even more dire than the one I owe to King’s Landing. I need my men here.” Cregan says to his prince.

“Whilst your men guard against wildlings and weather,” Cregan twitched at the word wildling. “the Hightowers plan to usurp the throne. If my mother is to defend her claim to hold the realm united, she needs an army. War is coming, to the whole of the realm my lord. We cannot wage it without the support of the North.”

Jacaerys trails off, standing against the guard that overlooked the entire outside of the Wall.

“My father brought King Jahaerys and Queen Alyssane to see the wall. His Grace stood at this very outlook and watched as their dragons, the greatest power in the world, refused to cross… Do you think my ancestors built a 700 foot wall of ice to keep out snow and savages?”

“What does it keep out?” Jacaerys asks.

Cregan finally looks beyond the Wall for the first time in a year, his mind thinking of her for a brief moment, and then the darkness that lies beyond it. “Death.”

“I have thousands of graybeards who have already seen too many winters. They are… wellhoned. I can ready them to march at once.”

“If your graybeards can fight, the queen will have them.”

“They’ll fight hard.” Cregan says, his mind once again thinking of his love as he says his next words. “Like Northerners.”

Jacaerys senses something; more words that the Warden of the North wished to speak.

“Is there something else you can offer us, My Lord?” Jacaerys asks.

Cregan hesitates. “There is a woman…” He looks. beyond the wall again. “She is fierce, deadly with a bow. If I can find her… I can ask her to lead the graybeards into war.”

“Should she accept, my mother will be more than pleased to have her.” Jacaerys asks.

“My Lord!” Cregan turns, “A raven has arrived… Urgent news from Dragstone.”

Cregan looks at the man holding the scroll, who holds a sight of worry on his face. Cregan quickly opens the scroll, reading its contents.

Cregan looks at the prince, and Jacaerys tries reading the man’s stoic features.

All Cregan can do is hand Jacaerys the scroll, and let him read for himself.

———

Another fortnight passed following the news of the death of Prince Lucerys Velaryon. Jacaerys had left the Wall at once to return to Dragonstone, whilst Cregan began to prepare his graybeards to march.

“My Lord, why must you go back beyond the Wall? The graybeards do not need a leader. I do not think it wise to let them be lead by a woman beyond the Wall, let alone the one who killed the Lord Commander of the Nights Watch.” His maester tells him, worried of how the people of Winterfell and the men on the Wall will react.

“They will not know she’s a wildling. Tis’ not important information. All they need to know is she will lead them well into battle. I trust you’ll keep this information I’ve shared with you private, Maester Windell.”

“Of course, My Lord. You can count on my discretion, always, but I fear wonder if this journey is for more than a leader.”

Cregan stops his packing, not wanting to share more information than he already has with his maester. “No, maester. I only am going to help the Queen. I will be back shortly, with or without the wildling. Winter is coming, and I will not get lost beyond the Wall.”

The maester didn’t argue, so Cregan made his fortnight journey back to the Wall, and then beyond it.

He felt fear when his horse took its first steps onto the icy tundra outside the Wall’s gate. He feared he would not find her, feared she may have died, feared she would kill him before he got to kiss her one last time.

The late summer snow was not too harsh yet, but Cregan knew he did not have long to find her before Winter came.

He searched for days for her.

He returned to the spot where he first set up camp, finding the bark where he had carved a dire wolf had been completely torn and shredded by a knife.

When he returned to the cave it was dark, and no trace of her had been left behind. It made it feel like the moments they shared in there never happened.

He felt lost. He set up his camp in the cave, but she had not snuck to it during the night like last time. If she had, she truly left no trace. But, he knew he hadn’t felt her yet. She wasn’t there.

2 weeks into the journey, he had dreamt of her.

He dreamt he was a wolf, hunting, when he finally saw her.

She was sleeping, ever so soundly, beneath a bright red weirwood. He growled at her, and she awoke quickly, immediately grabbing and aiming her bow at him.

She gasped quickly, catching her breath as adrenaline coursed through her veins.

She released the arrow into his eye, and he awoke.

He was sweating despite the cold, and the burning feeling in his eye was lingering.

He rubbed it softly, but then directed his attention back to her in the dream. It was really her. She looked different. She looked stronger somehow, and her hair had grown greatly. She had it in a long, thick braid. There were bags under her eyes, like she had been exhausted from something.

He stood and exited the cave. The sun was slowly rising, but there was a blue hue that made the snow on the ground glisten. He closed his eyes, stretched, and yawned when he heard a sound.

It was a familiar sound… the sound of a bow string being pulled tightly.

He lowered his arms from his stretch, and opened his eyes.

There she was.

There she was.

She knelt on one knee, aiming her arrow at his eye. Her eyes burnt with a fire that he’d never seen, her breathing was quick and angry, her lips turned in a sad scowl, she was fueled with adrenaline.

He smiled, laughing softly. He couldn’t believe she was here. She pulled the string tighter at his sweet smile, her heart breaking at seeing him truly here.

He took a hesitant step towards her, but stopped.

A soft whining sound came from her back.

His smile faded.

She lowered her bow slowly, eventually dropping it completely. She had a fabric diagonal across her body. She moved it underneath her arm, and then twisted it around her body.

Her hands gently found and cradled the babe.

Cregan gasped. He couldn’t believe it.

She softly hushed the babe, tracing her fingers over its face. She whispered soft, comforting words to it. The babe made gentle little noises.

“Is that…” His voice was barely above a whisper. She looked at him solemnly. His hand covered his mouth.

“This is your son, Cregan.” She finally spoke. Her voice was smooth and melodic, different from how he heard her last time. He stepped towards her, falling to his knees. His whole body was shaking, and not from the cold.

“Does he have a name?” He asks, holding his arms out, hoping she’d trust him enough to hold his son.

She nervously hands him his child, fearful he might take her little babe, her only piece of Cregan, and never return again.

“No.” She says. “I only birthed him a moon ago.”

Cregan can’t hold it in anymore, and begins sobbing. All of his emotions pent up from the last year pour out. He holds the babe close to his chest, sobbing relentlessly.

He’d missed her so greatly this past year and now seeing her here, alone with this little babe, he’d realized how badly he erred. He wasn’t there to comfort her, hold her, help her. She had suffered it all alone.

“I’m so sorry.” He sobs.

She stares at him, her face unwavering. She was so angry. She wanted to kill him so bad, to take back her babe and cut his throat.

But, she couldn’t.

He’d broken her heart in such an unimaginable way. She’d cried over him for weeks, and when her blood hadn’t came she knew the worst had happened. But now he was here, holding their babe and sobbing like a child. She didn’t even know Cregan was capable of such emotions. She didn’t truly know him, and he didn’t truly know her.

Her hand found its way to his broad shoulder to try to comfort him. Her other hand moved to cradle his cheek. He rested his face into her hand, spilling wet tears on her.

“Oh, Cregan.” She whispered, wiping the never ending tears from his cheek. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his, hushing him like she did their babe. She wrapped her other arm around him, bringing her warm body against his while still being careful of their infant.

“I’m so sorry.” He repeats. “I should not have left you. I should have killed those men and brought you home-“

“Sh, sh, Cregan.” She whispers again. “I’m yours, as you are mine.”

Her words send him back into tears. She presses soft kisses to the tears on his cheek, weaving her fingers in his curls that she desperately missed.

“Where have you been?” He asks, minutes after calming down. “I’ve searched these whole damn woods for you.”

She smiles softly, “You think I don’t know that?” He smiles. “Why did you come back here, Cregan?”

He looks down at their sleeping babe, then back at her. “I’ve wanted to come back every day since I have been apart from you… But, I couldn’t find the strength. I regret it more than anything. I regret leaving you, I regret not coming sooner, I-“

She cuts him off, placing her warm lips onto his. Not breaking the kiss, her hands take the babe from him, setting him aside next to them.

“What are you-“

She slaps him across the face, with such a strong hand that he can’t help but stop and look back at her in total shock. She pulls his lips back into her, confusing him with her back and forth attitude. “If you ever leave me again, I really will put an arrow through your eye.”

He smirks, pulling her back into him with his strength. “Now we’re even.” She whispers.

“We were even when you nearly killed me last year.” He says, she growls at him, but they continue kissing. “I wear these scars with honor.”

She tears into his soft clothes, “Take him inside, and then come back out here and make me yours again.”

He pulls away with haste, grabbing his babe gently and walking back into the cave. She follows, right on his heels. He finds a safe spot for their babe, setting the sleeping child down.

He turns, grabbing her by the neck and kissing her, pushing her backwards out to the cold.

“Be gentle with me.” She whispers into his lips.

“No.” Cregan says, ripping off her furs and throwing them on the ground. She smirks, not wanting him to anyway.

He grabs her by her hair and she shrieks. He pushes her down to her knees, and she sits in the cold snow once again. He unlaces his breeches, and she quickly tugs them down with his soft clothes.

She presses her cold fingers onto his pelvis, and she places gentle kisses along his length. She looks up at him with her big, doe eyes. He pulls her head back by her hair again and she gasps. He pushes himself into her mouth, immediately groaning at her warm tongue. She moans around him, placing her hand at what she can’t fit in her mouth. He grabs both sides of her face, thrusting his hips into her mouth, not realizing his roughness. He had missed her so much, and he was so lost in the pleasure of her mouth.

She gagged repeatedly, her eyes flowing with tears. Her free hand rested on his toned stomach for balance, and she scratched her nails into him from time to time.

He pulled her head back with a pop of her lips, and looked down at the little mess before him. Her cheeks were stained with tears, drool spilling from her lips, her thighs rubbing together to relieve the tension between her legs.

He pushed her back into the snow and got on his knees, placing himself between her legs. He wrapped his hand around her throat again, rubbing his fingers at the wetness between her legs.

“You’ve missed me?” He asks.

“I’ve missed that cock.” She teases.

“Don’t worry. There won’t be much to miss soon.” He presses a harsh kiss to her lips, sliding himself into her. She gasps into his lips, trying to pull away to cry out, but he refuses to let her go. He pulls one of her legs to his chest to give him a deeper angle and she whines into his lips. He starts thrusting, fast and harsh, into her healing cunt. His hand moves from her throat to her breast, now round and large with milk than the last time he’d had her.

“Cregan!” She cries out loudly, finally breaking free from his lips. She throws her head back into ecstasy, her hair becoming wet from the snow. Cregan moans loudly, his thrusts sloppy and quick.

“I’m putting another babe in you.” He moans, forgetting why he was there to retrieve her in the first place.

“I’ll fucking kill you.” She says, slapping him across the face. He looks at her angrily, a wolf awakening inside him. He grabs her face, his fingers digging into her cheeks as he fucks her harshly and angrily.

“I’m gonna cum.” She whines, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

“Don’t.” He says. She gasps, begging and pleading for her release. He slows his thrust, leaving her in agony. She bucks her hips towards him, but he pushes them down, locking her in place with his strong arm.

“I fucking hate you.” She moans.

“Cum for me then, and we can see if that is how you feel for me after.” His thrusts go back to their fast, sloppy pace, and she moans. Her hands grab his wrist, clawing her nails into his forearm.

She hits her peak and moans his name repeatedly. Her fingers dig into the snow again, the other hand digging into his arm. He growls, not stopping and continuing to thrust.

“Stop it.” She whispers, her body shaking at the sensitivity. Cregan doesn’t listen, only maintaining his harsh pace. He lifts both of her legs to his chest, his length touching her womb. “Please, Cregan, fuck!” She whines, tears spilling from her eyes at the overstimulation.

Her fists hit his chest, and yet he continues. She slaps him across the face, over and over again, and he still continues, his face stoic, desperate for nothing more than to see her writhing beneath him.

She sobs as she cums on him again, slapping and hitting him harshly. Her body is a trembling mess, peaking with pleasure and pain. Finally satisfied, he lets his own peak wash over him, filling her to the brim with his seed again, right against her womb. He rests over her, moaning and biting her neck, despite her nails scratching and drawing blood against his neck.

“Cunt.” She moans into his shoulder, holding him tightly against her shaking body. He pulls out, gently, allowing her to rest before he carries her back into the cave, stepping into the hot spring with her in his arms.

She rests against him, and it’s as if they had never been apart. He looks over at their sleeping babe on the ground, smiling gently. He looks back down at his love, his smile fading.

“There is a war brewing in Westeros.” He finally tells her.

“What for this time?” She asks, drawing little shapes on his chest, not seeming to really care about his answer.

He decides to wait to tell her, instead wanting to enjoy the moment with her.

“I’m sorry for what I said to you… before I left.” He says. She sighs.

“Cregan… Do you wish to know why I killed the Lord Commander?”

He looks down at her, confused. He assumed her only reason was she hated crows. She looks up at him.

“Why?” He asks.

She waits before explaining. “He’d come out there before with some of his men. They often hunted wildlings for fun. They’d tell the men back at the wall it was for a hunting exhibition, but really… They were tired of the women from some place called Mole’s Town.”

Cregan was still confused.

“That was years ago, when I was in a tribe… But, the crows just kept coming back… And our tribe refused to leave, because our ancestors had settled there hundreds of years before.” She pauses, “The Lord Commander always said I was his favorite… I left eventually. Turns out I’m safer alone. That’s when I started killing crows.”

Cregan realized he was gripping her arm too tightly, and loosened his hold. What she said changed everything. Men were coming beyond the Wall to force themselves on wildling women. He wanted to be sick. Cregan’s last words to her before he left… that he would kill her for what she did.

Anger ignited inside him, but there was nothing he could do. The Lord Commander was dead, she got her revenge. But, the thought of that happening to her, the words he spoke before he left her alone. It was too much.

She noticed his tension, and placed her hand on his cheek. “My wolf.” She whispered. He closed his eyes and turned away from her touch.

“I’ve failed you… Again, and again, and again.” He says, tears spilling from his eyes.

She straddles him, forcing him to look at her. “Aye. You have.” He looks at her, not expecting brr bluntness. She wipes his tears. “But you’re still mine, Cregan Stark… and I’m not perfect either.”

He presses a soft kiss to her lips, wrapping his arms around her.

“So, what were you saying about the war?” She asks, resting her head on his shoulder.

“There is a war forming between the dragons. It is growing more and more dire.”

“Dragons?” She asked. “Like in the stories?”

“Aye, my lady. Except these are no stories. The dragons are dancing, and the North must stand ready to fight with the true Queen.”

“Queen?” She asks. “Aren’t you King in the North?”

“No, my love. Starks bent the knee over a century ago.”

She leans back to look at him. “Bend the knee to me.”

“I do every time I stick my cock in you.” She laughs, a sweet and gentle laugh, no longer the chaotic one she used to do.

“You’re different.” He says, a smile on his face.

“I am a mother now. My child has softened my witch heart.” She jests.

Mother. The mother to his child, specifically. He couldn’t ask her to lead the gray beards no longer. She needed to return to Winterfell with him to raise their son. His smile fades and she notices.

“You’re different.” She repeats his words. “Why did you come? Truly?”

“You are a warrior… and the North must stand ready.” He looks at her, his eyes worried.

“You… You want me to fight?” She asks, stepping off him and standing. The water stops at her hips, and he tries hard to keep his attention focused on her face. “Just a moon after I nearly died pushing out your fat little babe?”

“No, no, my lady. I do not want you fighting no longer.” He looks at her, taking her hands in his. “I want you to come home… with me. To Winterfell.”

“My home is the North.” She says, taking her hand away.

“No, no.” He stands, resting his hands on her arms. He looks over at their sleeping son. “He changes everything.”

His son would be considered a bastard, by all traits, but he was his son nonetheless. He would raise him as a Stark… as his heir to Winterfell.

“Home is not a place.” Cregan says. “A home is what you make it… My place may be in Winterfell, but it is not my home if you and my son are not with me.”

She sighs. “I’m no lady, Cregan.”

“I know… and I don’t care.”

“I will not watch you marry a noble while I am your whore that you force to work in your castle and fuck at night.”

“I would never ask that of you.” Cregan says, putting his hand on the back of her neck to pull her closer. “Starks are honorable men. You will be my wife, and my son will be my heir. I will kill any man who ever dares harm you again.”

She stares at him as he continues. “I needed an excuse to come back out here… If I told them I came out here to get you to lead the Northern army, then it raised less suspicion. But, I care no longer. I only care about you.”

“What if I say no? That I won’t join you?” She asks.

“Then I would accept.” He looks at his son. “All I ask is you let me bring him.”

She looks at their son. Cregan continues. “He will never know a cold night, he will learn to fight among men, he’ll have a full belly every time he goes to sleep, he’ll be respected by all those around him… and if you came, so would you.”

She looks back at Cregan. “He will join you.”

Cregan closes his eyes, her hand resting against his cheeks.

“As will I.” He opens them to look at her again.

“Truly?” She nods. He laughs, breathlessly, pulling her in for a deep hug. His fingers weave into her hair, holding her tightly against his chest.

“I will fight for you as well.” He pulled away to look at her.

“No.” He says. “No, I need you with me at Winterfell.”

“Cregan… A queen! You honor me, choosing me to lead your Northern army.”

“I don’t want you to.” He says. “What of our son? You could be gone for years… You could not return.”

She laughs, “My Lord Stark… You’d be a bloody fool to think any man could kill me.”

“This is hardly a war between men, my girl. This is a war between dragons, and none will ever be so bloody.”

“Cregan… I am of the free folk, which means I will always be free. Being free means I have the choice to fight for you… and for a Queen.”

———

Cregan returned to Winterfell a week later, carrying his babe in his arms on his horse, with a wilding woman behind him.

His maester was bewildered at the sight before him. “My Lord… Who is this babe you carry?”

“Maester, this is my son and this woman here is his mother… and my betrothed. She will be leading the graybeards in the war. Call upon wet nurses and maids to help foster our son while she is gone.”

“A-At once, My Lord.” The maester stumbled over his words, giving the wildling one last look before going to do his task.

Later that night, her and Cregan sat in his chambers. His lover couldn’t help but explore and ask questions about everything in the castle.

“What is this?”

“A pen and paper.”

“What does it do?”

“Well, you tell the maester a message and then he writes it down and gives it to a raven to send off.”

“And this?”

“A tub.”

“What does it do?”

“Bathes you.” It went on like this for hours, but he didn’t care. He was glad to share with her his way of life. Her naiveness at noble life was sweet.

When they cuddled up in his furs in their now shared bed, she laughed with giddiness. “Ask them to bring more.”

“My love, you’re under four bear pelts and the hearth is at full flame, you’re going to get hot.”

“Hot?”

“Warm, my girl. Too warm.”

“I don’t care. This is all so exquisite. You should’ve brought me here much sooner, you know.”

Cregan simply smiled, looking down at their son in his arms. “Did you have any names in mind for him?”

She hums, resting on her elbow to face them. “Cregan is quite a handsome name.”

“We can name give him a Stark name if you like mine.”

“Like what?”

“How about… Benjen Stark.”

“Benjen.” She whispered, sitting up and touching her son’s dark locks. “I love it.”

Her and Cregan locked eyes, staring at each other in silence. “You don’t have to go, my love.”

“I do.” She says, cradling Cregan’s cheek.

“I wish to marry you, make you Lady Stark of Winterfell.”

“I will be your… Lady… when I return.” She says, unsure of the proper term to use.

He laughs, “Wife. You will be my wife. I can have the maester teach you to read and write upon your return.”

“Truly?” She asks. “Like stories?”

“Stories, history, anything my betrothed wishes to read she can.”

“Betrothed?”

“It means we’re to be wed, at some point.”

She presses her forehead to Cregan’s. “I can’t believe I am here.”

“Neither can I, my love.”

He presses a gentle kiss to her lips, and they fell asleep like that, Benjen full and warm in his father’s arms.

Cregan and his love were only able to share a few nights together before it was time for her to march with the graybeards.

“You are strong, my lady. Command these men like you did me, and they’ll follow you anywhere.”

Cregan lifted her onto her horse, and she nervously settled into the saddle. He stepped onto his own, Benjen tightly secured to his chest as the babe was to his mother when Cregan stumbled back upon them.

She took her hand in his, and he pressed a gentle kiss to it. “Come back safe to me, my girl.”

She smirked, “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to kill some Southerners.”

“Goodbye, my sweet boy.” She says, touching Benjen’s hair one last time.

“Take care of our son, Cregan.” He nodded, tears welling in his eyes.

“I have a gift for you before you go.”

His master at arms came to him, handing him the freshly made dire wolf crest. He pinned it on her chest, and she looked down, tracing her fingers over the craftsman ship.

“You are a Stark… from this day, until your last day.” He said. She looked at Cregan, pride in her face.

“I’ll make you proud, my Lord Stark.”

He handed her the dagger, the very thing that brought them together. “I know you will.”

With that, she turned and slowly began to leave with her horse.

She turned to look back at them. “By the way, I killed your horse last year.”

Cregan’s smile faded, but then she laughed, and he couldn’t help but laugh too. She turned back around, and he looked down at his son, his beautiful little pup. The babe’s big gray eyes staring back at the ones he inherited from his father.

Cregan rode the opposite direction from her. He turned again to look at her one last time, and she turned to look at him too.

He smiled at her, letting the tears fall. She smiled back. He watched her ride the opposite way, and she watched him as he rode back to Winterfell until they could no longer see each other.

He would miss her greatly, but he knew she would return. This parting would not be forever, for they knew that they were bonded by love, seperated by only distance this time. No wall, no duty, no pain would ever come between them again.

He couldn’t wait for her to get back to them so they could start their life together.

Forever.

[folklovrr]

nature feels spencer reid

| spencer reid x fem!reader

| hello! my first post on tumblr. inspired by frank oceans song nature feels. but also like… kind of not. idunno!! minors please dni (18+)

| content warning: religious references, munch!spencer (😁) worship?!, making out, alludes to pinv.

Spencer Reid was an endlessly curious man. It generally didn’t matter what the subject was, he already knew about, and could be classified as an expert in the field.

He like to think of himself as a specialist in all things mathematics, chemistry, engineering, and you. At times like these, that last one became more of a weakness than a strength.

Sitting on the plane home, returning from an exhausting case, hearing the bass line from Derek’s headphones and the muffled sounds of Rossi and Hotch discussing something that could be anywhere from the case to his latest interaction with wife number nth, Spencer Reid couldn’t stop thinking about sleeping with you. You hid in the buzz of the engine, the smell of coffee leaking out of the jet’s small kitchen, taking him to the four walls of your shared apartment, where the smell was omnipresent.

Many people might compare you to a warm summers day, but he found that misrepresentative. You were much more comparable to a snowy christmas evening. It’s the time of year that everyone looks forward to, cookies and cakes and freshly cooked meals, things that were constantly filling your kitchen, love leaking from their extra chocolate chips. All year round, when christmas music plays, people are filled with joy and cheer, and he thinks this phenomenon is not unlike to that of your sounds, and when his memory so unhelpfully brings those to the forefront of his mind, he is filled with that same joy.

The familiar bump of the jets landing cut this train of thought, and as the team filed back to quantico, Spencer had never been more grateful for two things:

1. the fbi’s access to efficient travel - he thinks that if he was forced to sit in the metro waiting, the personification of himeros that was sitting eagerly in his heart ( and other parts of him that he was careful not to pay attention to at this time ) would grab him by the shoulders and force him under the need that he was drowning in.

2. the invention of internet and online communication - the influx of texts from that had ceased to deliver while he was in the sky all flooded in at once, giving him the idea that this missing business was not one sided.

| spence, hope you’re ok :( penny told me that case was tough. cant wait to see you

| I have missed you so much. cant stop thinking about you. text me when you land, love.

| come find me when you get home, doctor ;) i have a surprise for you!

It was in moments like these, when people showed even the slightest romantic fondness for him, that he was taken back to his bumbling college experiences with sex. A word that people danced around, but he researched thoroughly. Not for perverse reasons, as this form of interest in the female anatomy would hit him a bit later in life, but pure curiosity. Why did people enjoy? He could understand what the appeal was for men, but what made the experience enjoyable for the other sex?

These questions still plagued him to this day, even after extensive practical elements were added to his studies, with you being a very supportive test subject. Spencer explored what it was like to feel, and to find meaning through this thing that had become so, even though it sounds silly to say, sexualised in media, and to move past the physical elements (but he still appreciated those, greatly) and to find what philosophers spent eons theorising over, which the two of you seemed to have found so easily. Connection.

In the many nights he had spent tangled in your embrace, Spencer mused thoughts of the origins of humans, and as the quiet hymns of the night sung, he worshipped Apollo for having mercy on the split humans and reconstituting their forms, allowing them to find this physical bond, and their souls other half.

As the elevator at quantico rose to the BAU’s floor, the team had a quiet understanding amongst them that small talk was not necessary, and that conversations of weekend plans were trivial in comparison to the things the victims had been through.

After finishing up the, for lack of better words, ginormous pile of paperwork, Spencer was finally free to follow the light of your twin flame home. As he sits in the metro though, he is brought back to the disdain he holds for the public transportation system, and the distain for every passenger that gets of on a stop before his, slowing his journey. He wishes that access to the fbi’s vehicles was available off the clock, for boyfriends whose need for their girlfriends was eating them alive. How inconsiderate of them.

When the autonomic voice announced the station where you resided, so close yet so far, Spencer jumped out of his seat, himeros once again took control of his body, willing his muscles all the way home.

As the loved in door to your home creaked open, Spencer was guided by the candlelight and warm lamps through to the back garden, where the leaves and flowers of the cherry trees spread through the garden fall gracefully and surround a figure, who is gently swing back and forth on a tree swing. Spencer sees you, and wonders what if this is what Adam thought when he first saw Eve, and if he too felt so compelled to caress the slopes of her neck and pray at her divine altar.

The leaves under Spencer’s converse crunched, and alerted you to his presence. As you turned around, there was barely a split second before Spencer was on you, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck with his arms planted firmly around your waist.

“hi spence”, you whispered quietly into his hair, the glasses on the bridge of his nose digging into the skin of your neck. he began to plant soft kisses there, to exhausted to formulate a response. You nudged his chin with your shoulder, and his lips landed softly on yours, gentle kisses explaining things that words do no justice to.

As the night air became more humid around you, and fireflies surrounded the two of you, Spencer’s warm hands pushed the ankle length hem of your spring dress up your thighs, closer to your core. He kisses a pathway up your calf, up your thigh, towards the need in your centre, and ponders if god had made you for him.

Spencer thinks that he is fairly devoted to a number of things, like his work, or his academia, but the way he eats you out is oh so blasphemous. He circles and flicks and plunges just right, and as the cherry flowers fall in his hair, he looks like a debauched angel, with a sole mission of making you come on his tongue. he is devoted to it, and it’s his mission.

The way that you moan his name and pulse around his fingers turns him on more than things that are seen as generally sexually conductive for the male gender, and as you pull his roots and tighten your thighs around his head, he feels the satisfaction of your pleasure travel all the way to his climax, without being touched. Truly sinful Spencer Reid, truly Sinful.

As his mouth separates from your divinity, he thinks that the string of saliva that connects you is symbolic of every single thing that connects your physical elements to the emotional unison that you share. As the dirt digs into Spencer’s knees, and the thighs around his head loosen with satisfaction, He can’t help but compare you to the delicate cherry blossoms, and he sees your kindness and ineffable gentleness bloom around the garden.

You stand, and pull Spencer to his feet, and as he pushes you against the bark of the cherry tree, ready to connect again, just as Apollo and Adam and Eve and whoever else he had to thank for this intended, he can’t wait to feel your nature, to make love.

a/n thank you for reading!!! i know it’s rough, but yet i persevered and finished it. yay me 😛.

[jaylver]

ROCKLAND — P.SH

synopsis: almost like a nightmare, park sunghoon plagues your present just as much as your past regrets had done. however, this time around, you and him decided to right your wrongs one last time.

pairings: non-idol!sunghoon x afab!reader

genre: exes to lovers, miscommunications, angst, second chance romance

warning(s): profanities, brief mentions of smoking, drinking, partying and alcohol

wc: 8k

a/n: i'm BACK. this has been in the works for far too long because of the constant writer's block so i'm not sure if it's good or not, plus it's my first exes to lovers so please be nice <3 greatly inspired by gracie abram's "rockland", so do give it a listen too! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

If there was one thing you’d regret forever in this lifetime, it would be ending things with the love of your life.

You admit it, you’re selfish. Selfish for wanting to leave the town you grew to hate, selfish for prioritising yourself and chasing your dreams, choosing to leave the people you loved instead. Painted a villain in the eyes of many close to the person you once went home to and even the man himself. But, how could he fully blame you when he was equally selfish too?

Park Sunghoon thought keeping you in the cage of this small town was going to make him a happy man. He often fantasised about the possibility of you and his future together, completely pushing aside the thought of you leaving, until it actually happened.

He was angry. He let himself be consumed by his own feelings and mindlessly projecting his anger and blame on you, while you regretfully did the same.

Pools of tears and venomous words spewed out of impulse left you scarred and broken down. It was a bad ending that you’d see in movies coming to life. The moment you had everything packed and goodbyes said, you figured leaving was for the best, now that your ex hates you and his friends who probably felt the same. 

It was a shame, though. Heading to somewhere far from home with a heavy heart knowing you didn’t have the chance to see him once more. Frankly, you were a coward, and so was he.

That explained why returning back home was the scariest thing you had to face in a while. 

It was ironic, wasn't it? Coming back to the place you wished for years to escape and actually doing so, but eventually having to return after you dropped out of the college that you've been praying and praying to get into, only for it to be overwhelming and the city lights couldn't compare to the starry night of your hometown.

You suppose you got the thing you wanted, but it just wasn't what you imagined.

Freshly twenty-two and out of school, you figured home was what you needed in your next step before deciding if you should re enrol. However, you find yourself not having the guts to face your family and friends, not after the promises turned out to be empty. 

"You should quit smoking," 

Yunjin, your cousin and practically your closest friend growing up, was just a distance away when you spotted her, leaning against her car with a cigarette in hand. You found it amusing how she didn't cave into vapes instead in this day and age. 

"Y/N!" She pushed the bud of her half smoked cigarette into the wall, then started jogging towards you, her dress flowing in the wind and boots making obnoxious clicks against the ground. There was a sense of relief in her eyes, her usual smile that you missed graced your presence. "God, I missed you, things aren't the same without you here,"

In the span of a few seconds of her hug, you took the chance to digest her words. Did that mean the traditions you've upheld are now gone? Parties, trips to the beach, all those? 

"What?"

Yunjin pulled away, still managing a small smile. "I don't think things were ever the same since you left … and after you broke up with Sunghoon,"

You blinked, looking away into the distance. "I don't think I'll be welcomed,"

Yunjin scoffed, slapping your arm and scurrying to get your bags. "Don't say that! So not true. Everyone in the family is waiting for you to be back—"

"And talk behind my back about my failure in graduating? Yeah, no,"

‘‘That’s not going to happen,” Yunjin sighed, struggling with your bags and declining your help, but you still forcefully grabbed some knowing she’d eventually crumble. “I think they’ll get it,”

Would they?

Once you are settled into the car, bags successfully loaded into the trunk, you let yourself melt into the comforts of Yunjin’s passenger seat, finally getting to close your eyes and drift away. You thought it was best before having to face everything and everyone once again.

“What’s your plan now, anyway?”

Without opening your eyes, you envisioned a distant image in your head. “Take my time off and see if I’d like to re enrol or not. If I don’t, I’ll just go plan B,”

“Which is?”

“Accept the job offer in London,”

Yunjin almost hit the brakes out of shock, the news that came from you felt like it had hit her in the face, but somehow, she managed to keep her cool and not get you both killed. “What?” she shrieked.

“What?” you questioned back, sounding nonchalant as if this was just another normal offer that didn’t seem particularly significant. But it was.

“You have a job offer in London and you’re coming back here,”

“I left the city for a reason, it’d be stupid to go to another one right after,”

Yunjin exhaled, blinking in stupor. “Right,”

“How’s … everyone?”

Yunjin knew you weren’t referring to your family. Of course you’d know how your own family was doing, that’s a no brainer. What you were trying to mean was your old friend group. You couldn’t blame them for being mad at you, after all you were only a part of it because of Sunghoon.

“Heeseung’s graduating soon,” this was the first update you’ve gotten from Yunjin after those years away. It took you every will not to ask her about them, but here you were now, finally giving in. “They’re still the same, nothing’s changed,”

“What about him?”

Yunjin seemed hesitant, obviously holding back something that she didn’t want you to know. “I’m not going to explode upon hearing, you know that, right?” you joked lightheartedly, but secretly dreading hearing about him.

“I think he’s seeing someone,”

“Good for him,” 

Would it be a crime to admit that you still missed your ex? Something in you was wishing you could rekindle a connection again now that you’re back, but all that hope shattered. If he had already moved on, why couldn’t you? Even after knowing how he probably hated and resented you for doing what you did, you still couldn’t bring yourself to hate him back. 

“That’s all?”

“You want me to go full crazy ex mode? You’re insane,” you shook your head, smiling a little, hoping Yunjin didn’t notice the speck of sadness swimming in your irises. “Whoever she is, I’m sure that I would like her … if I were slightly nicer,”

She let out a ‘tch’ in response, though grinning. “What are you going to do with them around? There’s no way you’d be able to fully avoid them,”

“What can I do? I’ll just have to coexist.”

Coexist was a funny word. How were you able to do that when you couldn’t even fully get over Sunghoon in the first place? Thinking about meeting him in flesh already made you feel like doubling over and projectile vomit. That was how pathetic you were, what a shame. 

Settling in was easy. It was natural to be back home, way better than being in the noisy city and constantly surrounded by a bunch of fake friends. The question of why you left in the first place started burning your mind as you tossed around trying to sleep, but it only persisted to bug you. Then came the thoughts of Sunghoon and the friends you left behind, which prompted you to be fully awake, sitting up in bed.

It wasn't the greatest idea to reach for your phone and search for his contact name, just to recall the day you deleted his number. Yet, your memory never failed you, remembering the digits like it was first instinct, fingers already typing his number. Your thumb hovered over the green call button, a haze in your mind.

Inevitably, you shut your phone and dug your head into your pillow. He would've laughed then, if he had seen this happen, the exact moment of you almost caving in and finally saying the sorry you never gave him.

The pictures you saw of him on social media here and there made you wonder how he was and if he had already forgotten about you. There were a few recurring appearances of a girl that seemed to linger by his side in group pictures that caught your eyes. Who took your bed when you left? Who laughed at everything that he said? Was it that girl?

Just like the time you first had a crush on Sunghoon, you stayed awake thinking about him, except this time around, you were filled with regret instead of hope. 

"Heeseung asked me about you,"

Yunjin's random confession in the middle of the day had surprised you. Lee Heeseung, the best friend of your ex who you swore hated your guts, asked about you? Shocker.

"What did you say?"

"I said something along the lines of you figuring out life and just chilling here until the time comes," Yunjin shrugged, and you nodded slowly. "But there's something he said that made me a bit … confused?"

"What?"

"He said they wanted to see you again," 

You raised your eyebrows, a hint of scepticism flashed over your eyes. "They want to see me? Tell me a better joke next time, thanks,"

"I'm not joking! I mean, he did say excluding Sunghoon, but the other guys wanted to know how you were now that you're back," Yunjin winced a little at the mention of your ex, but you waved it off.

"Are they treating me to dinner or something?"

"Well … no. But Heeseung asked me to bring you to their next party, which is in a few days," Yunjin's gaze softened, hand patting your back. "You know you don't have to come if you don't want to. I mean, after all that happened with you and them and Sunghoon,"

You let out a small sigh, absentmindedly fidgeting your fingers. "It's all in the past now. I'm sure Sunghoon has moved on with another girl, and maybe—just maybe—the guys do hate me less."

You never went to that party Yunjin mentioned.

It was hard to admit but you knew, deep inside you, you were afraid, too cowardly to face the people you once knew. Instead, you chose to linger around like a lost soul in a town full of the ghosts of your past. 

It didn't help that the party was also in Sunghoon's house. How did they expect you to go in the first place? You thought you'd never step foot in there after you broke it off with him, and you were adamant on keeping it that way, but your heart got the worst of you.

On the night of the party, you drove around the neighbourhood, eventually stopping across the street of his house. You didn't know what got to you to do so, but you guessed reminiscence and bright lights coming from the house were the reason. The music was loud, people were coming in and out of the house, and the only thing you could think of was him.

That thought alone was enough to have you drive away, leaving the house further and further away into the background just as the memories of him being pushed into the back of your mind.

Rotting in your bed wasn't how your early 20s were meant to be spent, and avoiding almost everyone most definitely wasn't the case either.

Your family and Yunjin were the only people you saw daily, as for the friends you once had, they were long forgotten or didn't even bother to reach out. Except for Heeseung and the others.

That, to you, was a really funny thing to think about. People who stuck by you after the break up and swore to be your closest friends didn't try contacting you once you moved back, knowing damn well word traveled fast in the town; whereas the friends you thought hated you were the first to reach out.

"I'll go to that party," you said to Yunjin on a sunny afternoon tanning session by the pool, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of your nose, hiding the apprehension in your eyes.

"Really?" Yunjin almost jumped out of her seat. It was a party she had brought up days ago, still persistent on taking you out. At least this time around, it wasn't in Sunghoon's house, but her friend Chaewon's. "That's great! Chaewon and the girls are super nice, you'll love them. Let's pick a nice outfit for you, okay?"

Yunjin was by far the most enthusiastic one between you and her. She was picking out dresses and tops, literally rummaging through your closet for anything, and you had to remind her it was just a college party. So, you settled for a skirt and a plain top. 

"Will you be okay? I'll stick by you," Yunjin had her arms around you, standing by the front door of Chaewon's house, hearing the music blaring from the inside.

"I'm fine—I think I'll be fine—I just don't want to run away from everyone anymore," it was mostly true, you thought it was inevitable to hide all the time, that wasn't how you're going to spend your life living.

"If there's anything, tell me, okay? We'll leave if you're getting sick," Yunjin gave your arm a final squeeze of assurance before crossing the threshold. 

It was the same as every party you've gone to. Loud music, drunk college kids, liquor and beers strayed around, it reeked of your nightmare in a nutshell there. 

Yunjin's friends were all as lovely as she had promised. The host herself was wobbling on her feet but managed to grace you with her humour. There was Sakura and Kazuha that you learned were foreign students. 

Throughout the night, you were stuck by Yunjin, going from circle to circle and introducing yourself or recognising some of your past school mates. But, almost inevitably so, Heeseung, Jay and Jake had made an appearance too.

"Y/N," Jay was the first to call your name, causing you to turn your head at the familiar voice. 

Your thoughts during then were jumbled into a mess. The people you were fighting to avoid were standing in front of you, all of which were much different than the memories you had of them in mind. 

Three of them had grown taller, gained some muscles and matured in many ways. Jay's hair was dyed pink, Heeseung got new piercings and Jake had a tattoo on his finger. It was strange to admit they're the same people you knew despite feeling the complete opposite of familiarity.

"Hey—" you were cut off by Jay closing in and pulling you into a hug, this for once was something you remembered about him.

"We're so glad you're back," he whispered into your hair, squeezing you tight. It reminded you then that you were friends with him and the guys before you even dated Sunghoon, that connection was deeper than it seemed, and for it to be severed just because of a breakup was gut wrenching to realise. "We're sorry, Y/N, we're so sorry,"

His apology was genuine, that's for sure. Once you pull away, you let both Heeseung and Jake take turns to hug you, whispering apologies into your ear. It was odd, to accept their apologies and having to start afresh. You held onto them, just taking it in. To forgive was a big step, but maybe it was your first step.

You sat there, catching up with them and slowly getting comfortable just like the old days. Heeseung graduated and got a good job offer, Jay and Jake were still studying, both of which were in the same university. You were relieved there was nothing too awkward between you and them, or else you would have regretted your choices.

The night continued on with a few small talks and eventually you had to excuse yourself to the toilet. You wondered how Chaewon's house was so big, with halls that seemed to never end, or it could just be the effects of alcohol.

Stumbling around, you held onto the walls, passing by rooms occupied by people probably doing something unspeakable. You thought your peace of mind would be intact until the end of the night, but you were wrong. Upon turning a corner, you froze.

It was Sunghoon. It was him.

Grief was a funny feeling, especially when it comes to someone you once knew. You stared at him and there he was, like a ghost from your past coming back to haunt you. He was the shell of the person you loved, and you couldn't help but grieve the person he once was. What was he like now? 

Before you could even turn around and make a run for it, his wandering eyes landed on you. He had the same thought process as you. Realisation, panic, sadness, confusion all mixed into a heap of feelings. 

Your feet started moving on its own, as you stepped back, he took a step forward. Your breath became ragged, heart thumping hard and blood pumping in your ears. He was nearing, and you were running away, it was the same as before.

"Y/N!" He called out, and all it took was him to say your name again to have you stop in your tracks. Gosh, you were pathetic.

He was standing before you now, closer than he was a moment ago. It was then you realised how much he had changed too. 

He was taller, smile lines etched much deeper into his face, almost changing along the same wavelengths with the others. There was something different about the way he looked at you, however. From love in his eyes that eventually changed into hatred was now filled with longing and confusion.

"Y/N," he repeated, disbelief evident in his voice, as if he couldn't believe you were there. 

"Sunghoon," you blinked, a frown unknowingly making its way to your face. You let a few beats of silence pass, conflicted and nervous. "I—I should leave,"

"No—!" his hand reached out for you, but you didn't feel his touch. He didn't dare to touch you, letting his hand linger before pulling it back to his side. "I mean, you don't have to leave,"

"I thought you hate me,"

Sunghoon's gaze fell to the floor, jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed. He met your eyes once more. "I should hate you, shouldn't I? But I don't think I do, I never did,"

You blinked, a little surprised, a little hurt. All along he had made you think he hated your guts but he actually didn't? "Oh," you seemed to have lost the ability to talk or to compute a proper sentence.

You thought of the things you wanted to ask him. If he was still angry at you or if things were working for him. But, what came out was the question you've stored in the back of your mind instead.

"Are you with someone new?"

You figured he didn't expect such a question from you, much as you didn't expect yourself saying it. It was an itching thought, one that made you look like a typical ex, but you couldn't help it.

"I'm not," he sounded almost exasperated, as if having to squash down this rumour for the thousandth time.

"Oh … oh," you didn't know what to say, averting your gaze away from him and finding comfort in the wall behind him. 

Sunghoon paused, gaze following yours, looking reluctant whether or not to continue the conversation, but alas, he did. "How have you been?"

"Bad," you laughed a little, and Sunghoon's ears perked at the sound of it that he hasn't heard for ages. "You?"

"I quit skating,"

That was surprising. How could he have? Skating was his dream, his past, present and supposed future, but now, it came crashing down. You didn't know if you should feel sorry for him, as you have been a part of his journey, but one bit of you also seemed to have started mourning the changed Sunghoon that stood before you.

"Why?"

He shrugged, hands slipping into his pocket with a solemn look. "I lost interest. I'm into music now, I'm in a band with the guys,"

You heaved a breath, a deep one. Ironic it was that he was doing music now when he was the one criticising you in the past for wanting to pursue it. Who even was this person? With a new appearance came a new personality, he was much further away than you thought despite the physical distance.

"You've changed," you didn't know what prompted you to say that, maybe it was the disbelief or the denial that he was someone new, but whatever it was, neither of you could deny the fact that he did change. "I'm scared of the person you've become,"

A beat passed, an unreadable expression on Sunghoon's face that you couldn't distinguish even though by now you thought you'd know every one of them. 

"And I'm scared you're still the same."

Seeing Sunghoon that night seemed to have altered something in your life. Somehow, he was everywhere you went. 

Who was working at the register? Sunghoon. Who was at the park? Sunghoon. Who was at the party Yunjin managed to drag you to? Sunghoon.

It was haunting.

All those little encounters didn't mean you talked to him like normal, though. The awkward tension in the air still remained, seeing each other only reminded you and him both of your pasts, and you hated it. That explained why you were having a hard time seeing him at another party you were at.

Yunjin was much more of a party goer than you expected, and she successfully convinced you to go to all of them. It was fun until you got drunk and started being emotional. Your efforts of hiding from Sunghoon that night failed when he barged into the empty room you were sobbing in, whether it was accidental or not, you didn't know, you wished to not know.

"Y/N?"

His voice brought back the times he called your name. Both the good and bad ones. You stared up at him from the ground, tears welling your eyes. The person you were looking at was someone you thought was a soulmate, but now stood as someone closer to a stranger than a friend.

"W–what are you doing here? Why are you crying?"

The alcohol messing with your brain was processing his words, but what came out from your lips was the total opposite of an answer. "I'm sorry, Hoonie," 

Sunghoon's eyes widened at the nickname, the privilege that only you had. He kneeled down, taking a seat on the ground opposite you, a visible distance in between.

"I hate this—us—I feel like if we gave it one night, to talk, to just feel—you'd hate me less and make it alright," you choked back the sobs building up in your throat, the dizziness making you unaware of how Sunghoon reached out only to hesitate and pressed his hand back to his side. "Just wish that we could fight now, I'd hold you on the comedown …" your voice faltered, head leaning onto the wall.

"Y/N, you're drunk, we can talk this out another day," Sunghoon striped off his jacket and covered your exposed thighs with it. "Just … don't avoid me. I–I don't hate you, I just hope we can have a decent conversation without thinking about the past,"

He admitted it, how the two of you had secretly been thinking about the past, letting it be a big wall in between instead of growing from it. Yet, you could tell the unspoken anger and sadness still lingered, choosing to pour out gradually and unknowingly.

"Bet you wish you never even met me," you started slurring, hand gripping onto his jacket tightly. "I can't blame you, I broke your every heartbeat," your eyes were shut, images playing in your mind, not knowing the saddened look dawning on Sunghoon's face.

"Let's get you back."

In your sleep that night, you saw him. He was there, so far yet so close, and just like reality, he was hard to reach, harder to understand compared to before. He was a knife cutting deep, leaving a mark that constantly reminded you of the past. 

How could you even make everything go back to the way it was?

Sunghoon was on your front door step the night everyone was out for dinner except you. 

You hadn't expected him to turn up, thinking it'd be you that stood at his doorstep instead as you still had his jacket from that party (which you do not want to think about again).

"Sunghoon. Hey," the door was opened and you leaned against it, trying your best at hiding the hint of pining in your gaze. 

"Oh, hey," he greeted back rather stiffly, dressed in a simple attire with the classic white Lacoste sneakers that he always wore. "I–I wanted to—"

"Take your … jacket?" You cut him off half way, nerves wrecking your brain.

A beat passed, Sunghoom visibly gulped. "Y–Yeah, my jacket,"

"I'll go grab it for you," you jerked your thumb over your shoulder, awkwardly scurrying back in to retrieve his jacket and coming back to see him chewing on his bottom lip, seemingly nervous. "Here. Thanks for it,"

"No problem," Sunghoon coughed, grabbing the jacket but absolutely paying no mind to it. His stare was straight at you.

"That's all, right?"

"Yeah,"

"Yeah," you echoed, hating the sudden rigidness between the two of you. "Bye then, Sunghoon,"

"Bye," Sunghoon said, looking dazed. Weird.

You saw him backing away and decided to close the door, but before you could even do so, a force had stopped you from closing it. Not a force, much rather a hand, his hand. The door was pushed open, and you physically jumped at the suddenness of it. Your eyes met Sunghoon's sorrowful ones.

"Don't push me away, Y/N, not again,"

"Sunghoon," 

He made his way in, closing the door behind him and you let him. Was this seriously happening?

"You said you wanted to give us one night to talk, so I'm here now. I didn't care about the jacket, I cared about you. I hate seeing us like this, it's like we're strangers," Sunghoon let out a frustrated huff, eyebrows furrowed.

"We can't just pretend nothing has happened between us,"

"So you want me to hate you instead? You're saying as if it's easy, Y/N, feelings don't work that way!"

"Then how do we go back to how it was? We can't, that's the truth. You're not the same person I used to know,"

"Cut the bullshit. I'm the same as I was, maybe just a little different than I was years ago, but that doesn't change anything. When does that ever stop you from loving?"

Were you too scared to love?

Sunghoon ran his hand across his face, wetting his lips. "You’re scared of change, and I don’t think that’s something new about you,” 

Ouch.

“But I really wish you could let it all go. I don’t hate you, nor do I harbour any anger regarding the things that happened years ago. It hurts, it did, but seeing you now made me feel the opposite of all those emotions,” Sunghoon took a deep breath in, and you were holding yours. “I think about you a lot, actually. I regretted a lot of the things I said and done, and I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not being there for you and giving you the support you needed. I should've fought for us and not leave, I–I—" Sunghoon choked, unable to hold in his overpowering emotions anymore.

You didn’t say anything, instinctively closing in and pulling him into your arms, letting his head lie on your shoulder, ignoring the feeling of his warm tears soaking the fabric of your shirt. "I'm sorry too, for leaving you so easily,"

You stood there with Sunghoon in your arms, inevitably crying along and sobbing out your own apologies, the ones you had owed him and hidden all these years. He held you tight just as you did, and it felt like the nights he had you in his arms whenever you cried. You eventually calmed down whereas Sunghoon was still composing himself, avoiding your gaze.

You took the opportunity to hug him again, tighter and firmer this time, as if trying to stop him from running away. 

"Can we start over? I don't want us to be strangers," 

You heard a sniffle, then a shaky breath of relief. "I'd love to,"

Pulling away, you locked eyes with him. They were twinkling brighter than the stars in the skies outside, filled with a spark of hope. "I'll make us some hot tea. Do you want to … stay over?"

"Can I?"

"I really want you to."

It didn't take more to convince Sunghoon to stay, all you had to do was ask and he'd listen. 

That night, you and him hid in your room, talking for the whole night until the break of dawn. Nothing about the way he talked had changed, nor his laughter or the crinkles around his eyes when he smiled. He told you about the band and some side gigs, offering to bring you to some too. 

You laid there in bed laughing all night, occasionally peeking over the side of your bed to check up on him who slept on the extra mattress, only to meet his eyes and freeze. 

The red string of fate tying you and him together was beginning to reform.

Not feeling dread every time you saw Sunghoon was a new start for you. In fact, you were glad to see him. 

The misunderstandings and complexity built up over the years were finally addressed, leaving you to peace and a small hope of rebuilding what you had with him. But you kept that thought away for now, holding onto the pieces you had at the moment.

"Come to one of my gigs," Sunghoon made a trip to your house on a random afternoon, a box of your favourite chocolate covered strawberries in his hand. He never forgot anything about you, didn't he?

"Are you bribing me or asking me?" You said despite accepting the box, your heart squeezing at the thought of him remembering the littlest details about you.

"I'm asking you but also offering a gift," he let himself in, almost like always, and you didn't even notice, just letting him do so. "I saw it and I thought of you so I got it,"

"Thanks," you waved the box a little, setting it down on the table and leaning slightly against it. "You still remember," 

His gaze softened. "Of course I do," his hand by his side was itching to reach out, but it never did, instead, he played it off by giving you a smile. "So, what do you say? This Saturday, watch our gig at the pub," 

"Are you singing?"

"I wish I did," he laughed, and you momentarily recalled the times you had karaoke sessions with him. Curse reminiscence. "I play the bass, Heeseung's the front man," 

You nodded slowly, picturing them as a band and smiling slowly. You've missed them, and it was then when you realised it. "I'll go,"

"Really?"

"Obviously, do you want me to say no?"

"Well, no," Sunghoon chuckled, quite literally unable to hide his excitement from the way he's grinning widely. "I'm just … glad, and surprised, and happy,"

You bit back a smile, shaking your head at him. "Text me the details, will you? I don't want to miss it."

Saturday rolled around quickly. You and Yunjin were sitting in a corner of the pub, beers on the table and whispering gossip about some of your high school classmates. High school might've ended years ago but gossip never stopped.

"Alright, folks, the next act is someone you already know, they are not strangers," the manager of the pub stepped onto the small stage, announcing Sunghoon and the guy's band. "Please welcome … April Nights!"

April? 

You bit your tongue, an odd feeling boiling in your stomach. April was the month you broke up with Sunghoon and left for university, it was more than just a coincidence for him and his band to have 'April' in their name. All you knew was the sinking feeling never went away.

"You alright?" Yunjin noticed your silence, casting a worried glance at you.

"April …" you mumbled, eyes staring straight ahead at Sunghoon who was setting up his bass on stage. "There must be something behind it,"

"What?"

"Nothing,"

You shook away that feeling currently eating up and put your focus on Sunghoon instead. It wasn't your first time watching him perform. It has always been him on ice in a big arena, but now it was him on a small stage at a dingy pub.

Sunghoon's eyes wandered all over the room, finally landing on you, a smile spreading on his pretty face. You managed a small smile, waving a little to let him know you're there, you're actually there and not a figment of his imagination, a dream that he has been wishing on for far too long.

The first song they played was an ABBA song. To be specific, it was your favourite ABBA song that you would listen to with Sunghoon in the past. Was it a coincidence?

You knew Heeseung had a vocal of stars, but to hear it for the first time in years was sending you into heaven. However, you failed to keep your focus on him, redirecting it to the bassist. You couldn't stop looking at Sunghoon, and his gaze wouldn't leave yours either. 

The second song soon came by, and at that point onwards, you knew it wasn't a coincidence. It only took two songs for you to realise that Sunghoon had prepared a set list of your favourite songs. The band was currently playing Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, a song you had loved ever since forever.

You shouldn't be feeling light headed, but you were.

The set ended almost a few hours later. It was filled with your favourite songs, undoubtedly. The whole time, you were truly holding your breath, especially when Sunghoon was holding your gaze.

While people were filing in and out of the pub gradually, you stayed. It was well past midnight and Yunjin's cheeks were pink from the alcohol, wandering off to join Heeseung and the others. You, on the other hand, were sober as hell, waiting for Sunghoon with nerve wrecking anticipation.

"Hey, hey, hey. How did we do?" Sunghoon slid into a seat like an apparition appearing out of thin air. You jumped a little, but melted into a smile at the sight of him.

"You guys were great," it was genuine, because they did do amazing, probably more than just amazing. "'April nights', an interesting name,"

Realisation dawned on Sunghoon's face, he swallowed thickly. "I—yeah. April was an interesting month,"

"The set list …"

"Right, the set list," he chuckled, shifting on his feet a little nervously and stiffly. "I figured since you're here I'll play some of your favourite songs,"

"Oh," you let out softly, not knowing what else to say, this was something you found yourself acting around Sunghoon now. "That's … nice,"

Sunghoon gouged your expressions and the tone of your voice, a slow frown etching onto his tired face. "Did you not … like it? I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable,"

"No, it's not that! I'm just—" you paused, thinking of an appropriate word to describe how you felt. Frankly, you didn't know your exact feelings. "—surprised and … confused?"

"Confused?"

"Sunghoon, we're exes, and you pulling this isn't exactly helping—this—" you gestured to the space between you and him. "Us,"

Sunghoon was silent for a moment, occasionally opening his mouth to say something just to close it before he could. "I—maybe I read it all wrong, I thought—you know what, forget it,"

"Don't. Just tell me," you reached over for him, but didn't touch his hand. "What are we? We're not exactly best friends nor are we enemies. I don't want any tension between us and I don't want you to think you have zero chance at all," you breathed, searching for his eyes. "I would want us to work out again, if that's what you want too,"

Sunghoon's eyes glistened with a spark of hope, relief washing over his face. It was an answer to his question. "I want us to work out. I want us to have another chance," his hand reached out for yours the first time since you've seen each other, feeling the warmth of his touch that you were no stranger to. He carefully and gently intertwined his hand with yours.

"We'll always find our way back to each other."

It was odd but comforting to know that nothing has changed when it came to you and Sunghoon.

Sunghoon brought you to your favourite places, ate your favourite dishes, did your favourite activities as an attempt to rekindle everything back. Safe to say it was working.

Just like the first dates you had together, you felt yourself having the same bubbly feeling internally, the same giggles you caught yourself having after a stupid joke he made. Despite all that, over the course of a few weeks, it had you wondering about your relationship with him.

"Will you date him again?" Yunjin could tell you were struggling, even if you didn't say it, it was still quite evident.

"What's with the sudden question?"

"Well, considering he has taken you out on so many dates and still hasn't asked you to be his girlfriend again, I could tell you're troubled,"

"Okay, mind reader," you grumbled and shifted in your seat, hating how right she was. "He said he wanted to give us a chance again, so I was expecting that—you know—we'd get back together soon,"

"Your 'soon' seems a bit urgent, but I don't blame you," Yunjin shrugged, gaze softening at your words. "I can tell how much love there still is between the two of you. It's natural to gravitate towards each other, but time, time is what you need to heal the scars, Y/N. It's been years, give yourself time."

You suppose giving yourself time truly was what you needed. But when you mentally said you needed space, you didn't mean wanting Sunghoon to ignore you. 

That's right. He was ignoring you.

How did you know? Apparently, the hard way.

Calls, messages were all brushed aside. You didn't even see him physically. At one point, you considered him dead, but seeing him at a party proved to you that he wasn't.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

Cornering him was a challenge, but being headstrong and slightly buzzed, nothing could possibly stop you.

"Y/N?"

"Wow, I'm surprised you remember my name," you seethed, almost stumbling forward and throwing a punch at him. "So, we're playing the game where you get back at me and ghost me after all that we've been through lately? Sweet! Could've given me a head's up though,"

"What? You're the one who's planning to abandon me just like before!"

"What are you even saying?" 

"Your email, Y/N. I saw your email. How you have a big job in London and you just can't wait to join, throwing me away like a summer's fling right before you leave,"

"You're not making any sense, I'm not accepting that role!" You were heaving at anger at this point, matching the fumes emitting from Sunghoon's ears. "You dickhead! I'm literally throwing my dreams away and you're here thinking I'm leaving you again? Is that what you thought of first? Oh, maybe you could've just asked me, but you didn't, just like the past,"

Bringing up the past had triggered something not only in you but him. He blinked, keeping silent but chewing anxiously on the inside of his cheek. 

"You never changed, huh?"

You heaved a deep breath, shaking your head a little, not to answer his question, but at him. 

"Well I guess that makes the both of us."

"I fucked it up, didn't I?"

The night after the confrontation, you woke up on Yunjin's couch with a hangover thanks to your habit of drinking your problems away. Remembering Sunghoon's face and the feelings you felt literally had you shrivelling back into the couch, a deep frown etched on your face.

"Partly, yes, but mostly, no," you felt the couch dip beneath Yunjin's weight as she joined your side, a warm cup of coffee in her hand. "He fucked up first, but I think it's all just a big misunderstanding,"

"I don't we've healed from it," you took the cup from her and drank from it. "He's scared of me leaving and I was considering leaving again. Maybe we're just not meant to be,"

Yunjin sighed, moving her body closer to you and placing a comforting hand on yours. "If you're not leaving, that means you're staying, which also means you get to make it right. You get to have time to mend it all unlike the last time,"

"I have to make it right, don't I?"

A nod of confirmation from Yunjin was all you needed to know your next step. So, you decided to show up at his gig in the same exact pub without thinking through it twice.

"He's not here tonight," Heeseung looked thoroughly puzzled by your sudden appearance, and it seemed none of them knew about the small altercation you had with Sunghoon. 

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's been acting a bit … off. We asked him to take a night off, maybe you should give him a call."

If only it was that easy. 

Walking back home with a dejected heart was not the plan you had in mind. A part of you even thought this was truly the end, maybe he reached the conclusion of going no contact and you have no choice but to accept it. Was this karma?

It didn't help that you walked past the park that you and Sunghoon used to run off to back in the past.  The exact bench which you and him sat on still resided there. Your curious mind led your legs towards it, taking a seat and remembering all the memories you shared with him. 

Being alone under the night sky and getting accompanied by the dim light coming from the street lamp had given you a chance to rethink your choices about coming back home, whether it was worth it to see Sunghoon once again and try for the closure you never got. Well, look where it got you now.

The ruffles of the leaves got you snapping your head towards the direction of the noise, but it only landed on a figure.

"Y/N?"

You squinted, waiting until the figure walked under the streetlamp to distinguish that it was … Sunghoon. You should be feeling glad now that he was there in front you, but why were you feeling the exact opposite?

"Sunghoon? W–what are you doing here?" You stood up, watching him getting closer, the anguish in his face was clear.

"I–I … I went to look for you," he started, carefully and slowly inching closer until there's a comfortable distance between you both. "You weren't home and I thought … that was it,"

That was a fatal flaw you and him shared, wasn't it?

"I went to the pub to look for you too," your voice came out in a hushed whisper, breathing becoming ragged. "And you weren't there, so I thought … I thought it was the end too,"

"Fuck's sake, I know I said this many times but I'm sorry, Y/N," he sounded desperate, apologetic and almost exasperated. "I'm sorry for assuming things and ignoring you, I guess I never really got rid of the avoiding thing. I'm just … scared of you leaving me and I can't accept it again,"

"I'm not leaving, Hoonie," you were the first to reach out, to touch him and pull him into your embrace. "I didn't think you'd see that email so I never said anything about it. But I'm not leaving, okay? Not this time, never again. I'm here and I'm staying,"

You heard Sunghoon's quiet breathing next to your ear, his calming heartbeat thrumming against your shoulder. "I'm sorry, I really am, Y/N. I said I wanted to make this right but why does it feel like I'm fucking it all up?"

"You're not, Hoon, trust me. If I have to be honest here, both of us have past scars that aren't healed yet. It takes time, one step at a time, and that was what I learned. I think we're not fully healed from the past," you held onto him tighter, spilling all your hidden truths. "We can make it right, but first, we have to forgive ourselves, forgive each other and move on,"

Sunghoon pulled away a little, but his arms still remained around you. It was the first time you were ever so close to him since the split, wholly vulnerable and showing him your truest emotions. 

"I forgive you," he whispered, pearly tears threatening to spill from the edge of his eyes. "And I'm sorry again,"

"I forgive you too," your grip on his jacket tightened, a small comforting smile appearing on your lips, one that Sunghoon reciprocated. 

"I don't think I'll ever stop loving you," he confessed, a little out of the blue, but it was something he needed to get out of his system before he burst. "Those years when you were away, I see you in everyone else, I don't think anyone could ever compare. I still love you even after this long,"

Your mind was in a haze upon hearing his confession, sincerity and longing hidden in his words but evident in his eyed. For a moment, you thought of what you could say, but nothing came to mind, so you did the first thing your body told you to. You kissed him. Actually, it was more of a peck, a simple quick peck that was enough to shock both him and you.

"I'm sorry!" You saw his wide eyes and wondered if it was a good time to have even done that.

Sunghoon melted into an expression of adoration, a wide smile etched on his lips, as if in both disbelief and relief that you kissed him. "Don't be sorry," he stepped closer, only an inch measured the distance between you and him. The space became smaller when he leaned down, eyes flickering down to your lips. "Can I?"

Was this happening? "Yeah," 

Sunghoon didn't waste any moment in meeting your lips with his. It was natural, easy, for you to kiss him just like first instinct. The amount of desperation, sadness, anger and love were poured into the way he kissed you. There wasn't any urgency, but it spoke louder than intended.

It was short, but it was enough to let the both you know the true feelings you harboured for each other. By the time you pulled away from him, you felt his eyes on you, a giggle erupted from you unexpectedly, and he started joining in.

You really looked like a lovesick fool standing under the streetlamp with your lover. 

"Do you want to stop by that old spot we used to go to?" Sunghoon suggested, a little shyly this time.

"The one nearby?"

"That one,"

"Let's go then." you nodded, casting him a soft smile. 

Sunghoon didn't say much, but his hand did the talking by reaching for yours. He held onto it tightly, intertwining his fingers with yours and swinging your interlocked hands as you walked. He might've not said much, but you could tell how he felt.

Feelings might be complicated, and  making amends with the history behind a broken relationship was equally challenging, but what mattered most was getting back with the one who you called your soulmate, your lover, your best friend.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

☆ permanent taglist (open):

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[architect-2015]

living the fast life - Alexia Putellas

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‘la reina’ and ‘il prescelto’ two women dominating their chosen sport.

Alexia Putellas a two-time ballon d’or winner Carmen Blanc the current formula one world champion.

Two women compared in the media could not be any close together.

(whenever they are speaking english besides in posts is spoke in spanish, it’s easier to write it this way than to translate everything!)

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June 23rd 2024 (day of the Spanish Grand Prix)

@alexiapnews

alexiapnews: Alexia Putellas seen walking to the ferrari motorhome a head of the 2024 Spanish Grand Prix!

Carmen Blanc (ferrari driver) and the Barcelona midfielder have been linked multiple times during the duration of the last two years, no comments have been made in these rumours.

@yn.alexia: OMG THEY HAVE TO BE TOGETHER!

@fanusername1: girl let them live their lives.

@fanusername2: if they are together imagine the f1 x barcelona crossovers we could have!

@ferrarixfootball: 💙❤️🏎️

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January 31st 2021 (Day of El Clásico)

It was winter break for Carmen Blanco, coming off the back of another successful season in Formula One, second in the Drivers Championship and Ferrari coming third in the Constructors Standings.

Unlike the other drivers on the grid, the Spaniard like to return home to her beloved home city of Barcelona instead of travelling to all four corners of the world.

Being born and raised in Barcelona, her love for football was a big factor in her off season. The Estadi Johan Cruyff might as well be her second home during the winter and summer off season.

Due to her status in the sport community, specifically women in sport, Carmen had been invited to meet the teams after the game.

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Following a staff member towards the locker rooms, the young lady began to feel her palms sweat. She would be meeting one of her idols.

Carmen had always admired Alexia, her loyalty to Barcelona mirrored that of Carmen’s towards Ferrari. Both women being part of breaking the barriers for women in male dominated sports.

Once she had reached the door, she reached up and knocked three times on the painted wood. Cheers and shouts of joy were heard from inside the changing room as the door was ripped open.

Standing face to face with ‘la reina’ was something she couldn’t believe she would be doing.

“Hola, you must be Carmen. I’m so happy we finally get to meet!”

@carmen.blanco

liked by alexiaputellas, marialeonn16 and 231,567 others

carmen.blanco: always a joy to be back home, this team has my heart. Forca Barca! ❤️💙

alexiaputellas: thank you for your support, it was amazing to meet you.

carmen.blanco: you too alexia, i was completely star struck!

fanuser1: ALEXIA AND CARMEN CROSSOVER!

carmenxf1: the two best women to do it.

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Over the past three months since being introduced Carmen and the players of Fc Barcelona Femení have all stayed in touch, but specifically the spanish captain and the driver.

Having met on multiple occasions for coffee and dog walks with Alexia’s pomeranian Nala and Carmens Dalmatian Lulu. The two had grown increasingly closer to each other.

Currently laid out on a sun lounger in the backyard of her Barcelona home, Carmen was trying to soak up the last of the Spanish sun before her race season begins. A ding interrupts her peace and she leans over to check her phone.

a delicate blush spreads across her cheeks as she rushes into the house to begin getting ready for the night, nervous for what the future holds for her and Alexia.

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oops i realised that for the amount of social media posts i’ve made this is going to have to be a multiple part series.

This spans from January of 2021 to June if 2024 so we’ve got a lot to cover!

i can’t wait to get to Alexia’s first ballon d’or win and Carmen claiming for first formula 1 world championship. 

I’m a sucker for a secret romance so 🤭

[autistichalsin]

Halsin and abandonment issues

One thing I've come to conclude about Halsin's character, based on many parts of his story and some lines he says, is that he might have abandonment issues.

To begin with: he lost his entire family over the years to accidents and disease, per his writer. That's the kind of thing that leaves deep scars- watching everyone you love fade away over years, until at a "comparatively young age" you're the last of your family and turned over to the Druids to be taken care of. (His writer didn't specify an age, but if he was young enough to be "turned over to the Druids" instead of "finding his way there" then it is likely he was not an adult.) There's no time to lose your family that isn't absolutely horrible, but as a young person is far, far worse.

Then there's Halsin's other traumas, all of which involve isolation; he was a prisoner for three years in the Underdark, and despite this, no one thought to come looking for him to save him. He lost most of his fellow Druids in the battle against Ketheric Thorm and the Shadow Curse that followed- and what few didn't die, he still lost their friendship to his leadership position, the "weight of responsibility". His one lasting friend in all of this, Thaniel, was lost to the curse and Halsin spent over 100 years blaming himself, fighting to be the best leader he could at the Grove, and having no one at all he could lean on for any of his burdens. And then he wound up kidnapped again, this time by the goblins, and when he returns, almost all his Druids have been turned against him, some even holding him in contempt. All experiences that are isolating in nature and reinforce to him that he can't rely on anyone else, that he is the only person he can depend on, and that in the end, everyone he cares for is going to leave or die.

It's not just speculation that he feels that way, either. He has several lines about his survivor guilt and isolation:

"[...] there is a burden to being the survivor... the witness to others' tragedies. It only grows heavier with time."

"[...] Grim as it is now, it was worse on the day of the battle. A vivid wound upon my memory. I was lucky - I lived, when so many did not. It would take me a day and a night to recite the names of all the friends I lost."

And lines that indicate he's used to being left, too.

If the player rejects him after he wildshapes (emphasis mine):

"Ah, I see. Well, of course. Back to camp then."

Saying "of course" implies it's not entirely unexpected.

After the final battle, if the player declines to have a celebration and says the party should split up:

"It was always destined to be so, if we prevailed. But the foreknowledge makes it no less bittersweet..."

He was expecting the party not to stick together.

Similarly, if a love-interest player breaks up with him in the ending:

"I see... After all my years of living, I know all too well that nothing lasts forever. Yet a parting can sting, nonetheless. But that just means what we shared was precious, and will live on in my memory. Thank you - I am a richer man for having met you."

The "nothing lasts forever" really sells it, to me, especially because the context makes it clear that he isn't just making a general statement- he's talking about relationships and people. Again- he was expecting it all to end.

His worry in the epilogue, when a solo-romanced player comes to the party with him, hints at this even more: "You could have done anything, gone with anyone... yet you chose me."

He's surprised that the player, even if they're in love, would want to live with him and share his dream. He can't believe they really wanted that- he even says that he keeps expecting to "stir from the dream".

I feel like that shows a lot about how Halsin feels after all the loss he's endured- he doesn't ultimately believe anyone is going to stay with him, whether because they choose to leave him, or because they'll die.

[etheries1015]

Wishing you a happy birthday!

Featuring: General Lilia

General warnings: Gender Neutral reader

TW: None!

Being an orphan and of an unknown background, Lilia never really cared to know the true date of his birth. He didn't care to celebrate birthdays, simply for the fact that it becomes mundane and repetitive once you've lived long enough. He had a brief understanding that humans worked in an entirely different mindset, they treasured their short lives and often held grand celebrations to signify one year closer to their inevitable demise.

So the moment you had brought up the fact your birthday was that day, and you hadn't told him sooner, he seemingly brushed it off as if he hadn't cared for the notion. Little did you know, he was at an internal war with the values he thought he once had.

"I see." Lilia responded seemingly coldly, "And what age does that make you now?"

"(age)," You responded with a slight smile at his interest and widened eyes, "I know, compared to you i'm a baby, huh? I could be in my eighties and you'd still laugh at my 'lack of life experience.'" The general bit down his bottom lip and nodded, holding back commentary by grabbing his mask and heading towards the door of the cottage that you resided in. You noticed this uncomfortable shift in his demeanor, sighing slightly and retreating your playful banter.

"Off so soon..?" You asked with sadness in your voice, "I was hoping-"

"Don't," Lilia cut you off, "You are lucky I'm allowing you to stay here at all, human. Stay hidden, and remember that I..." He paused, seeing the sadness twinkle in your eyes tugged at his heart in ways he never thought he would feel. He hated the way you did that to him, he hated the feeling of butterflies with sharp wings fluttering in his stomach at those eyes, he hated the deep imbedded foreboding of betrayal for his people simply by sheltering you under his care.

Yet he also couldn't help but continue to test the waters and had found himself rather attached the past few months you resided with him.

"...I will return later," Lilia briskly murmured before closing the door, leaving you sighing helplessly at the kitchen table. It wasn't infrequent for the fae to act like this, you understood he had a major conflict of interest, and you couldn't blame his brash attitude. Yet there were days in which you wondered to yourself, when would he finally break out of that cold façade he placed?

The day quickly turned into night as you spent your day inside tending to your normal everyday hobbies. The clock ticked on and you could see stars begin to rise, with no sign of Lilia. This was not an uncommon occurrence, of course, he had spent days outside of the cottage fighting in a war you knew you should be siding with. None of that had truly mattered, though...you come to terms that Fae had souls just as sensitive and kind to the things around them as much as any human, the only difference was lifespan. With these thoughts in mind, laying in bed and wishing yourself a happy birthday you fell asleep.

Slumber did not last long for it seemed only a few minutes passed before you were awoken by strong hands that gently shook your shoulders. Your tired eyes blinked open to find a familiar figure looming over you, black hair with streaks of red surrounding you, much to your sleepy surprise. Once realizing you were awake, Lilia stood up and tugged your arm gently.

"Human, get up, I have something to show you," The general appearance was what you'd expect of someone fighting for their life, mud-streaked cheeks and disheveled hair, although Lilia always seemed to clean himself up before greeting you. Not this night, apparently. You rushed out of bed due to his urgent request, falling over one foot after the other to put on shoes and finding something quick to be decent in. This process seemed to annoy the man, for he sighed before grabbing one of his own jackets and draping it over your shoulders. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a smile crawling onto your lips

"What's this?" You asked, "Taking me out all of the sudden, giving me your jacket to stay warm...what do you have planned, hmm?" Lilia raised his eyebrows in shock at your brazen response, a flustered shade of pink bursting upon his cheeks before turning his face away and complaining how long you were taking with your "drivel" and rushing out the door knowing you would be quick to follow. Laughing to yourself at how easy he could be to read, you made your way outside of the cottage. Lilia was leading you somewhere deep within the woods, while the greenery was all nice- you found yourself staring at him instead. The way he held onto your hand and led you through the forest with great understanding and no hesitance, how handsome he looked staring forward with such a serious face, and the way his hair flowed behind him with every confident stride left your heart melting at the sight.

"You're distracting," He suddenly said interrupting the silence, "Staring at me like that. Keep your guard up while we are outside," Although sounding cold per usual, your heart was warmed at the notion he cared to warn you out of worry for your well-being, for the forest in the Valley was not the safest place for a human such as yourself. Though, Lilias warm hand in yours reminded you just how far you've come, enough to trust him with your very life. You bit your tongue back from teasing him, for you weren't about to ruin what rare opportunity of affection he seems to be suddenly giving you.

The sound of feet against the leaves of the forest floor came to a halt, walking up the endless hill finally ceasing as he pulled you through the final stretch of trees to reveal a sight more beautiful than you could have imagined. Overhead you see a sea of forestry, with lights of soldier campfires scattered among them. You could see the castle, thinking to yourself if this is how Its beauty from afar enamoures you, you believed that seeing it up close must truly be a sight to behold. Lilia hid his smile, watching you with satisfaction at your reaction for something he has seen a hundred, no, thousands of times before. Yet something about seeing you there, staring out in the distance with such overwhelming love and fascination, he knew it was the first time he'd ever felt such complicated and confusing emotions. When you turned around to thank him, he held out a small box for you to open.

"What...what's this?" You asked, holding out your hands as he gently placed it on top of your palms. He bit his bottom lip, something you noticed he would often do when embarrassed, before turning his head away to look over the view ahead.

"Humans have very short life spans," Lilia started, "As a fae, outliving humans is simply...biology." Lilia took a seat, allowing his legs to dangle above the cliff, "Birthdays are not as important to us as they are to humans. But..." There was no mistaking the bright blush now dusted upon his cheeks, so vibrant you could see its glow even in the dark of the night where the stars and moon lit up you two.

"But I can't help but feel compelled to celebrate the day you were born, funnily enough. Its not much, you may be disappointed."

You unwrapped the messily done box, the bow strapping it together done disorderly yet the intent was still there. Opening the box you revealed a bracelet of acorns- neatly strung together. You couldn't suppress your smile, sitting next to the typically cold man and offering him a side hug, much to his dismay.

Yet he found himself allowing you to engulf him in an embrace, albeit grunting and grumbling with cheeks becoming rosier by the minute.

"I love it," you smiled, "Thank you, Lilia."

The general let out a soft sigh with a smile slowly creeping up to his lips, no longer resisting your hug. Although internally he screamed in protest, every fiber of his being begging to stop himself from falling deeper and deeper enthralled with this human he knew would not live past the time he even turned 250. Yet this moment, under the stars and the glow of the moonlight above, he found himself doing things he never thought he'd be doing, feeling emotions he thought would be lost in the field of battle, and saying things he never dreamed of saying to a human such as yourself.

"Happy birthday, (y/n). May your life be prosperous, and peace soon prevail."

~~

Happy birthday @masquerade-of-misery !! I hope it wasn't ...TOO angsty for your tastes.... Happy 33 years though!! And many more years to come!! 💜💜